Page 62 of Allure
She brought her hand up to her mouth. She was going to be sick. She felt dirty—as if she had been paraded around against her will and shown off for prying eyes to see what lurked underneath her clothes. She was angry and upset. How dare he do this to her? How dare anyone do this?
“Oh, God.” She felt tears prick her eyes, which made her even angrier. The interaction with those college-aged people made more sense now. Had they seen these videos of her in her home or the full video of her at Orchard?
Her phone rang, and this time she didn’t hit ignore when she saw his name on the screen.
“You sleazy son of a bitch,” she snapped.
His answering chuckle made her skin crawl. “Is that anyway to talk to your husband, sweet Syra?”
“I’m not your wife, Joel. I signed the divorce papers.” Her heart thundered in her chest. Hearing his voice over the phone sounded different now, like she was talking to a stranger.
“You’re mine, Syra. You think a piece of paper is going to stop you from belonging to me? I see you’ve forgotten yourself. It’s time to come home, back to where you belong.” He spoke as if she was no more than a piece of property that had gotten lost in a move, and he wanted it back. She wasn’t a person to him, she realized, just something he wanted to own.
“I’m not coming back to you.” Her voice held steady, even as her body shook, because she knew what he was going to tell her next, knew what he would hold over her head so she did what he wanted.
“You will, Syra. You always come back.” His voice held a deadly calm that sent a shiver down her back.
She pressed her hand against the wall to keep herself upright. Her world was spinning and she couldn’t see straight. “I told you I was done, Joel. Let me go,” she whispered, realizing she never really knew Joel at all.
“Oh, Syra, it’s cute you think you have any say in this. Don’t bother to pack a bag. I’ll tell you where to meet me. I’m taking you home or all those videos I sent you will hit the internet and in case,” he paused a moment, or maybe he didn’t. Her head was pounding, and she felt the floor come up to greet her before she was engulfed in a blanket of warmth. “Don’t ignore my call when I call you back or you’ll be sorry, Syra. I’m tired of watching you whore yourself for them. I have better use for you if you’re going to spread your legs.”
The phone fell out of her hand. She didn’t care where it landed. She buried herself in the cinnamon and sandalwood smell that tickled her nose. It was a comforting blanket, and if she just closed her eyes for a moment, let the pounding in her head take her under, maybe she could pretend she wasn’t living in this nightmare.
Joel looked down at his phone, saw the message from Colton, and cursed. He should have taken care of him first before he reached out to Syra. He probably should have taken care of him after the fires in Industrial City, but he still needed him for his part in Lisa Mensa’s disappearance. He was sure Garrison Inc had figured out who was supposedly siphoning money from their company by now. He’d seen the traffic hit on Horizon Inc’s webpage. He knew they were close to pinning what was happening at the company on someone, and all Joel had to do was place a phone call to tip the cops off on the murders to round things out.
He would have Syra back in his home and at his side. She knew he wasn’t bluffing about the videos, and if she thought he was, he had so much more of her to expose. He knew how quickly society turned on women who enjoyed sex, the internet especially. Her being tied to two men like Asli and Marco would make the exposure last longer, and she would never know peace. It was sad really when he thought about it, but who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? He wanted to bring her to heel, and this was the way he would do it.
“Silly girl, you have always been mine and will always belong to me.”
He pocketed his phone and made his way to Bleecker Street and to Colton. He thought to use Syra’s friend as some sort of leverage, but he was sadly mistaken. Joel had no issues disposing of things he found no use for.
Asli paced the length of the living room. He grew more agitated with each step. He’d only stopped long enough for a lingering touch against Syra’s skin, like he was allowing her to ground him before he did something he’d likely regret, only because it would take him away from her.
Marco pulled her closer to him on his lap; seeing her pass out by his elevators had scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know what was wrong or how to fix it, but when he’d seen her phone—seen who she’d been talking to and knew who had caused his estrellita to fall—he had never before been filled with so much rage. It filled his blood, turning his body into stone. He wanted to go out and find the piece of shit and put him in the ground once and for all. The only thing that had stopped him and Asli from leaving was the woman sitting on his lap, curling into him as she had silently cried.
He hated that she shed an ounce of energy on the dipshit. It was a violation—one he knew was going to take time for her to work through. Even when they got all the videos destroyed—because they would—he knew any lingering looks, any stranger’s smile, was going to put her on edge, make her think they had seen her when she should have been safe behind her closed doors and at Orchard.
Asli had already put in a phone call to Jamie to see what she could do to catch what had been uploaded and saved. Asli made sure to tell her to send a virus to whoever had watched it or downloaded it not only for watching something that all parties hadn’t agreed to record but also for being cheap and not paying sex workers their due by using the free sites.
“I’m sorry,” Syra mumbled into his chest, and Asli stopped his pacing. He looked like a tiger stuck in a cage, waiting for its captors to let him out to hunt.
“Why are you sorry?” Asli’s voice sounded like a whip hurling through the air as he stared at them with his fists clenched.
Syra jerked in Marco’s arms, and he nudged Asli’s foot with his own. He nodded toward the empty space next to him, hoping he got the memo to sit down and keep his anger in check.
Asli let out a breath and plopped down next to him. He grabbed Syra’s legs and pulled them over his lap. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, little star. Men like Joel shouldn’t be allowed to live. He’s in the wrong here. Not you.”
Syra lifted her head. “I know. I just hate how dirty I feel. My skin’s crawling like he’s here, watching me. I can’t go back to him. I won’t, but I don’t know how I’ll be able to handle anything if he leaks all those videos.” She wiped at her face, trying to stop the tears from falling.
“I already had some guy in my face staring at my chest like he’d seen me naked before and it skeeved me out. This won’t blow over, and unfortunately there are more assholes out there who won’t miss a chance to tell me how they watched my videos or try to belittle me for it.” She crossed her arms over her chest like she was trying to hide, and Marco pulled her in closer. He hated seeing her look so defeated.
He needed to do something, anything that put an end to this shit. He knew Colton wasn’t working alone, and seeing the videos on Syra’s phone proved it. He had to reach out to Orchard Tree to confirm who had been there that night, and as soon as he saw Colton’s name on the list, he really regretted not physically fighting him. The fact that he had gotten so close to them without him or Asli realizing it made him feel like shit—made him feel like he failed in keeping her safe and protected somehow.
Marco hugged her closer to him. He could handle whatever was thrown at him—he wasn’t even surprised when he thought about it that those two were hellbent on hurting him and hurting what he built. Colton was an all-around prick who liked to stir shit up, and Joel…well, he had more than one reason to want to bring him down. His connection to Syra was probably the biggest reason, given how their vendetta put her in the middle of it.
He kissed the side of her head, glad she was leaning on him this time and not just rushing back to Joel, rushing back to what could potentially turn into a dangerous situation one day. There was no way Joel could have ever loved her and be okay with hurting her like this.
He stiffened when he remembered Christina Benson and Lisa Mensa—how much they looked alike—and worry clung to him, wondering if there was a reason those women had gone missing and were probably both dead now.
