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To those “men” who wear the golden lion signet ring, being rich, powerful, and untouchable isn’t enough. They need dominion over others—namely young women and girls.
That’s who killed my sister. That’s who I hunt, and whose rings I keep as trophies in the box in my office. The crown jewel in that collection is the one with blue and red eyes, that belonged to the man who murdered my sister: a waste of skin named Alan Codrey, heir to the Codrey family oil fortune.
It will be my eternal regret that after I tracked Alan down, in his attempt to escape me, he shattered his jaw falling off a fireescape. He lived—at least for another three days of what I hope was trulyagonizingpain and misery while I tortured him. But he wasn’t able to tell me anything more about the Apex Club.
I’ve killed five of them so far. Later this week, I’m going to see if there’s a sixth on the horizon.
Tempest arches a brow as she turns to lean against the white marble bathroom vanity. Her arms fold over her chest.
“Excuse me?”
“I need you to dress up.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“It’s not a request.”
Our eyes lock, and I relish the pink flush that heats her face. We may not have even touched each other since the other day, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get all flustered around me now. Especially when she’s cornered like this.
“I’m your wife, right?” she mutters.
“It would appear so.”
“Not your servant? Or your slave?”
I smile thinly. “I think that could be up for interpretation.”
“Think again, asshole.”
“Hmm. I’ll get right on that. In the meantime,” I level a stern glare at her. “Dress up.”
Tempest follows me out of the bathroom and into her walk-in closet, where I start rifling through her clothes.
“I’m sorry, can Ihelp youwith something?” she snaps. “What exactly am I dressing up for, anyway?”
“Ah, I knew you’d come around.”
She glares at me. “I meant whatwould I, potentially, be dressing up for?”
“Dinner, with guests.”
“What sort of guests?”
I exhale heavily, turning back to her. “How about you just do as you’re told for once?”
Her face heats.
“Tempest, I just need you to put something nice on. Something sexy.”
Okay, I lied. She’skind ofthe bait.
“Wow,” she says flatly. “What are you, my pimp? Who are these guests?”
“Nuns, schoolteachers, the PTA board.” I smirk at her. “Who do you think?”
“Mafiosos? Investors in your little club?”
“Potentialinvestors.”
