Page 48 of Queen Of Dark Money

Iwas getting nowhere withRiver.Clearly, he was a harder egg to crack thanI’dcounted on.ButIcouldn’t give up.Isaw the way he looked at me last night.Sawthat burning look in his eyes that meant the same thing to every man.

Hewanted me.AndIwas off limits, probably thanks to his boss’s orders.Icouldn’t convince him to bend, probably not in the slightest.Andescape was still off the table.ButIneeded to make the best of this situation, and dragging out a losing battle wasn’t howIwould get ahead in this game.

Ihad to hold out untilEddySinclairsent for me.Eventually, he would have to.Iwas a loose end.Andhe didn’t like those.

“So,”Itried again, hoping to redirect the conversation in a way that worked for me. “Whatexactly are you going to do with me?”

Hewatched me crawl back onto the couch with a stern glare, his deep auburn curls falling into those gorgeous green eyes. “I’mnot sure yet.Whenthe man in charge calls me with an update,I’llmake a decision then.”

Mylashes fluttered prettily. “Youdon’t strike me as a man who does as he’s told.”

Heleaned over the couch, baited into action but giving zero fucks, apparently. “I’mnot.”

Hislips were inches from mine asItilted my head back and let them part, hot breath fanning against my face. “Thenwhy won’t you play with me?”

“Because, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice like sandpaper against my skin, “Ilike my dick attached to my body, and you remind me of a very dangerousVenusfly trap.IfIget too close, you might snap parts of me off and devour them.”Heshivered, closing his eyes for a second. “Letalone what they’ll do to me if they thinkI’vetainted the asset.”

“Theasset, the captive, the ransom, the bait.Somany names for the pretty flower you all seem determined to pretend you’re not afraid of.Butyou’re afraid of me, make no mistake.”

“Prettyflower?”Hechuckled asIleaned back, stretching out in my shiny silver dress. “Morelike tempting thornbush.Nowput on those clothes and stop playing your games,MissSinclair.”

Iwished not for the first time this week thatI’dbothered to keep my social media accounts up to date—or at all.Havinga stalker in my college years made me eager to deactivate any manner of account he could use to track me.Sonow, the online presence that would have validated my claims not tobe my sister simply didn’t exist.

“Youknow,”Ipointed out, grasping at straws, “if you just call your bosses and tell them whatItold you, this could all be easily cleared up.”

Thestern look on his face told me how far that line of thinking would get me.

Thiswas fast turning out to be a hell of an experience, and not in a good way.So, with a sigh of defeat,Idecided to do whatIcould to make the most of it.

“Okay, you win,River.I’llbe the perfect little captive for you until your boss tells you the ransom has been met.Thenthis will all be over, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

Andwith that declaration,Istood up, stripped the gownIwas wearing right off in front of him, and stood there with my hands on my hips, staring him down with nothing but a fucking bra on, determined to make this as uncomfortable for him as he made it for me.

Hedidn’t even blink.Hiseyes stayed firmly glued to my face, even asIbent over to grab the clothes he offered me.Theshirt went on first, then the socks, and then finally,Islipped into the shorts, yanking the drawstring tight enough to keep them on my waist.

“I’lljust go occupy myself cleaning up the mess in the kitchen,”Iground out, feeling a little defeated and a tad underwhelmed.Perhapsthese men really were immune to me.OrmaybeRiver’swillpower was just that damn good.Causethere was no way my father was scary enough not to fuck with me whenIwas offering, quite blatantly.

“Iget most streaming services,” he started, clearing his throat. “Andyou’re welcome to anything in the kitchen.Ifyou want to give me your measurements,I’llhave someone go out and get you some clothes so you don’t have to wear mine all the time.”Hewalked around the living room and put himself between me and the kitchen, staring me down with a glare that reminded me of my mother’s face when she was laying down the law. “Don’tworry about the kitchen.I’llclean up the glass.”

Ipouted at him.I’dbeen raised to clean up my own messes, and this just put me even more off-kilter. “Imade the mess, though.”

“Notintentionally.Andyou’ve already fucked your foot up.Don’tyou think you’ve done enough?”

Thesass in his tone set me on edge again.Iwas beginning to get whiplash from these men and their mood swings. “Idon’t thinkI’veeven scratched the surface ofdoing enough,buddy.”

IfStonethoughtI’dtortured him,Riverwas about to find out how muchIcould feasibly do, even as a captive.

Bynightfall,I’dmade myself at home, sprawled out on the couch, binge-watching some stupid reality show.Theactors ran around in the background, bitching at each other, making up conflict for the sake of conflict, andItuned them out even asIpretended to be engrossed in the shit, popping a kernel of popcorn into my mouth, one at a time, wishing landlines were still a thing in today’s day and age.Ifthere’d been a single house phone around now,Icould easily get a message toEddy, or hell, even to my mother.

Shewas probably super worried.I’dgone almost two weeks without checking in for one of our nightly calls.I'dbe shocked if there wasn’t a missing person’s report for me yet.

Myworst fear was that she’d thinkIhad abandoned her.Thather sickness had been too much for me, andI’ddecidedIwould be better off on my own.

Inever wanted her to feel that way, andIknew how her mind worked.

I’dinherited it, after all.

Iwanted to rage.Tothrow things, break things, and make someone pay for the situationIfound myself in, but really,Ihad no one to blame but myself.Forbeing greedy.ForthinkingIcould handle myself across the fucking country with no support group and no safety net.

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