Page 4 of Sexted By a Stranger
Even through the smoke and hazy lights, those amber eyes burned bright enough to stop my heart. Like a fucking star using its light to rip through all my indifference and seize the dead center of my vision.
"New girl?" Connor followed my gaze and let out a snort. His fat fingers waved the cigar toward the stage. "Face and body are prime meat, but she's too uptight. Needs proper breaking in."
I ignored him.
Every fiber of my being was locked on that figure on stage.
She turned clumsily, and our eyes met.
Those clear pupils contracted sharply, panic flashing through. Her movements stuttered to a halt. She unconsciously clutched at the scraps of fabric on her body, clearly desperate to flee.
Connor clicked his tongue impatiently, annoyed that the toy on stage wasn't performing properly.
His bloated body rocked back as he casually grabbed a wad of greasy hundreds from the money clip on the table. Without even looking, he flung them at the stage like tossing scraps to a beggar, dripping with contempt.
The green bills traced a short arc through the air before landing with a sharp slap right by her silver-heeled feet. Others immediately followed suit, money raining down like filthy fallen leaves.
In that instant, something alien erupted from deep in my chest like molten lava, flooding through my limbs, crashing against the rationality I prided myself on.
Pure, instinctive rage and disgust that wanted to burn everything to ash.
Disgust at those sticky gazes crawling over her.
Disgust at those dirty green bills floating through the air, trying to buy her current humiliation and her future.
Most of all, disgust at Connor, that fat pig, daring to touch what I'd claimed—even if only with his eyes and money.
She didn't belong here.
I wanted to drag her off that stage, wash her clean, then lock her away, and make her the most unique piece in my private collection.
The thought detonated in my consciousness with crystal clarity—a desire so foreign even I found it strange.
"Lennox." My voice cut through whatever vulgar commentary Connor was about to spew.
The shadow behind me glided forward half a step, bowing slightly. "Boss?" His voice stayed low.
My eyes never left that figure center stage.
"I wanna know all about her in one hour."
"Yes, Boss." Lennox's response came without hesitation, clean and efficient. He shifted slightly, his shadowy form melting into the crowd behind us, moving toward backstage.
The fat on Connor's face twitched, marked with the irritation of being completely dismissed. He forced out a dry chuckle, trying to regain control. "Excellent taste, Mr. Bellomo. Interested in this baby deer now? She's—"
"Connor," I cut him off, finally shifting my gaze from the stage to him, ignoring the self-satisfied cunning lurking in his eyes. "Those venues you mentioned. How were we splitting the profits again?"
He choked, that fake smile completely falling off his face, the viciousness in his eyes threatening to spill over. Though the negotiation table's power play had regained dominance, only I knew the desire ignited in my chest still simmered silently.
Vesperwood Manor lay steeped in near-absolute silence at midnight. Heavy velvet curtains blocked out the sparse starlight outside. Only a solitary desk lamp lit the study, casting a yellow pool of light on the expensive mahogany desktop.
Lennox's efficiency never disappointed me. A thin file folder now lay quietly on the desk. No markings on the cover, but I knew it contained everything about that girl.
Just a few words sketching out a soul backed against life's cliff edge.
No wonder.
No wonder her eyes held the desperation of a last-ditch struggle, the fragility of something on the verge of collapse. Yet beneath it all, an unbreakable spirit showed through.
