“No. The rituals and Mark’s involvement have been kept under wraps. I’m not ready to expose that until I take them down. It’s something I’ve been handling mostly by myself.”
I nod, understanding the implication. Don’t tell Daya.
“So that’s why you’re under a different alias. Why not give me a different name?”
“Because you’re an average citizen and finding out who you really are would be so incredibly easy, it’s almost laughable. Me, on the other hand, not so much,” he answers, shooting another smirk my way.
Ugh. The arrogance.
His face turns serious. “This is why I didn’t want you involved. But I’m afraid Mark has already taken notice of you and I’d rather you be close to me. At least this way, I know you’re safe.”
I face him, eyeing him closely. He’s relaxed into his seat, his long legs spread, one hand draped over the wheel and the other resting on the armrest between us.
I force myself to focus and ignore the way my chest is clenching from just one look.
Just because the sun is pretty doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous to stare at, Addie.
"I believe that you'll protect me from Mark, but who's going to protect me from you?"
His gaze sweeps the entirety of my body, and his eyes blaze with possessiveness. “Whoever tries is going to end up dead.”
My eyes thin. “How can you work to save women while actively stalking another?” I challenge, cocking a brow.
He has the nerve to look amused. I have no idea what could possibly be so funny about stalking someone.
“I’ve never stalked anyone before you,” he says simply. “Not outside of my job, at least. Definitely not for romantic purposes.”
I give him a face, my expression full of incredulity.
“Is that supposed to make me feel special?”
A slow, wicked smirk glides across his face, unbothered by my increasingly burning stare. “I wouldn’t mind if it did.”
I want to slap him. But the asshole would probably like it, and then turn around and slap me back. And my dumbass self would probably like it, too.
I’m fucked in the head. And dealing with this man—I am beyond stressed. This just can’t be good for my skin.
Scoffing, I turn my head out the window and spend the rest of the car ride in tense silence. The atmosphere has only worsened, and I can’t tell if it’s because I now know he’s some vigilante, saving children and women from evil people, or if it’s because he confessed that he’s only ever turned into a psycho for me. Still, both prospects have shifted the way I look at him.
The latter shouldn’t by any means, considering he just lodged his dick down my throat while strangling me with a belt five minutes ago.
But it fucking does.
Chapter 24
The Manipulator
“I
s there anything I need to know before you bring me into the pit of snakes?” I ask as Zade drives up to the valet parking.
Valet parking at their own damn house. This shit should be illegal.
“In here, my name is Zack Forthright. I’m a self-made millionaire and have my own company for web design. We live in Parsons Manor together and are a happy couple, but I sneak around on you and go to gentlemen’s clubs without your knowledge.”
My eyes snap to his. He’s been going to gentlemen’s clubs? As in, the clubs that offer up women on a silver platter for men to get their rocks off to? Rich people gentlemen’s clubs at that—ones occupied by corrupt sadists. Who knows what happens in those places to those poor women?
Sensing my thoughts, he smirks. “Before you judge, I have not and will not ever indulge in what they offer there, and eventually, I’ll get all those girls out. But they don’t know that. Don’t be jealous, little mouse. No one will ever be capable of getting my cock hard except you.”
The heroism wars with his imprudent assumption. Part of me wants to melt, while the other stiffens into granite at being accused of such a thing.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not jealous,” I snipe. “And it sounds like you just have erectile dysfunction to me.”
He bites back a grin, a knowing look gleaming in his eyes. His voice deepens as he drawls lazily, “Keep it up, and you’ll be choking on those words when my cock is filling up your throat again. Everyone passing by will see me fucking your filthy little mouth, and there won’t be a single person in that house that won’t be aware of it by the time I’m done.”
I scoff, turning my head away from him. Only to hide the blush that I feel creeping up my cheeks and the sharp thrill chasing the nerves down my spine. I still feel the phantom bite of metal from his belt buckle around my neck, and I know with absolute certainty that Zade would follow through on his threat if I pushed.
Dickhead.
He continues as if he didn’t just serve me the most delicious threat I’ve ever heard. “Don’t speak of your personal life. Nothing that means anything to you anyways. You’re here to get information on Gigi, and that’s incentive enough.”
“Incentive?” I interrupt, whipping my head back towards him.
“You’re walking into the viper’s pit because Mark found something that you care about and is holding it over your head,” Zade explains plainly. I snap my mouth shut, contrite and a little worried.
“If he finds out anything else you care about, that will be something he’ll use to his advantage if he’s given the chance.”
My mouth falls back open. “But don’t worry,” he says, cutting in before I can demand that he take me home. “I’ll flay his skin from his body before he can even think to do anything to hurt you.”
With that, he opens the door, gets out and throws his keys at the waiting valet, shutting the door firmly and cutting off any questions I had on the tip of my tongue.
For starters, can I go home now?
I’m asking myself if solving Gigi’s murder is worth involving myself with dangerous people. But it’s too late. I’m here, and I’m bound and determined to get at least a few more of my questions answered before Zade takes me home.
I have the feeling that not only am I putting my safety in Zade’s hands tonight, but my life.
Because I’m walking into a house owned by an evil man, I don’t need Zade to spell that out for me.
Zade opens my door and holds out a hand for me to grab onto as I slide out of the car. Electricity explodes from where his hand grips mine, and all I really want to do is guide his hands to other parts of my body.
I suck in icy air, the cold offering a balm to my insides, and allowing me enough clarity to concentrate on everything else besides the domineering man beside me.
Mark’s house is ostentatious. A massive white monstrosity with five huge pillars and a million windows. In my opinion, the house is ugly, typical and downright boring.
The inside is even worse. I walk into a large, wide hallway with picture frames lining either side of the wall of who I assume is Mark’s family. My heels click against the ivory tile, and I can’t help but think it’s going to turn brown after all the shoes that’ll be treading across it.
We’re ushered by a butler down the hallway, past an all-white kitchen and into a ballroom.