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Hands in my hair hold me down and pull my neck back. I strain and look up. Draven holds the knife to my neck.
“Shhhh, little boss, you don’t want my hand to slip now, do you?” he whispers. His voice is oily.
I don’t know how I never noticed that while he was working for me. Everything about Draven is oily. I swallow and feel the blade bite my tender skin.
“Draven, watch out. If Ms. Eve here listens closely, she gets to leave unharmed. We don’t want to damage her yet now, do we?” Ash—I recognize his harsh voice and the way he seems to spit my name, even though he doesn’t come into view.
I think back to Caroline saying she didn’t hire these guys. God, I really want to believe her right now, because if this is what I think it might be, I am going to need an ally.
“Evelynn, what my two companions are trying to communicate.” Lars stands over me. He is the tallest of my three former employees and the one I always trusted least. Something about him is too quick, too smooth. “You know something about us. Something of a sensitive nature that we would rather word not get around about.”
Lars runs a hand down my cheek, then my throat. His fingers are colder than the knife blade.
“You mean the murder,” I manage to say.
“Lars, she might have more backbone than we thought. What do you say we just keep her instead of scare her?” Draven laughs, holding the knife steady against my throat.
“That would draw attention, Draven. We don’t want the kind of attention our former boss seems to be enjoying with our replacements,” answers Lars. “Now, Evelynn, that was a situation that got a little out of control. I know you are all about control, but sometimes things get messy. If your analysis of the situation were to come to the attention of, say, the police…well, I can’t guarantee that your family wouldn’t find themselves in a similar situation. Or maybe all of Scarlet?”
I inhale sharply.
“You don’t have any proof, Eve,” Ash says, now sitting next to me. I can see him out of the corner of my eye.
He sits right up against me, wraps his arm around me, and squeezes me in place. I can feel the shape of a gun in his jacket pocket pressed against my side.
Draven runs the knife down my throat and slices down the lace front, just to the tops of my breasts.
“Keep that pretty virginal mouth of yours shut, or you won’t like what happens next,” whispers Ash.
I shiver, terrified of what might come next.
Chapter 11
Gideon
Evelynn. That is one beautiful woman.
I’m finished with clients for the evening. Now I can move on to the gala.
I have been looking forward to it all day, but I’m not quite ready. Jake is; he just doesn’t take the same care with getting ready than I do. He looks great, but I don’t go for the five-o’clock shadow thing, especially when we are going to be escorting Evelynn.
I saw her when she left with Robin and Gustav earlier—a delicate rose blooming in innocence. She took my breath away.
“Dude, your eyebrows are perfect. Let’s go already.” Jake grabs my arm and waggles his eyebrows at me.
I always tease Jake that he is my sloppy alter ego. Being identical, we are always striking. But dressed up, the differences in presentation are definite.
“I’m coming. Aren’t you going to comb your hair?” I ask, grabbing his midnight-blue jacket and tossing it to him.
“I did. This is the look I’m going for—rugged bad boy.” He slips the jacket on and heads out the door. “To contrast with your Ken doll look.”
“Fuck you,” I answer back. “Just for that I’m driving. Don’t want to be late.”
Jake laughs and tosses me the keys. We dash across town to the swanky country club venue. Jake is white, knuckling the “oh shit” handle the whole way.
What can I say, I like to drive fast. And with the added bonus of getting to see Evelynn in that gown again, I can’t wait to get there.
We walk into the ballroom, and you could hear a fucking pin drop.
“More twins?” I hear off to the side. Oh, good. People have noticed. I was hoping it wouldn’t take long.
I’m sure Evelynn and her rotating escorts have been the talk of the evening. I hope she is handling it well. I know Evelynn likes to be watched, but I don’t know how well that translates to social functions like this.
Jake and I cut a path to the table assigned to Evelynn and her dates tonight. The silence stretches in front of us and breaks in a wave of whispers in our wake.
I know we look great—Jake in his midnight jacket and me in wine. We may have the same chiseled good looks, but we don’t go in for that matchy-matchy thing some twins get off on.
