Page 105 of Gilded Locks
She was on her feet and in his arms in two seconds flat. As if sensing what this was doing to her, his arms tightened protectively around her.
His lips pressed to her hair. “You okay?”
“No, but I will be when this is over.” Her hands fisted in his shirt, taking comfort in his strength.
“They’re only words,” he whispered. “We know the truth.”
“If they were just words, we wouldn’t be here. They’re confessions.” She looked up at him, noting the way tension radiated through his form.
“He’s going to pay.” He placed another kiss on her head. “I have to get back.”
Had he only come to check on her? She smiled up at him, unable to express how deeply she appreciated his concern. “Thanks for checking on me.”
He traced a gentle knuckle along her jaw. “Your my number one concern, now.”
She covered his hand with hers, wishing he didn’t have to go. “Be careful.”
With a silent nod, he left the room. She looked back at the monitors. Something fundamental had altered in the room’s atmosphere, something that ordinary people would interpret as unsafe. But Jordan was so high on his own ego, he missed the shift.
“Mr. Calder,” Stone said quietly. “I think it’s time you understood exactly where you are.”
Jordan’s confidence faltered. “I’m sorry?”
Hunter quietly returned to the meeting room, reclaiming his seat at the head of the table.
“This isn’t a resort.” Stone’s voice was silk over steel. “And it’s more than a private club. Our very exclusive memberships invite people into our home. They trust us to keep them safe at all times. That level of security requires consent. Real consent. Informed consent. The kind that can be withdrawn at any time.”
“Unlike what you described,” Hunter added. “Which sounds more like assault.”
Jordan’s face went pale, then flushed angry red. “Now wait just a damn minute?—”
“No,” Stone interrupted smoothly. “You wait. You see, Mr. Calder, we’ve been recording this conversation. Every word. And what you’ve just described, using ‘intimate pressure’ until women become remarkably compliant, that’s what we call rape.”
“I never said?—”
“You did,” Ash confirmed calmly. “In detail. Along with your philosophy about taking what you want from those too weak to stop you.”
“Waifs, I believe you called them,” Stone said.
“And sheep,” Hunter reminded.
“Yes, young and big-eyed. Aren’t those the exact words you used?” Ash looked at his phone, then shrugged. “Eh, we have it all recorded. We can fact-check later.”
“We also have surveillance footage from your last visit,” Hunter said with lethal calm.
The monumental implication of Hunter’s words set in and Jordan exploded, “This is entrapment!”
The lawyer bolted to his feet, his briefcase clutched like a shield. “You guaranteed anonymity. My client never admitted to any specific crimes!”
“Didn’t he?” Hunter’s smile was predatory. “Because it sounded very specific to me. Almost as if he were describing a particular incident. A particular victim.”
“This is a goddamn fantasy club for Christ’s sake! You think I’m the first man to get a little rough with a woman in your halls. Give me a break?—”
Hunter had him by the back of the neck and bent over the table in half a second. “Think back. Last time you were here, you met someone.” He leaned down, dropping his voice dangerously low as he growled in Jordan’s ear. “She had an accent… Just. Like. This.”
Jordan’s eyes went wide with sudden understanding. “You know her? The Russian girl? That’s what this is about?”
“Ah,” Stone said softly. “You do remember her.”
