Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
God, yes. I’d recognize my own wife anywhere.
“Last chance to stay home,” I say instead, swallowing against the internal battle I’m waging.
“Not happening. We’re doing this together, remember? Or we’re not doing it at all.”
My hands ball into fists. This is so much more difficult than I thought it would be. I want to keep Caroline safe, but my hatred of her brothers is very, very old. I’ve been living with that driving force since I was a little kid. Since they gave me these scars. Since they broke me, battered me, embarrassed me, and nearly killed me. My hate is an inferno, burning away all reason.
“Together then.” I turn away. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through tonight. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
15
CAROLINE
Ifeel sick. My hands are shaking. The wine I’m carrying is going to spill all over the place, and if that happens, I’m screwed. This is the most expensive and important bottle I’ve ever touched in my life.
I want to dump it on the expensive carpet.
Other girls pass me. None pay me any mind. We’re all dressed alike: dark, tight dresses, hair done up, masks sparkling in the low lighting. Finn was smart about that, at least. Otherwise, Shane would spot me a mile away, even with all this hooker makeup.
I hear groans from nearby, laughter from another room, a moan through a wall. One of the girls yawns as she walks by. “Skip room six,” she advises. “That guy’s a pisser.”
I don’t bother asking what she means. I can guess.
I continue on, turn the corner, and slow as I approach a door with a gold 12 nailed to the front.
“You doing okay?” Finn’s voice is a soft whisper in my ear.
I touch the radio. It’s a tiny piece covered by my hair. “Just fine. I’m at the door.”
“Leave your end on transmit. I’m right across the hall. The second you say my name, I’ll be in there. Understand?”
I nod to myself before realizing he can’t see me. “Got it. It won’t be long.”
“Be careful, Caroline. Don’t let him touch you. Don’t let him see your face. Pour the wine and make sure he drinks, but don’t you drink any yourself. Then call me right away once he has it.”
“I know the plan.”
“You can do this. Just be careful.”
I take a deep breath. He’s right. I can handle this. It’s not even that hard: pour the wine, hand it over, and let nature do the rest. Shane’s never seen a drink he didn’t like, or a girl he didn’t want to fuck.
I can’t count how many times my brothers have had to drag Shane’s wasted ass from a brothel just like this one over the years. I almost didn’t believe it when Finn told me how easy it was to get him here. This place is owned by a Whelan-affiliated family, one that doesn’t ask questions and won’t mind a body on their premises. Finn used a very convincing AI bot to send Shane an invitation via private direct messaging and set their date for tonight.
I knock lightly like I saw the other girls doing and open the door. Inside looks like a very nice hotel room. I find my brother sitting in a high-backed leather chair beside a table, a bottle of whiskey at his elbow, a glass in his hand, and my heart starts racing.
Oh, shit. He already has a drink.
Shane’s expression brightens when he spots me. His eyes roam my body and I feel fucking sick. He’s looking at me with a sexual hunger and I want to scream. I knew this was going to be hard, but actually being in the room with him is totally disturbing. His shirt’s unbuttoned halfway down his chest and his sleeves are rolled up. He seems at ease, but heightened.
“Hello, darling. I’m Shane. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Darya,” I say, changing my voice the best I can, softening it and faking a really bad Russian accent. I hesitate, holding the bottle. Shane’s eyebrows raise. “Drink?”
“I’m good there.” He sips his whiskey. “You brought that all for me? What a nice girl. You are a nice girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, for you.” I start to open it with trembling hands. Shane watches, amused, as I struggle with the cork.
“Ah, let me.” He stands and comes over. My skin crawls as he touches my lower back. His hands inch toward my ass and he palms it, squeezing.
I back away quickly.
“Yes, thank you,” I say, trying not to let him hear the tremble in my voice. Oh, god, my brother just grabbed my ass. This is so fucked up.
“You’re a skittish one. Are you new at this, Darya? Don’t worry if you are. I’ve done this many times before.” He gets the cork out with a satisfying pop. “There we go. I’ll let this breathe. How about we drink it after we’re done? I’ll toast to you after I’ve filled you up.”