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Whatever it takes.
My family will be safe from my mistake if this goes the way I want it to. It has to count for something.
I’m finally ready to get out of the car and a quick knock of my knuckles against the glass has the man opening the door for me. I shoot him a sunny smile, the warmest I can manage before unfolding myself to my full height. I’m taller than my sisters by a good bit, and I’ve accentuated my frame with a pair of heels. I feel comfortable enough walking in them that I know I’ll be able to run if I have to.
I went for a sleek pair of pants tailored to my long legs and a shirt the color of spring violets. Just enough cleavage shows to be a distraction, but the cut of the shirt is demure compared to what I wore last night.
Last night had been the perfect dress for sex.
My man is forced to wait outside the door with my driver as several others, dressed in funereal black, lead me into the house. Their expressions match and give nothing away.
I’m expected, yes, but only because I texted ahead of time to let him know I was on my way and earlier than he thought I’d be. I’m delivering the information before Drago wants it, which will hopefully work in my favor. It will show him I’m eager to please and make him think twice about his earlier conceptions.
A facade built on sex, the same kind Mia has always operated under. If men think they are dealing with a pretty face, if the expression is vacuous enough to suggest there is nothing going on between the ears, then they let down their walls. They slip. They say things they wouldn't ordinarily say because they might as well be alone.
Today, I’m adopting her strategy.
“Wait here.” One of the men holds out a hand and bids for me to stop. “I’ll announce you.”
The same servant from last night, her mousy ears standing at attention, slips into the hall with an arm full of laundry before she sees us gathered. A squeak is the only sound she makes when she sees me and she makes sure to duck her head, scurrying in the opposite direction.
Well, shit. It doesn’t bode well for me.
“I’m going to guess you don’t have a lot of female visitors on the premises,” I joke out loud. Casting the first guard a sultry grin. “What’s the matter? Is this boys’ club invitation only, or does your personality shoo women away naturally?”
They’re not amused by me, of course. I don’t expect them to be, but the little jab is a personal delight while the first man heads off down one of the unexplored hallways to tell Drago his guest has arrived.
Ricardo is going to kill me for this. The thought is sobering.
Once he finds out I went rogue, he is going to absolutely blow a gasket, and I know if the roles were reversed I probably wouldn’t blame him for being angry.
He won’t understand why I had to do this.
I lock my knees once more to stop from fidgeting foot to foot, adjusting my weight. It takes less time than ordering a cup of coffee for the man to return and beckon us forward. I swallow over a dry lump forming where my uvula used to be.
The hallways are decorated as richly as the rest of the house, as though King Midas had been tapped as a consultant. The door to Drago’s office is flown open and made of glass rather than the solid wood I’m used to seeing at home, as though the thick slab of oak will somehow keep every word spoken within those four walls from escaping.
Drago seems to welcome intrusions. The back wall is nothing but glass as well, and there are lines of plants along several metal shelves. An unexpected touch of life and care in this somber, gilded space.
I almost figured he’d have the kind of thumb that turns the world black when he touches it.
“Well, well, Isabella,” he says in greeting, rising from beyond his desk. “This is an unexpected pleasure and a delight. I didn’t think to see you again so soon. You simply couldn’t stay away.”
He points to the corner of his desk, and rather than greeting him with a handshake or a kiss to the cheek, I’m forced to perch there, a parrot with a cracker in its beak. Except this cracker is information and something he wants desperately. He glances me over from top to bottom, and his expression sharpens.
“Where is your bulldog today? Decided he wasn’t a good fuck after all, and so you left him at home?” Drago asks with a single bushy eyebrow arched.
“He had other responsibilities.” I force myself to sound bland and detached. “I’m perfectly capable on my own.”
“I feel as though you’ve insisted on this several times. Perhaps this is your way of making it a reality. I assume you wouldn’t be here unless you brought me what I’ve asked for? Where might you be hiding it, I wonder.”
“No place I’d allow you to see.”
His mouth slips up in a sly smile as he takes another step around the desk, close enough to have his knee touch mine. “Oh, I’ve seen quite enough of you. Your firm tits, your shapely legs, your dripping pussy. It’s a little past time to be modest, don’t you think?”
Those words, spoken so casually, have my mouth dropping open and shock coursing through my system like poison. It’s work to not back away from him but the thought of seeing his smile grow keeps me silent. I manage to get myself together just long enough to slide my hands beneath my legs. A safer option than slapping him and watching a red handprint blossom over his cheek.
“Don’t even think about it,” Drago interrupts, narrowing his eyes on me with such intense scrutiny I pause. “Whatever it is you want to do to me. You know that if you make one move against me, if you do not do exactly as I ask, when I ask it of you, not only your life will be forfeit, but your sisters as well. Your parents. Even your pretty boy. Just like you know I’m not joking. I will hit you where it hurts you the most.”
