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“Let me go, Landon. I don’t like this,” I say, glaring at him. “And neither will Arran.”
He laughs. “Arran has never given a fuck about girls. He’s definitely not going to care about a whore.”
My palm slams against his cheek. “I’m not a whore.”
His fingers are around my neck in a split second, squeezing the diamond collar into my skin. “You’re his whore, and when I buy you from him, you’ll bemywhore. Or maybe when he’s tired of your cunt, he’ll just hand you over for free.”
I grab his wrist and try to pry him away. “Let me go!”
Next thing I know, he’s flying off me, and for a moment, I think it was me who sent him soaring through the air. That is, until I see Arran standing over him, his face contorted with fury.
“What the fuck was that for?” Landon demands, wiping blood off his bottom lip. “Fucking asshole.”
“Skye, go to the bedroom and shut the door,” he orders.
My heart jumps into my throat as I glance between the two brothers. One wearing a mask of primal rage. The other staring up at him in confusion.
Arran said he’d carve out the eyes of any man who saw me naked. But what would he do to one who touched me?
“What? Why? What are you going to do?”
“Go up. Now.”
Oh my God, he’s going to die. Arran is going to kill his own brother if I don’t do something.
“Arran, please don’t hurt him,” I plead for the jerk. “Look at him. He’s so scared. Just tell him to leave.”
Arran swivels his head slowly toward me. “If you don’t want him to die, do as I say.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” I hear Landon ask as I scuttle away.
“My problem is, you touched what belongs to me.”
10
ARRAN
He made his bed. Let him lie in it. Don’t pay for his sins.
G. Black.
Although I tossed the note that arrived at my house this morning, I can still see it in my mind. The neat handwriting on vellum. Fancy prick.
But it’s not the note itself that bothers me. It’s that it was hand delivered to my front door. That I was in the house, getting ready for work, while he was right downstairs.
“He pulled up in a black Bentley. Said he was your friend and you were expecting this,” Charles said when he gave it to me. “I asked if he wanted to wait for you to come downstairs, but he said he’d catch up with you later.”
It’s nothing but a scare tactic. He can’t move into my home the way he took up residence in Noah Esposito’s building. But he wants me to know that he can get to me whenever he wants.
“Arran?”
I sit up and smile. “It’s me, Father.”
Looking confused, he frowns. “I thought you left hours ago.”
“Well, I’ve only been here for a few minutes.”
His brows lift and he looks at the digital clock on the nightstand. “It’s so hard to tell what time it is with no windows.”
