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During the elevator ride, Olivia remains silent, but I don’t release my tight grip on her bicep. As the doors open, I step out, pulling her along with me.
The putrid stench of death permeates the air, and I sense her slight stiffening. “Where are you taking me?” she asks, her voice laced with anxiety.
“To your temporary room,” I reply with a mixture of authority and veiled promise. “Once you decide to be more compliant, your accommodationsmightimprove. It’s up to you.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” she snaps and I tsk, shaking my head.
“I suppose you’ll just have to find out.” I open the steel door to the first cell, one I know doesn’t get used as often as the others and should be…relatively clean. “There’s a blanket somewhere in there and a bucket. Use them however you see fit.”
I shove her inside, slamming the door closed and plunging her into darkness. A wicked grin spreads across my face as I relish in the sound of her hurling curses and insults in my direction.
“You son of a bitch! You can’t fucking do this!” she screeches, her cries echoing through the hallway as I step away, heading back toward the stairs.
At the last second, I briefly turn back and lift the opening where food can be slid through if we choose to. “I already have,” I respond, then drop the flap and walk toward the stairs that lead back to the main levels of the house, deliberately making my steps heavier to ensure Olivia hears my departure.
Her shouts and empty threats trail after me until the elevator doors close, cutting off the sounds, and I head upstairs. Once I’m on the first floor, I proceed toward my office, confident that Jaxon is waiting for me.
He might follow my orders, but that doesn’t always mean he does so without question. It frequently frustrates me, but I’m not too proud or stubborn to understand his value. Most importantly, and likely because he’s my oldest friend, Jaxon typically only questions me in private, helping to ensure that he’ll avoid a bullet in the back of his skull.
Sure enough, when I enter my office with its industrial style décor—red brick walls, remnants from the original construction—I find Jaxon standing in front of the metal and wood shelves lining the right wall. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his black slacks, and there is blood splatter on the sleeve of his white dress shirt.
“Where is she?” he asks, turning around to face me.
I make my way to the desk, crafted from the same wood and metal as the shelves. “In the first cell downstairs.”
As I move the mouse, my computer awakens. I want to check if Olivia is still raging or if she’s finally succumbed to the reality of her situation.
Jaxon takes a seat in one of the black leather chairs in front of my desk and raises an eyebrow at me. “I thought you might tie her to your bed, judging by the way you were looking at her all evening.”
“The thought crossed my mind,” I admit with a smirk, “but then I would have to gag her, and I’d much rather have her mouth occupied with other things.” A few clicks, and a night vision image of Olivia appears on the screen. She’s still standing by the cell door, arms crossed, but surprisingly not screaming her lungs out.
“Luca,” Jaxon warns, his tone tinged with concern. “I can handle her if you don’t want to.”
My gaze hardens, and I meet his eyes swiftly. “No.”
“But there’s no way this can end well.”
I know he’s trying to make me see reason, but there isn’t a part of me that gives a single fuck.
“I don’t care,” I retort firmly. “Nobody touches her but me.”
Jaxon’s gaze drops to my desk, his reluctant submission evident. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
I won’t, but there’s no need to tell him that. I’m done with this conversation. My attention returns to the live feed of Olivia where I can see a night vision version of her on the screen. Her raven hair shields most of her face from view, but it doesn’t block the rapid rise and fall of chest, indicating her lingering fury.
Perhaps she’s saving her energy for when I later return. The thought gives me one too many images that I don’t need in my mind.
“What do you want me to do about Titan?” Jaxon asks, standing at the door longer than I expect.
I turn off the screen, no longer desiring the distraction that Olivia represents. My hands rest on my lap as I lean back in my chair. “Let’s keep an eye on their crew for the next week while we wait to see who gets blamed for the senator’s death. I don’t want to act rashly.”
“Such as bringing the eyewitness home?” he mutters under his breath.
My fist slams down on the desk, causing everything atop it to tremble. “No more, Jaxon. I’m well aware you disagree with my decision tonight, but it’s done, and what I choose to do with the woman is not up for debate. Is that clear?”
He knocks lightly on the doorframe. “Crystal. I’ll be around if you need me.”
I watch him leave, and once the door is closed behind him, I release a heavy breath, running both hands over my face in an unsuccessful attempt to quell the frustration building within me.
