Page 21 of Queen Of Dark Money

Shecertainly didn’t talk like a socialite princess.Shedidn’t act like one, either, if her posture on the couch, which wasdevolving by the second, was any indication.She’dstarted to slump, and her hands weren’t making an effort to rearrange her posture again.

“I’mnot amused,”Isaid, leaning forward a bit to study her. “I’mlivid.Idon’t have time to babysit an adult–”

“Listen,Ididn’t ask for this, you dick.I’mnot even who the fuck you thinkIam.”

Myeyes looked her up and down for a moment beforeIrose from my seat and marched into the kitchen.Iyanked a pair of scissors from a drawer and shuffled back into the living room, only to find my captive missing.

Fuckmy life.

Wherecould one lonely ass woman have snuck off to in a few seconds alone, with her hands bound and wearing stilettos?

Ibegan my hunt, noting that at least the door hadn’t been opened.I’dhave heard the tiny ding of the alarm system engaging or disengaging if she’d opened it and snuck into the hall.Andthe windows were all still shut, so that was out.

Iheard a shuffling noise from the stairway leading to the bedrooms and winced internally.Notelling what she was up to, and sinceIhad weapons around the house thatIdidn’t want pointed at me,Irushed up the stairs, scissors still in hand, like a fucking idiot at top speed.Therewould have been a scene ifI’dtripped on the way up to stop her reign of terror on whatever unsuspecting room she’d managed to force her way into, but there was no time to dwell on that possibility.

Thedoor to my room was half opened, a light on inside whichI’dnot left on in my haste to get to the door.Shovingit inward,Iwas greeted with a hell of a sight.

Thereshe was, sitting cross-legged in the center of my bed, a knife in her mouth, gripped between her teeth, sawing away at her bindings like a fucking unhinged animal with single-minded purpose.Hereyes were wide, flaming with intensity, and asoft growl escaped her throat as she worked, oblivious to my presence in the doorway.

Orat leastIthought she was until she snapped the zip tie around her wrists, yanked the plastic from her skin, and turned that stare at me, her growl intensifying.

Myhands were in the air almost immediately, still clinging desperately to the scissors.Ofcourse those assholes gave me a fucking deranged bitch to watch.She’dprobably kill me in my sleep.

“Holdup there, killer.I’mnot the enemy here.”Ishot my gaze to my hand holding the objectI’dgone in search of to help her. “See?Iwas going to cut you loose.”

Unsurprisingly, she looked less than convinced. “Ormaybe you wanted to stab me with them.”

“Right.Andin the kitchen of a billionaire with a culinary background, a pair of shit ass scissors was the bestIcould do.”Irolled my eyes. “Canyoubemore paranoid?”

“Well, you tell me,” she snapped, her hands gripping that fucking bladeI’dleft under my pillow in a death hold. “Iwas kidnapped slipping out of the bathroom at a public event, tied up, bagged and tagged, and then hauled to some strange rich dude’s fucking palace to be held for ransom,Iassume.”Thelight glinted off the blade as she waved it menacingly in my direction. “Whydon’t you go ahead and get my father on the line, then, and tell him you want whatever it is you criminals want, in exchange for my safe return.I’msure he’ll be eager to pay up and get me back.”

Somethingin her voice gave me pause.Itwas like she almost didn’t believe her own words.Perhapsthere was something there, beneath the surface.NodoubtEddySinclairtreated every other human on this planet like they were beneath him.Iwould bet that same courtesy extended to his daughter.

“Unfortunately, you’re not so much my prisoner as you are my bosses’ prisoner.SoIwon’t be making any phone calls on their behalf, or yours.”Carefully,Iset the scissors on the stand beside me, kicking the door shut with the heel of my foot. “Howabout you put the knife down, andI’llfind you something more comfortable to wear–”

“Idon’t want your fucking charity, asshole,” she growled, baring her teeth like fangs. “Iwant to leave.”

“Nocan do.”Istepped forward, then took another step, watching her for any sign of instability. “I’msure you watched enough movies to know how this shit works.”

Sidlingover to the shelf in my room whereI’dstrapped a pistol to the underside in a hidden spot was complicated when a cagey woman was holding a knife pointed at me, fierce determination in her eyes.Somehow, though,Imanaged, and whenIfinally reached the fucking thing,Iwas quick to reach up, muscle memory kicking in from the drillsI’drun whenIfirst bought the place.Thereassuring weight of the cold metal settled into my palm, andIpointed it almost in her direction, making sure she knewIwasn’t trying to kill her, butIwould if it came to it.

Hostageor not.

“Here’show this is going to work, sweetheart,”Igrowled, my voice raspy from the lingering nervesIrefused to admit existed.Itried to soften it a bit to ease her into compliance. “You’regoing to put that knife down, andI’mgoing to take it and put it back where it belongs.Then, you’re going to follow me down the hall to a bedroom whereI’llbring you some food and water, and you’ll stay there untilIfigure out what the hell is going on here.”

Thefight left her almost immediately, and my jackboot knife fell to the sheets, nicking the soft fabricI’dspent a small fortune having imported fromFrance.Theurge to swear was almost painfully intense, butIbit it back, yanking the years of mannersand class that had been beaten into me to the forefront soIcould treat her with a semblance of dignity.

Afterall, it wasn’t her fault she was in this predicament.

Shewas just collateral damage.

Offeringa hand to the vixen in my bed was automatic.Ididn’t bank on her picking that knife back up with the speed of a fucking ninja.Ididn’t even register the wound at first as blood welled up in my palm, dripping over the edges and onto the floor asIbled out in front of her.Bothsets of eyes in the room were drawn to the deep red hue, though, and its almost mesmerizing intensity against my pale white skin.

“Shit,” she swore, the blue of those deep, expressive orbs flicking up to meet my own.“Shit.”

“Shit,”Iagreed, at a loss for words, as she grabbed my bloodied hand and dragged me to the attached bathroom.

Thepain was the first timeIregistered how badly she’d sliced me.AsIgritted my teeth, the realization that she’d taken advantage of me welled to the surface and poisoned my previously kind demeanor.

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