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They set our plates down. Steaming food, which normally would have me salivating, now only makes me nauseated. A steak, rare from the blood dripping from it, along with a large green salad, sits on the expensive crockery.
I’m about to thank him when the air changes and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Lifting my gaze, I turn to find a girl standing in the doorway. Her body is boyish in the clothes they’ve dressed her in, showing off her tits which are a handful, if that, along with slim hips and bare feet.
But when I lift my gaze to her face, that’s when my heart stops. Her big, hazel eyes are glaring at me. Her full, darkened, pink lips are plump, causing my dick to stir in response. They’re perfection, and I know they’ll look incredible sliding up and down my shaft. The memory of the night she took me in her mouth — well, the night I fed her my dick — runs wildly in my mind. I stifle a groan at the image and take her in.
Her dark red hair is long, hanging on her bony shoulders in waves of silk. Tattoos now mark her arms, neck, and I wonder where else she’s inked that I can’t see. She’s beautiful but broken. I know it’s because he’s been fucking her. Rage heats my blood, trickling through my veins at an alarming rate.
It’s been a long time since I laid eyes on her, and now that she’s standing before me, I don’t know how to form words. Normally with girls I take home, it’s an easy, emotionless fuck. Afterward, I leave them without needing to even know their name, but for some reason, the girl looking at me like I’m a monster has hooked me.
“Ah, there she is,” Thanos chuckles, crooking his finger to call her over.
She pads toward us, and I can’t help staring. Underneath her brokenness, she’s exquisite. When she reaches the table, I watch in awe as she stands, waiting for his order. He grips her hair, tugging it in his fist and shoves her to her knees. They hit the cold wooden floor with a thud so loud, but all she does is whimper.
Her strength steals my attention, holding it hostage. She’s always been strong. Even at eighteen, she was one of the feistiest girls in our dungeon. Now at twenty-two, she’s just as resilient.
It’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong, but all I want right now is to take her and claim her. To make her mine. To fuck her into oblivion until all she knows is me.
It’s ridiculous.
Shaking my head, I bring my wine back to my mouth. She watches my every move as I gulp the liquid down. I tip my head to the side, wanting to question her, but that’s when Thanos makes his fatal move. The glint of the knife in his hand alerts me he’s about to hurt her, and against my better judgement, I jump to my feet.
“I think it’s time for me to inspect her. Then we’ll need to be on our way,” I say before he has a moment to get near her with the weapon.
His gaze flicks to me. Forgetting about his earlier plan, he sets the knife down on the white tablecloth that will soon be stained with his blood. I can feel her confused gaze burning into me at that moment. I just saved her, but I’m here to buy her. I wonder if she recognizes me. If she does, she hasn’t made it known.
“You’re not staying for dinner?” he questions. There’s curiosity in both his and her stares, but I school my features to keep this game going.
“Well, the quicker I start with this job, the faster you’ll have your money,” I tell him, knowing that the only thing he wants from me is the cash.
He flits his gaze over to her. Reaching for her hand, he tugs her toward the table. My body is alert, ready to attack the fucker, but I can’t do anything until River has taken out every one of the guards outside.
“Yes, you’re right. No sense in wasting time. I trust you’ll enjoy this one, Savage.” Once again, he utters my last name like we’re friends. We are so far from ever being anything close to that, but I nod in agreement.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CAIA
He stares at me.
A familiar stranger.
His eyes hold secrets when he looks at me. Hidden in the depths of the ocean of his gaze. I feel like drowning in the waves that crest in his irises. Anger and hatred emanate from him like a cologne. It’s been years since a man looked at me that way. Like he does. There’s no malice there, and I wonder how I know him. His hair is dark, which is a stark contrast to his ice-blue eyes. He tips his head to the side, the corner of his mouth lifting, and that’s when I see it.
