Real life has no such guarantees.
Real life is messy and complicated and dangerous in ways that have nothing to do with my bodily health and everything to do with my soul.
“What’s got you thinking so hard over there that you’re not watching the city around us?”
I jump. I can’t help it.
Jafar seems to melt out of the darkness on the other side of the town car. He’s dressed to kill tonight, his black suit expensive and expertly tailored, his dove gray shirt beneath it pressed within an inch of its life. The clothing should dampen his dangerous aura, but somehow it only brings it into sharp focus. This man is a predator. No one with half a brain who looks at him will believe anything else.
He waits for me to answer, and I spend a useless moment waffling between truth and fiction. In the end, I know he’ll accept nothing less than the former. “What is tonight supposed to accomplish?”
“I’m taking you to a sex club. It’s going to accomplish you orgasming half a dozen times.”
“Liar.”
He arches his brows. “That’s quite a tone you’ve taken.” Mild. So mild as he issues his non-threats. If I keep pushing him, keep lashing out, will he punish me? Perhaps he’ll put me over his knee right here in the back seat, shove my dress up and …
Focus, Jasmine.
I clear my throat, fighting for control. Fighting to appear just as calm and collected as he is despite the fact my heart wants to thunder right out of my chest. “You are perfectly capable of bringing me to orgasm half a dozen times in the penthouse. You have an agenda for tonight, and I would like to know what it is since I’m taking part in your plans.”
He reaches out and idly twines one of my curls around his finger. “You saw Tink today. What did she tell you about The Underworld?”
I notice that he didn’t question that she told me something. I wonder how well he knows Tink, and something hot and ugly flares to life beneath my skin. Jealousy. The realization almost makes me laugh out loud. As if I have any claim on this man.
No, he holds all the cards, all the claim, all the power.
Am I even allowed to protest if he fucks someone else?
The thought leaves me cold.
I swallow hard, trying to focus on the question he asked me. “She didn’t say much. It’s owned by someone called Hades. He makes deals?”
“Mmm.” Jafar releases my hair and sits back, depriving me of even that minimal contact. “Hades is dangerous, Jasmine. You won’t look at him and think it, but he’s the biggest threat in The Underworld.”
“Then why are we going?”
“Aside from the fact that it’s the best dungeon in the state and I want to play with my mouthy little brat?” A flash of his teeth in the shifting shadows, gone almost as soon as they appeared. “Everyone who’s worth killing is in that dungeon. There are rules that no one dares fuck with, but it’s a good place to go and scope out the enemy. Tonight, it’s about cementing my position.”
Understanding dawns, leaving a sour taste on my tongue. “You want everyone to know you staged a coup of my father’s territory.” I lean back, needing more distance between us. “You’re going to show me off, a war prize for your efforts.”
“Yes.”
I haven’t forgotten the reality of this arrangement. Of how it came to be. I look out the window. “Did you kill him?”
“Why do you sound so wretched, Jasmine? He wasn’t a good man. Fuck, he makes me look like a saint with some of the shit he did.” He moves closer, touching my chin to bring my attention back to him. This close, I can almost see his expression clearly, but it gives nothing away. Nothing except the way his gaze bores into me as if trying to impart some vital information. “He hit you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You would forgive me if I had murdered him?”
It’s still not an answer, but I reach deep for the truth. There’s a curious blankness when I think about my father. A veil I can’t pierce and have no interest in trying. “If you didn’t, you are leaving an enemy at your back.”
A pause, the barest of hesitations like I’ve surprised him.
I smile, though there’s no heart in it. Maybe there’s no heart in me, either. “My father is a terrible person. You worked for him long enough to know the truth.” He would have sold me. He did sell me, despite my protests. I can rail against Jafar until the end of time, but the truth is that I chose our deal, even if I didn’t fully realize the parameters of it. My father didn’t give me a choice. He would have handed me to Ali and never looked back as long as the contract went through.