The girl needed to level with me about what was going on. I wiped it on my jeans, quickly heading to the door of the condo. It took me almost ten seconds to find the keys. At least my hand was steady as I shoved a key into the lock, yet I took a few seconds to open the door, listening for any sounds of activity.

  Silence greeted me, but it eerie. Charlotte was a music lover, her stereo blasting when she was home. I walked inside, scanning the perimeter before closing and locking the door. I wanted to call out to her, but my gut told me it wasn’t a good idea. I placed my bag on the foyer table, slowly moving through the living room toward the bedroom hallway.

  Her door was closed, no sounds coming from the other side. It was entirely possible she was sleeping. Thankfully, no sound was made when I opened it, peering inside. She was on her bed fully dressed, her face pressed into her pillow.

  “Charlotte?” My whisper seemed hoarse, my nerves the reason.

  She didn’t say a single word or move and I was about to leave when the covers were rustled.

  “Go away. Okay? Just go away.”

  Her voice seemed distant, devoid of any emotions, but I sensed she was in pain.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Just go.”

  I walked closer. “That’s going to happen. You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now. I won’t leave until you do.”

  She didn’t react right away nor was there any sound. Then I heard a sob, the sound so full of agony that I eased onto the edge of her bed. When I pressed my hand on her shoulder, she flinched.

  “Don’t,” she moaned.

  “What did they do to you?”

  She sniffed, shaking her head slightly, refusing to allow me to see her face.

  “Charlotte. Not only am I family but I’m your friend. You need to tell me what’s going on. Please?”

  The hesitation killed me. We’d trusted each other through boys and troubles in school, always able to count on each other.

  Charlotte moved, then slowly turned her head. I couldn’t see any damage or bruises, but I could only see half her face.

  “I found blood in the elevator. Is it yours?”

  “I don’t know. Other stuff happened.”

  Stuff. Even the short answer wasn’t like her. Fed up, I threw back the covers, gently rolling her over. Her lip was swollen, caked blood on her cheek. “Fucking Jesus Christ. Who did this to you?”

  “It’s complicated, but Diego took care of it. Or he will because he cares about me.”

  “Diego. As in Santiago the cartel leader?”

  She nodded and my anger rushed to the surface.

  “What in the hell are you doing around that man? He’s a monster, a murderer. I’ve read articles on him. You’re smarter than that.”

  “He’s good to me. Mostly.”

  Mostly, my ass. I knew what I was talking about. “Is he your boyfriend?” I couldn’t fathom how she’d gotten herself mixed up with a crime lord.

  “I wouldn’t call him my boyfriend exactly.”

  “Then what would you call him? Your pimp? Is he paying for this condo?”

  “How dare you!” she snapped. “You don’t seem to mind living in the lap of luxury.”

  “Let me guess. I’ll be required to do favors like you’re doing for this… pig?” The anger in her eyes quickly turned to sadness.

  “No. Of course not. I would never do that to you. You’re family.”

  But she had no issue sliding under the thumb of a man who could toss her aside at a moment’s notice. The rage remained furrowing deep inside of me.

  “Men like him don’t care about anyone but themselves. I should know.”

  Charlotte chewed on her lower lip, which she did when she was nervous or afraid. She was both.

  “What do you do for him?” When I asked the question, her entire expression changed, the mask she usually wore appearing. Even with her determination to hide her life from me, there was no disguising the amount of trouble she was in.

  “Sometimes I work in his casino. Sometimes I work private parties. It all depends.”

  “Uh-huh. Are you running drugs?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  “Then tell me what else. Now!” She jumped then recoiled, immediately placing her hands over her face. Why had she put up with this shit?

  I did what I could to tamp down the increasing anger. “Honey. Look. I care about you. You need to tell me what you’re mixed up in. Maybe we can go to the police.”

  “No police!” She snapped her head up, her eyes wilder than before. “I care about you, which is why it’s better you don’t know anything. But no, I’m not running drugs.”

  “Why is it easy for me not to believe you?” I knew the edge in my voice would keep her clammed up, but I was far too furious to tiptoe around what she’d gotten herself into.

  When she raked her hand through her hair, I noticed it was shaking.

  “You will stay away from him. Do you hear me? If you don’t, I’m going to have a discussion with him. He can’t beat up women.”

  “You can’t.” She jerked up and I was able to see her torn clothes. When she noticed my horrified reaction, she grabbed a handful of the sheet, pulling it around her. “Promise me you won’t say anything to him. Ever. He didn’t do this. One of his men did. Diego is going to take care of it. He’s good to me.”

  “So you’ve said, which is why you have other bruises.”

  “I told you I was a bad girl.”

  “Jesus Christ. I can’t believe you’ve sunk this low.”

  “What about you?” she threw out. “You’re fucking a rich guy who’s more powerful than Diego.”

  Why I wasn’t shocked she’d thrown that in my face I wasn’t certain. I gave her a nastier look than maybe she deserved. “As long as you promise to get away from whatever situation you’re in then I won’t approach the asshole.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I will. You know it too.”

