Page 49 of Dark & Deceitful

I overhear Elden speak to Darmond and his men.

“Clean up the mess,” the boss orders.

“Bring the body to my room,” Elden requests.

“You’re sure?” Darmond asks.

Don’t say yes. Don’t say yes.

“Yes. I paid fifteen million for this bitch. The least she can do is take my cum.”

My lips waver as even Dark’s eyes round in disbelief.

“Very well.” Darmond snaps his fingers, and I hear his goons move into action.

“Cover her head,” Elden orders.

“Yes, sir,” one of Darmond’s men responds.

Chin dropping to my chest, I blow out an emotional breath as the scent of pennies suffuses the air. The men clean up Elden's mess before carting the corpse to Elden’s room.

“Sorry about that, everyone.” Darmond laughs awkwardly. “It doesn’t usually come to that.” He clears his throat. “Bring in the dessert, Chef.”

As if Dee wasn’t killed and another woman hurt, dinner and dessert resume. The sous chefs fill drinks and deliver sweets by the plateful.

Dark hooks a finger under my chin to force me to look at him. “Babe.”

“Yes?” I croak, voice thick with emotion.

He wipes away what’s left of my tears. “I want to shower and fuck you,” he announces loud enough the people at the table can hear. Then, in a lower tone, he leans in and whispers, “We need some time alone.”

Yes.

Time alone.

Away from these men.

Time to plan.

Time to get my head on straight.

Time to sober up.

Offering a shallow nod, I agree with this plan, and Dark snaps his fingers like Darmond.

A sous chef rushes to our side. “Sir?” the younger male asks, standing at attention.

Rubbing his fingers up and down my sides to calm me, Dark looks up at the chef. “We’d like a tray of all the desserts you’ve prepared tonight. Deliver it to my room.”

“Every dessert, sir?”

Dark purses his lips for half a beat as if he’s irritated by the male questioning him. “Yes. Is that a problem?” he growls.

“No. No,” the young chef recovers quickly. “It’s just we’ve prepared ten different kinds.”

“Then deliver the ten,” Dark states, as if that shouldn’t be an issue.

“Yes. Sir. No problem.” The sous chef scurries away, and Dark turns his attention back to me. Gripping my sides, he helps me to my feet, then smooths out the sides of my dress when I stand. He offers me the crook of his elbow and flicks his gaze there. “Ready?”

---