Gaeton meets my gaze across the room. His dark eyes widen for the barest moment before he locks it all down. There was a time when he didn’t try to hide himself from me, but I’ve long since burned that bridge. I don’t deserve his kindness, or that hint of vulnerability that belies his size and strength. He could take me apart at the seams, but he always handled me as if I were made of spun glass.
No longer.
He starts to stand, but goes still halfway through the motion, his attention landing on something over my right shoulder. Or, rather, someone. The air shifts in the room, filling with the promise of violence. Just like that, I know who’s behind me.
My entire body clenches as Beast’s rough voice sounds in my ear. “Hello, Isabelle.”
Chapter 2
Isabelle
I twist to see Beast and, as always, his beauty takes my breath away. He looks like the prince in a fairy tale, all sculpted cheekbones and sensual lips. His short dark hair is perfectly styled, and he’s wearing his customary jeans and T-shirt. It should make him look underdressed—everyone else in the room is wearing suits and dresses—but Beast simply looks at home in his skin.
One would never know he’s one of the deadliest people on my father’s payroll.
My breath catches and pain lances my chest. Not my father’s payroll. Not any longer. Not ever again. He’s gone and there’s nothing in heaven or hell that will bring him back again.
Something flickers in Beast’s blue eyes, something almost like concern, before he goes icy cold. “What are you doing here, Isabelle?”
I can see Gaeton climbing slowly to his feet out of the corner of my eye. I keep my body slightly turned toward him, an invitation I desperately need him to take me up on. I need both these men in a room, and I can’t do that if Gaeton thinks I showed up here with Beast.
I lick my lips, and Beast’s attention follows the movement. “I came for you.” I glance at Gaeton, now striding toward us with long steps. “Both of you.”
Gaeton stops just out of reach. I’m painfully aware of a number of eyes on us. We have the attention of the room. If they shun me now …
My sisters will pay the price. Our territory will pay the price.
I shove down my pride, shove it deep and lock it away. There is no place for it here. I can’t demand anything, can’t expect them to fall in line. They hold all the power in this interaction and pretending otherwise will only result in ruin. Instead, I let my voice quiver the tiniest bit. I’m not even faking, not really. I’m simply letting my control lapse a small fraction of an inch. “I just want to talk. Please.”
Gaeton and Beast exchange a look filled with so much animosity, I have to fight not to take a step back. Beast shrugs. Gaeton gives himself the smallest shake and looks around, seeming to register that we have an audience. “You have five minutes.”
“More like two,” Beast murmurs.
Not enough time, but I’ll make it work. I don’t have another choice. “Okay.”
Gaeton turns on his heel and stalks to the door leading deeper into the club. I follow, having to work to keep pace with him in my high heels. I can feel Beast at my back, but he makes no move to walk next to me. Impossible not to feel like a prisoner being marched to her execution. These men would never, ever hurt me … Or at least that used to be true. I don’t know what’s true anymore. The world stopped making sense when my father died.
It doesn’t matter. Whatever their price, I’ll pay it to ensure my family remains safe.
The door leads into a large room. There are scatterings of couches grouped together in a way designed to encourage socializing and in between those spaces are all manner of kinky equipment. Spanking benches. Suspension racks. St. Andrew’s Crosses. Things I recognize from my internet searches, but can’t remember the names of off the top of my head.
“Eyes forward, Isabelle.”
I snap my gaze to Gaeton’s back and, just as quickly, ignore the command. There is a man with medium-brown skin flogging a plus-sized white woman while another man kneels between her spread thighs, his face buried in her pussy. My skin goes hot and tight at the sight, and then goes even hotter when I recognize her. It’s Tink, my clothing designer and now the wife to Hook, one of the other territory leaders. Now that I recognize her, I realize I recognize him, too. Oh gods. She’s completely helpless, completely on display. Even as part of me cringes at the vulnerability, a small corner of my mind it writhing in jealousy of her experience.