Page 70 of Tower

Bellatrix sighed again, pulling a revolver from the desk drawer. “You’re too old to keep locked away. It’s your twenty-third birthday. Did you forget your own birthday?”

Her birthday. Azalea blinked. She had forgotten—not that she had any clue what day it actually was. Days without seeing the sunlight would do that.

“Why would you keep me locked away? I don’t understand! You were always so protective of me, and now you want to sell me to some—some—”

“Azalea, please pay attention,” her mother snapped. “I have no use for you any longer. That’s the truth of it. And keeping you is more of a hassle than it’s worth. I could kill you—” She waved the barrel of the revolver in Azalea’s general direction. “But look at you! That hair, those damn eyes of yours, and your body was made for a man’s pleasure. You do have some worth left. What better birthday present than a new life.”

Azalea rubbed her eyes. Why couldn’t she get her mind to clear enough to understand what was being said?

“Don’t worry about that dizziness you’re feeling,” her mother said. “Just a side-effect of the sedative. Once we’re done here, you can go back down to your cell and sleep.”

“Done?” Azalea blinked a few more times. How had she slipped her a sedative? She hadn’t eaten or drunk. She’d only taken a shower, and brushed her teeth.

The toothpaste? Could it have been drugged?

“Yes. After you’ve rested some more, you’ll be brought up here to get ready. There are several prospective buyers coming tonight for dinner. You’ll be showcased then.”

“Prospective…” Azalea’s eyelids were too heavy to keep open. She leaned against the armchair.

“Yes, and I’m sure you won’t disappoint me. You’ll smile, and you’ll speak when spoken to, and I’ll make a tidy profit.” Bellatrix lifted her gun. “I truly don’t like to be disappointed.” Swinging her arm to the right, she pulled the trigger.

Azalea’s ears rang from the sound of the gunshot, but what stole her attention was Santos falling to the ground in a heap. The bullet had struck him in the center of his forehead. Blood pooled on the floor. The men who had been holding him flanked Azalea and grabbed her arms.

Was she next? Would her mother end her life just as it was about to begin?

Did Peter even know where she was?

Peter took over her thoughts while her mind slowed to a crawl then a stop, and the darkness she’d been chasing took over completely.

Chapter 22

Peter slammed the door to the office and stalked to the wet bar his cousin kept. A stiff drink would not be enough to wipe away the anger and fear and guilt lingering over him, but it would at least dull it enough to let him think more clearly.

Where the fuck would Bellatrix have taken Azalea? They’d already searched the townhouse and the small office building registered in Bellatrix’s name. Nothing. Not a fucking trace.

“Peter.” Daniel barged into the room.

“What?” Peter downed another gulp of whiskey.

“Hunter and Damien have arrived.”

Peter poured another finger of liquor. “Send them in. What are you waiting for?”

Daniel opened his mouth like he was about to speak, but shook his head and disappeared again.

Hunter and Damien walked in, wearing confused, but irritated expressions.

“Peter.” Hunter extended his hand, but Peter didn’t bother with the pleasantries.

“Damien, sit.” Damien worked for Hunter, which was the only reason he was involved at all. They needed Hunter’s uncle to cooperate.

“Peter, what’s going on?” Hunter demanded.

Peter sighed. “Azalea’s gone.” He breathed out, the pain at the memory of her being spirited away hadn’t dulled a fraction even with the copious amount of whiskey he’d drunk.

“Azalea? The girl my uncle was asking about?” Hunter pressed.

“Yes. Her name is Azalea Gothel. Except”—Peter looked at Damien—“I don’t think that’s her real name.”

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