  Charlotte looked forlorn, her bruised mouth twisting. Then she nodded. I gathered her into my arms, holding her tightly.

  “It’s going to be alright.” Somehow, it had to be.

  “Just promise me, cuz, that you’ll stay away from them,” she said. “Diego will kill you if you interfere. Then he’ll kill me.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Jameson

  “Motherfucker,” Grant hissed as he stared into the camera, the Zoom call lasting longer than I’d wanted. “I knew Dumas was hiding something.”

  “Bullshit,” Lachlan piped in. “You were behind him one hundred percent. Don’t give me that crap.” The brusque Scot was more agitated than normal.

  I’d spent time going through every document Dumas had signed as well as the background documentation we’d required. He hadn’t purposely hidden anything from us that I’d noted. “Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. I need to have a conversation with him.”

  “Once a liar, always a liar.” Grant’s attitude made me smirk. He’d used a few unscrupulous methods of skirting around a few county officials in LA. I doubted he wanted a reminder.

  Whatever was going on, it was clear that Philip Dumas was a piece of work.

  I was being kind.

  He’d recently been arrested for possible extortion, including bribing several members of the government of the French Republic. From what Lachlan had sent via email, officials were doing everything in their power to shut down the project. Whether or not the accusations were true mattered only on the surface at this point. Carnal Sins had millions of dollars tied up in investments, loans to Dumas for construction. While his family had money, their wealth noted in the billions, he was considered the black sheep of the family.

  That meant he’d obtained funds for the larger percentage of the project on his own. If I had to guess, I’d say using unscrupulous methods that he’d hidden well. Well enough neither Grant nor I had determined that it was in our best interest to refuse signing our names on the contract.

  Lachlan had been more concerned but had deferred to the two of us and our judgments. I’d met with the Frenchman on several occasions, grilling him as I studied his financials. While I wasn’t stupid enough to believe they couldn’t have been doctored, my gut told me the guy was in the middle of a French war whose foes had used unfounded information to try to strong-arm him.

  Something definitely smelled foul.

  Not that I gave a shit about his well-being at this point, but I refused to lose the funds we’d provided. It looked like I would be heading to Paris for an undisclosed period of time.

  I sat back in my seat behind my desk, closing my eyes and rubbing the scruff on my face. I’d ignored shaving, especially after Alexandra’s comment about how much she enjoyed being stimulated by my beard. That had come after I’d taken her a second time, that time in the shower with her wrists secured to the showerhead. The thought of water trickling down the length of her body was enough to shove me into full arousal.

  “Are you with us, lover boy?” Lachlan threw in.

  I lifted my middle finger without hesitation, both men laughing.

  “Is there something I should know?” While Grant’s question was rhetorical, I wasn’t in the mood to compare dick size or anything else at this point.

  “Not a fucking thing.” The statement was a bit terse, but the last thing I wanted to do was to leave Alexandra alone. Part of it was for selfish reasons, but I’d delved a little deeper into Santiago’s business tactics, including his foray into human trafficking. However, the man was extremely good at keeping his name out of the press as well as greasing the palms of a number of officials.

  Including Judge Garber. I’d discovered by accident a glossy photo of the two men shaking hands at a fundraiser of all things.

  “I’ll find out what’s going on,” I told them. “But as of now, the project is too far along to abandon. You both know it. Up until this incident, everything was on track to open in three months. We owe it to him to provide our assistance.” My dominating behavior was on full display this morning, likely given my determination to protect Alexandra.

  Maybe I’d insist she come with me to Paris. Hmmm… The idea had merit.

  “Listen to the construction god,” Grant snarked.

  “What’s up your ass?” I retorted.

  “You’re one to talk. Did you get a bad batch of Wheaties this morning?” Grant had turned into quite the joker after all these years. When I glared at him, he acted offended, adjusting his suit jacket. “Fine. No sense of humor. Bad clients who think they can use the club as their personal conference room.”

  I knew what that entailed. The note on my desk indicated Judge Garber had requested a meeting. Like hell that was going to happen.

  “Let’s not get off track. Just see what you can do to eradicate the situation, Jameson,” Lachlan suggested. “We don’t need any bad press while trying to get the Milan project off the ground. The authorities are dicey enough, the Cosa Nostra sniffing around.”

  “How the hell would they know about the project unless the man interested in entering into business with us ignored his confidentiality agreement?” I barked.

  Grant was pressing my last nerve, driving up his arms as if surrendering to my piss-poor mood.

  Lachlan sighed. “That’s a good question that will be answered, but the situation with Dumas needs to be rectified.”

  “Agreed. I’ll give you a status update when I’m in Paris.”

  “I admit I’m curious. Are you going alone?” he threw in.

  There was no reason for me to bristle as the three of us had tormented each other through the years regarding the choices in women we’d made. “Not you too.”

  “Call it a hunch. Maybe that’s a way to defuse the situation. Take her with you.”

  The way Lachlan was leaning into the camera, his eyes pointed on mine meant he wasn’t telling me everything about the problems I could face. “Maybe. I’ll need to see. Now, if there’s nothing else. I have a business to run.” I was already out of my seat, ready to stop the meeting before either one realized I’d moved.

