I opened the passenger door. “Get in the car.”
“And if I don’t?”
Jesus, this woman.
“Get in the goddamn car and you won’t have to find out.”
“I’ll scream.” Rebellion sparked in her brown eyes.
A slow smile curved my lips. “Good. I like a screamer. It gets my dick hard.”
Her breath hitched on a gasp, then she slowly ducked down and slid into the passenger seat without a word.
“That’s what I thought.” I closed her door, then walked around and got in on the driver’s side.“I’m about to do something I’ll probably regret, but before I do, you need to understand that you asked for this.” I’d had enough of the bullshit. It was time she knew her place in this game.
She stared forward as I pulled away from the curb.
“Do you understand that?” I was about to destroy her, shatter her dreams and crush her will to fight me. The twisted, fucked-up thing was that part of me was excited about it. “You wanted this. I tried to protect you from it.”
She darted her gaze in my direction. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Have it your way.” My fingers scrolled the screen on my dash until I found Winston Radcliffe’s name.
He answered on the second ring. “Hello.”
Anniston immediately sat up straight in her seat. She sucked in a gasp as her eyes lit up.
I reached over and clamped a hand over her mouth just as she was about to speak. “Hello, Winston.” Then I muted the call on our end and looked over at her. “You’ll get your turn. Until then,” I zipped an imaginary zipper over my lips. “Or I can just end the call right now.” I held my finger over the red circle.
“No.” Her voice shook. Her eyes were bright with hope. “I’ll wait.”
“Chandler.” His voice went quiet. “I already spoke to Grey. I need a little more time. It’s not just my decision.”
I leaned back in my seat as I eased into traffic and unmuted the call. “Not why I’m calling but good to know. I wanted to tell you I got your message loud and clear.” Using the button on the back of my steering wheel, I turned up the volume, so Anniston didn’t miss a word of our conversation.
“Is Anniston okay?”
Oh, now he decided to worry about his daughter. When we’d first told him that we’d taken someone from the palace, she didn’t even cross his mind.
I glanced across the car. Her knee was bouncing like a jackhammer, and she kept running her palms over her thighs.
“She’s fine, although I can’t say the same about my girl.” The dancer from my club suffered a mild concussion, and she was out of work until her face healed.
“If you hurt my daughter—”
Anniston leaned toward the dash, as if he could hear her better if she was closer to the speaker. “Da, it’s me. I’m fine. I just want to go home.” Her voice sang with useless faith.
I glared at her and mumbled to myself, “There goes that goddamn mouth.” Maybe I needed to fuck it again to shut her up. I told her to wait her turn.
Winston let out a heavy breath. “I know, sweetheart. I’m working on it. I’ll get you home soon.” He sounded every bit the concerned father. Bullshit. A concerned father would have shut that website down the second he found out we were using his daughter as collateral. This guy had the balls to ask for more time.
She leaned back, her shoulders straight and brows furrowed. Her gaze stayed trained on the car speaker. “What do you mean you’re working on it? You knew I was here? Have you known the whole time?” Her voice went from hopeful to desperate.
He ignored her questions. “Just do whatever he says, okay.”
Her eyes welled with tears as she sank back into her seat.
I chimed in because the conversation was over. She’d heard enough, and it was time for him to shut the fuck up. I wasn’t one ofthem. I didn’t need a slave. I needed leverage. “Tick tock, Your Highness. Unfortunately, unlike helpless young girls,timeis something you don’t have a lot of.” My foot went heavy on the gas. A slow-moving truck moved to the right lane, letting me pass. “As of this moment, you have five days to get it done.” The car went silent when I tapped the red button and ended the call.
Anniston stared out the window as we passed one car after another. The lights of the city flashed through the darkness and highlighted the sadness in her eyes.
Being the asshole was what I did. It was who I was. That didn’t mean it was always easy.
Once in a while, her breath hitched, and I caught her swallowing a sob as she silently swiped a tear from her cheek. Finally, she spoke, “He knows I’m here. He’s known this whole time.” Her voice was barely a whisper, the fight from earlier completely drained from her veins. “I get it now. I’m not the princess in this story.” She blinked slowly, as if she were lost. “I’m a pawn.”
I kept my eyes on the road and tried to ignore the way my stomach clenched at her words. I wanted her broken, and here she was. So, why the fuck wasn’t I happy about it?