It’ll serve her well.
All three turn to watch me enter.
I should keep my eyes on Dakota, but I can’t help but study Roman’s face for signs of how he feels after last night.
My plan to forget all about it, all the ways I thrilled at his words, his touch, the way he hunted me in the dark. It all goes out the window as soon as his blue eyes meet mine.
And then they soften.
Not the eyes of a monster. Not this time.
He gives me a subtle nod, like we’re co-conspirators. Like I’m his.
Static lingers in the air between us, and I wonder how obvious it is to Rosa and Dakota.
Rosa’s expression is sour. So, maybeveryobvious.
If even a flicker of what I’m feeling shows on my face, I’m fucked. I might as well tattooOwned by Romanon my forehead.
“When I claim you.” That’s what he’d said. Right before he told me I could come.
Like my orgasm was his to grant.
Because he’s not wrong. No matter how much you might wish he were, he isn’t. You’ve never been more satisfied in your life. It’s very possible that you’ve never even been alive until now.
Later. I’ll wrestle with it later.
Right now, the bite on my shoulder pulses like a low-voltage hum. Not painful. Not quite. It feels like… possession.
I ignore it. Ignore the tremble in my gut, the heat crawling up my spine.
Focus on the girl. The victim. The reason we’re here.
“Good morning,” I say. None of them return my greeting, but I didn’t expect them to. This isn’t a household that concerns itself with pleasantries, I’m sure. “Have we learned anything?”
“Dakota gave us several names,” Roman's voice rings out, steady as stone. “Men connected to the auction. Some of them are new players.”
Hemustbe doing a better job than I am at not thinking about last night, a fact which oddly hurts my feelings.
It’s not every day you chase a NYPD detective through your mansion and then use a knife handle to fuck her, is it?
God, I fucking hope not.
Get your head back!
The pause after Roman spoke has gone on too long, and I feel my heartbeat quicken.
Ok, new names. Information we didn’t have. It’s a thread worth pulling, a lifeline.
“We can use that,” I say, turning to the girl. Her arms are folded tight across her chest, gaze downcast, like the weight of everything is finally pressing in. I reach over and place a hand gently on her shoulder, gratified when she doesn’t flinch away. “That’s good. You did good, Dakota.”
When I glance back at Roman and Rosa, I’m already shifting into motion. “So what’s next? We need to get her somewhere safe. Immediately.”
A low rumble escapes Roman, like distant thunder, “She’ll be safe here for now. She needs to get her strength back. We’ll make sure she?—”
“I’m right here,” Dakota snaps, knocking my hand away. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not.”
Her voice is sharp, eyes blazing again. Good. Fire is better than fear.
