Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
“Maine,” he whispers back, groaning with reluctance as he sets me down in the locker room and crosses to his locker, removing his chef’s coat. Tying on his cap. All the while, he watches me put on my apron and secure my hair up in a ponytail. “I love you,” he says, coming over to kiss my shoulder when we’re both ready to work. “I’ll signal you when it’s time to meet in the pantry.”
My cheeks warm significantly. “I’ll look forward to it.”
With a quick squeeze of my backside, Draven heads toward the kitchen and I follow, taking my position at the garnishing station. Normally, this would be something Draven does before sending dishes out to the dining room—and I know, because I moon over the man while he’s working. Garnishing is my job now, however, and none of the kitchen staff question the switch. They simply nod at me and await Draven’s instructions for the day.
“Before we get going,” Draven says, addressing the crew, “I would like to re-introduce Claire as my wife. We were married yesterday afternoon.”
A chorus of gasps go up, followed by a small round of applause.
“If you’re all wondering why I’m suddenly a bearable human being, look no further.” Draven regards me with so much love in his expression, my sight blurs. “It’s all her.” He swallows hard and drags his attention off me, clapping once. “Now. Onto the day’s menu…”
Feeling safe and adored, I pick up a knife and prep little springs of rosemary. I pluck petals off edible purple flowers and store them in a plastic containers, ready for service. Around the time I finish prepping, Draven nods at me on his way into the pantry and I follow, my heartrate kicking into a gallop.
His mouth meets mine before I’ve fully crossed the threshold and a ripple of laughter goes through the kitchen. Draven cuts off the sound when he backs me into the door, closing it. My head drops back on a moan when he delves his fingers into my panties and takes what he needs for our sauce, finishing me easily with concentrated rubs of my clit, leaving the pantry minutes later with wet fingers hidden at his side and a look of pure obsession on his face.
I leave the small room after him, already counting the minutes until he can unleash that obsession on me later. At home. Our plan for the evening is to lie in bed after we make love and shop online for some new clothes for me. Already, I’m excited for the flirty disagreements we’re going to have about appropriate attire. He’s already threatened to put me in demure dresses and button-up blouses, but that is so not happening.
And I know exactly how I’m going to get my way.
On my way back to the garnish station, I realize my hair tie is broken, leaving my hair loose. Draven must have accidentally broken the black band with his fingers when they tunneled through my hair. Thankfully, I have another one in my locker.
I go there now, walking into the employee changing area, surprised to find it so dark.
Who turned off the light—
A cloth claps over my mouth, a noxious taste invading my throat. My nose.
Eyes burning, I struggle, but a lethargy has already begun to steal over me.
“I knew the miracle sauce had something to do with you,” Pierre sneers in my ear. “Did you think no one would notice your little rendezvous every time Draven makes the stuff? How are you doctoring it? What in the hell are you putting into it?”
“Nothing,” I slur.
Danger. I’m in danger.
But my limbs are slackening, my thoughts muddling together.
“It’s your pussy, isn’t it? You’ve got a little goldmine between your thighs, don’t you?”
“No,” I gasp, losing my balance and dropping, cringing when Pierre catches me beneath the armpits. I don’t want him touching me. “N-no…”
“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” he growls, dragging me toward the back door. Toward the parking lot. No. Draven, help. “I already got my mother out of the way years ago so I wouldn’t have to divide the profits three ways. If I’m willing to do that, do you think I’d let two fuckers take the secret recipe and leave me behind? Hell no. You’ve got another think coming.”
Oh my God.
Pierre set the fire that killed his mother?
It was never Draven.
Later. I’ll tell him later. Right now, I have to focus on surviving.
After Pierre’s phone call with Draven yesterday, Pierre must have seen the writing on the wall and known he could no longer keep Draven under his thumb. That he could no longer control his brother with unfounded guilt over his mother’s death. Now, he’s panicking. Acting irrationally.
What is he going to do with me?
I’m thrown down onto the asphalt beside a white van and I’m just about to lose consciousness when Pierre rolls open the door. There is a man I vaguely recognize sitting in the driver’s seat. Is he one of the waiters? I don’t have time to place him before Pierre picks me up and heaves me into the van, my body landing in a loud thud on the floor. “My associate is going to bring you somewhere safe. I’ll be by to collect some of that special ingredient later.” He leers at the juncture of my thighs, and my stomach roils. “My brother thinks he’s going to take the golden goose and run? Oh no. You’re mine now, Claire.”