  Grant hitched both eyebrows, his previous look of amusement shifting into annoyance. “Sure, buddy.” He ended the call abruptly and Lachlan turned his full attention in my direction.

  “Is there something else going on?”

  I wanted to walk away without mentioning Pamela’s death, but a part of me needed to mention it to someone. “Pamela was killed in a boating accident.”

  “What?” He looked at me quizzically. “You two were talking?”

  “Oh, hell, no. I got a call from her brother.”

  “Well, how nice of him since he was the one who threatened your life years ago.”

  I’d all but forgotten about the ugly incident. It had been the single time I’d almost used my brawn to end a man’s life. It had put a final wedge between me and Pamela. “He just wanted me to know.”

  Exhaling, he rubbed his jaw then offered the fatherly look that he’d grown accustomed to giving. “I won’t ask about this girl because I have a feeling at this point you’ll tell me it’s none of my business. But I’m going to give you my opinion whether you freaking want to hear it or not. Move on. I know you cared about Pamela, but your relationship was toxic.”

  Anger immediately rose to the surface, but he was right. “I got it. It was just a shock from the past I didn’t need.”

  “Go to Paris. Take this girl with you. Maybe what you found with her will turn out to be nothing. Maybe it’s something. But maybe the damn universe is telling you it’s time to let the past slide into hell.”

  “You have such a way with words, buddy.”

  “Aye,” he chided, his Scottish accent suddenly stronger than usual. “Just remember. Paris is the city of love.”

  “Very funny. I’ll call you when I know something.” I ended the call, able to laugh. Then I rubbed my beard again. Maybe he was right.

  Besides, I would enjoy taking her to a club in Paris.

  My lovely submissive had no idea what she’d started.

  Alexandra

  No one could ever call me Florence Nightingale, but I knew my way around first aid. I’d taken CPR and a few other EMT classes prior to switching my major to elementary education, much to the chagrin of my father. He’d wanted me to be a doctor or lawyer, but his reasons had little to do with skill or what I wanted. He’d merely called my brother a fuckup then placed the burden on my shoulders to ensure the family’s reputation would be upheld.

  I’d often wondered as what exactly, card carrying hypocrites?

  At least I’d been able to use the special training to determine Charlotte didn’t have any broken bones. However, since she’d allowed me to help her remove her dress, mostly at my insistence, I’d finally seen the number of partially healed bruises she’d managed to hide.

  She’d been used as a punching bag by some asshole. My bet was on Santiago, but she’d continued to insist he hadn’t been the one to cause her pain. I bought it like I did little green men were about to invade the Earth. She’d clammed up after that and I’d spent time fuming, pacing the floor.

  Her warning had rattled me, but not enough to reconsider finding out everything I could about what was going on.

  After convincing Charlotte to take a bath, I’d put her to bed. When she woke up, she and I were going to have a long talk. If not, I’d shake her until she confessed.

  I’d returned to the living room, trying to think about what to do. That had been almost an hour before with no decent results.

  Granted, I could say something to Jameson, but if I did, I had a feeling he’d be the big he-man all over again, getting himself killed while trying to protect me. What if I found us a different place to live?

  Laughable at this point unless Charlotte had squirreled away money.

  There was no way for me to solve anything this afternoon given I had to head to work in a few hours. When I heard a knock on the door, I immediately froze. Charlotte had plenty of friends. That much I knew. I moved closer to the door, eyeing the thick piece of steel as if it would provide answers as to who stood on the other side.

  With no peephole and no chain like the doors on my parents’ house, I’d get no advance warning. However, if it was a friend, maybe I could glean information. I took cautious steps closer, almost yelping with whoever it was pounded on the door.

  “Who is it?” I barked, deepening my voice.

  “Cut the crap, Char. It’s me.”

  That meant she hadn’t mentioned she had someone living with her. “I’m not feeling well.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” the guy snorted. “Just open the fucking door. I will knock it down if I need to. Don’t fuckin’ piss me off.”

  Don’t piss him off? I’d shifted into the livid side. “Hold on. Let me grab a robe.” I coughed so the asshole wouldn’t figure out he wasn’t talking to Char. Then I grabbed my phone so I could call the police. After flying by the kitchen, I stopped. Then I moved toward the butcher block, grabbing a knife. A girl couldn’t be too safe. I shoved the phone in my pocket then hid the knife behind my back before opening the door.

  I was greeted with a dozen roses shoved in my face.

  “Take these. I was told to bring them to you. The boss wants to make certain you’re okay.”

  I backed away, allowing them to drop to the floor.

  “What the fuck?” Whoever he was snarled, his angry glare not registering I wasn’t Charlotte for at least five full seconds. Then he stomped on the flowers as he came inside, slamming the door behind him. “You’re not Char.”

  “Oh, look. The Neanderthal has a brain larger than a pea.” My rage was doing the talking but I was not going to allow her to stay mixed up with these animals.

  He seemed confused I would dare talk to him that way. As we did our version of a stare off, I realized something just as sickening as the fact the killer was only a few feet away from me. He was also the driver who’d almost run me down.