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“You’re worried she’ll try and use it against us.”
Nodding, I thought about the entire scenario. I’d learned many things in my life, even if patience wasn’t one of them. There were usually two sides to most stories, not all, but in this case, I’d need to proceed with caution. Did I care what happened to her? No, but she could be an easy mark if Theodore had sold his soul to another devil. “Perhaps.”
Jonas grimaced as he did when he wanted to say something.
“Say it, Jonas.”
“Is this about the woman? She’s beautiful, and your type, but I don’t think you should be away from the organization right now. Let me track her down. I’ll bring her to you.”
“What’s wrong, Jonas? Are you afraid of losing your job?”
He huffed. “Maybe.”
“You forget I know how the Armenians act. They issued a threat. They think we’ll retaliate. That would give them a door opening to starting the war on their terms. That’s not going to happen.”
Not unless absolutely necessary.
“You protect my sister. I’ll track down the lovely Whitney Canfield.”
“Okay, boss.”
The beautiful woman didn’t know it yet, but she’d fallen into the dark lair of a predator with long, sharp teeth.
Betrayal couldn’t be taken lightly.
I’d hunt her.
Capture her.
Use her.
Fuck her.
And after that? I held up my drink, the ice cubes clinking the glass as I swirled the liquid.
If she was very, very good, then I’d keep her as my beautiful little pet.
But only after doling out required punishment.
CHAPTER3
Whitney
Death was a horrible mistress.
The blackness of a soul leaving this earth took a toll on everyone involved, especially the family members left to pick up the pieces.
Sadly, I felt nothing but a huge hole that had been with me since I could remember. My father had just died. I’d attended his funeral. There’d been two people other than me standing at his gravesite, but I’d noticed men in dark suits standing on the knoll above the six-foot opening in the ground, vultures coming to collect what was owed to them. I had no doubt my father had squandered every cent he’d owned, the small house where he lived a reflection of his true love in life
Booze.
Liquor bottles littered every room, several trashcans filled. His other vice had been gambling, something I’d learned early in my life. The number of bills unopened on his kitchen table reflected his sordid life. The house had been left to me, but I wanted nothing to do with his belongings. I’d hired a real estate agent on short notice, his instructions to dump the house at any price. After securing a private contractor to have his belongings taken to the dump, I’d done something else on a whim, making a decision I was already regretting. I’d purchased tickets for a luxury train ride across the country, several stops in between. It would take me the better part of a week to reach Orlando.
So far, I’d spent hours in my room catching up on emails and other items of business, barely noticing the gorgeous scenery while leaving Napa. At least I’d finally ventured out to the diner car, determined to read a novel, enjoy some delicious red wine, and pretend I was on a fabulous vacation.
All alone.
As I tried to concentrate on the heavy sex scene between the uber alpha male and some flighty female, my thoughts drifted away from the fabulous feasting scene. Who wouldn’t be aroused by a man taking thirty minutes feasting on the heroine’s pussy while she writhed in his firm hold?
