Page 55 of Power and Possession

I felt the inside of my throat thicken, and tears misted my eyes as I imagined his despair. One of the staff would call him, or he might have security feeds on his phone and perhaps watched it in real-time. I wasn’t sure how my father’s men managed to get past his entire security team, but they had.

I laid my head back against the seat, trying to relax, but it was proving impossible. My mind kept picturing the way Steele’s eyes looked when he professed his love. The way he tenderly held me after the opera. How he made love to me in front of the fire.

The images swirled around in my head until I couldn’t take it anymore. The second we landed, I was going to take a massive sleeping pill and try and sleep my way out of this messy situation.

Luckily we landed quickly. I looked out the window and instantly recognized Heathrow. We were back in London.

The plane circled the tarmac, and I could see a black limo sitting to the side, waiting. I wondered briefly if my father would be waiting for me inside, but I was so overtired and emotionally wrought that I didn’t care.

The driver opened the door to the limo as soon as I disembarked and I hurried to slide into the backseat. I was still wearing my pajamas and they did little to protect me from the cold. Goosebumps puckered my arms as I ducked my head andfinally looked around the limo.

My father sat there, looking the same as he always had. I didn’t know what I’d pictured, but it certainly wasn’t this. I guess I expected him to be thin from worry, his face thick with stubble and his eyes hollow from lack of sleep. Instead, he acted as if he was just picking me up from a long weekend away or after a semester in college.

I sat across from him, a bit shocked by his appearance.

“I suppose you’re well?” He asked the question as if we were work colleagues. I wanted to scream at him, let him know what a terrible situation he’d put me in. But my eyelids were heavy and my headache was so bad that I winced in pain as the lights from the runway flashed.

“I guess,” I murmured, looking down at my bare feet.

“I should have brought a change of clothes for you.” Finally, a bit of guilt in his tone.

“Yeah, that would have been nice.”

The limo took us to the Dorset Hotel, and we checked into the nicest suite they had. We rode up the elevator together, both of us quiet. He unlocked the door to the suite and I went inside, quickly claiming one of the bedrooms.

I closed the door and looked at the crisp, white sheets. They were so different from the black satin ones that Steele had. Some things about him were so dark, like his personality. But he also had lighthearted moments, moments that made him charismatic and endearing.

Fuck. I needed to stop thinking about him immediately.

I pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed, and then I shut my eyes, praying for a dreamless sleep to take me.

Chapter Thirty

Steele

I was tied to a chair. My torso was restricted, a heavy nylon rope wrapped around my middle. Same with my hands and legs. As I came to, I tested the ropes, flexing. They were strong. My bullet proof vest had also been removed.

I looked around the dimly lit room. The walls appeared to be made of concrete. I whistled, and the sound echoed back at me. This was a small space inside a much larger building. My guess was that it was some kind of warehouse that Phillips owned. My mind raced through all the intelligence that Cooper had pressed in front of my face—where did he have warehouses at? New York, Egypt, and London. There was one other country, but I couldn’t recall it. Cooper would remember—but where was he?

I was alone in the room, and I hoped that they’d left him behind. Cooper didn’t need to be wrapped up in this. He was still a kid, a couple years younger than me.

My head throbbed, no doubt from where I’d been knocked out. I continued looking around the room, hoping to find something to aid in my escape. Besides a metal desk in the corner there was nothing else in this cell, which told me that Phillips didn’t intend for me to be here long. He intended to move me to another location, or to murder me on the spot. My hunch told me that it was the second. What father wouldn’t want to murder the man who’d touched his daughter?

Ashlynn. Where was she? Was she still at my estate, or had Phillips retrieved her? At least she was safe in any case. The one good thing about Phillips catching up to me was thatAshlynn would be okay. If it had been any other underground player, they would have taken her and used her, either for sport or as a bartering chip.

Just imagining it made my stomach churn.

Water dripped down from the ceiling, and the room smelled musty and damp. Not Egypt, then. Either New York or London. Too bad there wasn’t a window in this room. That would give me a better indication as to how much time had passed.

A red light suddenly blinked in the corner, and I realized that I was being monitored.

“Hey Topher,” I taunted. “Why don’t you bring your daughter in here? I’m sure she misses me.”

I wanted him in here, wanted him to slip up and tell me that Ashlynn was okay. I wanted to know if she knew I’d been taken hostage. Man, how the tables had turned.

Would she beg her father for my life? I knew her feelings towards me were much stronger than she’d ever let on. I only hoped that she’d act on them. At this point, I wasn’t sure how I would get out of this.

After a few minutes, the door unlocked.

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