Page 38 of Tormented Heir

“She’s Dorian’s,” the man slurs. “She belongs to him. Cost him a lot. Almost a million in debts owed. She’s worth it. Untouched.”

A million? Dollars? A million!

I can’t breathe.

Hana gave me to Ari for a million dollars? Holy hell. They paid that because I’m a virgin? What the fuck?

All my years of being careful, of heeding Mum’s advice and being wary of men taunt me now. The one thing I protected is going to be my downfall.

The man holding ragdoll guy up takes a knife from a holster on his thigh and plunges it into his guts. I scream around the gag, and the faintness washing over me threatens to drag me under.

“Hey.” The man they call boss snaps his fingers at me, his voice deep and soothing. “Look at me. Breathe. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt you.”

His gaze holds mine again, and there’s such command in his tone and reassurance in his eyes, that amazingly, I do breathe. I pull air in through my nose and blow it out. He gives the slightest nod as his own inhale and exhale matches mine.

He has the slightest accent, but his English is excellent.

“Boss?” The giant of a man who spoke before points at me. “Now that Mila is safe, and the yacht is secured, can I take this one for some fun?” He leers at me. “That’s what the Pakhan wants, no?”

He reaches down and touches my arm, trailing his finger down it and the boss explodes.

He just snaps. One minute the giant is touching me, the next he’s against the wall with the bosses big hand wrapped around his throat. The giant’s eyes bug out of his head in shock and fear.

“No,” the boss snarls. “You can’t take any of them. Get a fucking grip, and stop dicking around or as God is my witness, I’ll choke the life right out of you. Don’t touch her again. She’s not yours to put your hands on.”

Relief floods through me, even as my mind tries to grapple with a man being gutted in front of me and this boss half throttling one of his men for touching me.

He lets go, and steps back and the giant coughs and winces, he doesn’t even look at me.

The man who was gutted isn’t dead yet and I want to scream and never stop at the horror all around me. He’s still gurgling on the floor, and I can’t bear to look.

“Let the hired and trafficked women go,” the boss commands. “Take them to shore, and call the number for Layna. She can find them to a safe place for the next few nights. Take Mila home. I want four men with her at all times until she’s safely returned to her father.”

The big brute’s face twists, but he nods. “Yes, boss.”

“You want me to take her too … to shore, I mean?” The second guy points at me, nervous as hell now his colleague just got half choked.

The boss looks to me, and his gaze travels the length of my body, then back to my face. There’s so many emotions flickering in the depths of his eyes that I can’t single one out. He studies my features and gently reaches to release the gag.

I start to speak immediately. Begging, crying, saying words that barely make sense. My brain can’t stop me. It spews out of me like the bile did earlier.

The man puts his finger to his lips and shushes me. “Don’t make me put it back on, little bluebird.”

Little bird? For a moment, I’m confused. Then I realize he’s talking about the tattoo of a bluebird on my shoulder.

I use all my self-control to stop talking. Ancient instincts that we so often ignore tell me this man isn’t going to hurt me so long as I do as he says and keep myself calm.

The man continues studying me. His gaze roams my face. Eventually, he speaks. “No. Leave her with me.”

Oh, God, what does that mean for me? This can’t be happening. I don’t get to go with the other girls? With Josie?

The man is handsome, devastatingly so, and he doesn’t seem to be an uncouth animal like Dorian and his friends, but I don’t care. I just want to be free.

He cocks his head as he watches me, and the light catches those sharp cheekbones and makes him look like a prince from a fairy tale. Except, while I might be a damsel in distress, I don’t think this guy is any kind of hero.

“Boss? You okay?” Brute Number One asks.

“Perfectly,” the boss answers. He doesn’t tear his gaze from me. Slowly, he reaches to me.

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