The smell of delicious food roused me from my drug-coma, fluttering my eyes back to the world of the living.

The moment I woke, I wanted to descend back into the fog-filled abyss I’d lived in since Leather Jacket made promises that made me want to slit my wrists and paint my cell red.

“Hello, girl. How pleasant to see you again.”

The man who ran the operation—the same one who ordered me to be drugged and stuffed on a plane bound for Paris—sat on the edge of my pallet. His sky blue eyes, so like Brax’s, reminded me how drastically my life had changed. His perfect clothes and blond shaggy hair looked as if he’d stepped from an Aussie beach and needed a surfboard under his arm.

“Here, let me help you up.” His hands scooped under my arm, levering me into a slouch. I wiped away drool from the corner of my mouth as fumbling life came back into my body.

My eyes latched onto the platter of chicken, vegetables, and bread. Gone was the ability to think. My stomach roared and stabbed with a thousand desperately hungry knifes.

White Man chuckled, nodding. “That’s for you. If you do what I say.”

Shit. What the hell did he want? What more could I give?

“Esclave, don’t give up. Stay alive. For me.”

Tears pressed and every regret I felt for pushing Q too far choked me. I should never have made him come that morning. I should’ve thanked him for every bit of attention and fair treatment he gave me. Why would he come for someone who promised to make his life hell so she could own him?

Why did you push him away?

My mind couldn’t focus anymore—everything was upside down, back to front.

Suddenly, no matter how hungry I was, I couldn’t stand the thought of eating. My heart was empty; my stomach should be, too.

White Man ran a fingertip along the back of my hand. “Stop thinking. It gets easier if you let the drugs take you.”

A loud cough stole my oxygen, racking my body with barks. Once the spell was over, I looked up with watery eyes, begging him to let me go. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He stiffened, and shadows lined his face. “You didn’t do what I wanted the first time. I must say, I’ve never had a client demand us to collect his purchase before. I almost didn’t agree—after all, it’s not my business once monies have been exchanged—but the Red Wolverine had a very valid point.”

I gulped, hanging my head. What did I do wrong as a slave? I fell for my master. I taught him that two people could be perfect for each other. What was so wrong about that?

White Man continued. “I grow rather close to the clients who buy merchandise from me. So you can imagine I want to maintain a happy relationship with them. This particular buyer sent us to collect you for a rather unforgivable reason.”

He stopped, buffing his fingernails on his trousers. “Do you want to know what you did wrong?” Not waiting for my reply, he carried on, “He bartered you for a business transaction. That same business transaction met with…difficulties.” He laughed. “Of course, it does help that he paid double what you cost with strict orders to ruin you.”

My eyes shot to his, trying to unscramble the mess of sentences. Drugs clouded me, leaving me in a stark reality where I could only hope death was short and fast.

As a last resort, I asked, “How much did I cost? I’ll buy myself. You’re a businessman, let me make it worth your while.”

Q would give me the money. I had no doubt about that.

White Man stood, throwing his head back in mirth. “You’re worth more to me than money now, girl. You see, my orders are simple.” His eyes narrowed and all humanity dissolved—I stared into a killer’s soul. “You are to be unrepairable. And after your little stay with us before, I know your strength lies in your mind. You won’t be broken by physical abuse—your key to breaking is something harder. Something I haven’t come across, but I’m looking forward to seeing put into action.”

He leaned down, eyes looking deep into mine. His cologne gagged me with its cloying, syrupy stench. His blue gaze ripped me into bleeding pieces. “You will work for me. You will do what I say, when I say it. You will beat other women. You will hurt them so f**king bad their minds will shatter and you’ll wear their lives on your soul. If you don’t do what I tell you, I’ll kill them to make you obey.” He grabbed my chin; his Mediterranean accent snapped every word into violent shards. “Do you understand?”

I understood. I understood that I would become well and truly deformed as a human being. I would be made to abuse other women in order to keep them alive.

No.

I wrenched my face out of his iron grip, glaring. “I’ll give you a million dollars to release me. Give me access to a phone and the money can be in your account tonight.”

And then Q will rip your intestines from your stomach and burn you alive, you bastard.

He stood, smoothing his black shirt and jeans. “You’re a fighter to the end. I respect that. But the next time I see you, if you speak back, you’ll regret it.”

I had every intention of fighting back. I would make them hurt me. I would never be responsible for another woman’s spiral into madness.

“You’re worth more than dollar signs now, girl. Better get used to taking orders.”

He pushed the plate of food toward me before striding toward the door. “Enjoy your last meal as a free woman. Tomorrow you belong to me, and you’ll have a full day’s work ahead of you.”

The door slammed behind him, resonating in my barren cell. The fever roared in my blood, making me weak and terrified.

I was no longer merchandise. I was an employee.

Chapter 9

I can’t contain him, you set me free. This isn’t a role I play, the monster is me…

“Anything?” I demanded as Frederick hung up the phone.

“Nothing. He says he’s been banned from their operation for months, ever since he won a knife fight and killed one of the Wolverine’s guards.”

I stared at the ceiling, struggling with my anger. The rage bubbled in my blood, never granting peace. All I wanted to do was tear through the globe and kill anyone who stood in my way. I wanted goddamn answers. I wanted a victim I could string up and torture names from. But nothing.

Fucking nothing in two long days.

Two long f**king days where I turned my entire book of contacts upside down, and nothing. I harassed, I cursed, I pleaded, I threatened. Every single trafficker, every single man I’d ever accepted a bribe from and not one of them knew a f**king thing.

Tess had vanished. No one knew anything. No one would talk.

“Try harder, Roux. We’re running out of time.”

Frederick scowled, tapping the phone in his hand. “I know you won’t rest until you find her, man, but you’ve been awake for forty-eight hours. You barely survived a migraine that kicked your ass, and your blood pressure is through the roof.”

I stopped rifling through some old transaction files. I wanted to rip his f**king head off for suggesting I sleep. As if that was an option when Tess could be God knows where, dealing with f**k knows what. “I’m not wasting energy telling you to piss off, Roux.” I waved angrily. “Go and help Franco. Be useful or leave. I have shit to do.”

I didn’t have time for anything but searching. I ran purely on vengeance and the need to kill.

I’d never had people in this space before, but now I didn’t give a shit about having a private zone. All I cared about was finding Tess.

If it meant I had to demolish every building I owned to do so, then so be it.

Standing abruptly, I grabbed the stack of files from my desk and strode into the bedroom.

For two days I hadn’t left my office. The rooms were a mess with strewn paper and scribbled notes. I had a small army of people in the lounge, overseen by Franco. The moment we looked at the security footage and saw how two black-haired men bypassed the coding on the lift, we knew it had to be a trafficker with money. They’d had the password—only someone with a substantial bank balance and knowledge of how I worked could figure it out—or buy it.

They strolled in, bold as f**king day, and took an unconscious Tess to the basement level where another accomplice had been waiting.

The only people who had security clearance on my private lift were head of cleaning and head of building security. Both were being interrogated right now. I didn’t f**king go to all the trouble to keep my office out of bounds for the fail safes not to protect it.

And the bitch was, I knew who would’ve bribed or tortured to get the passkey, but I daren’t move until I had proof Tess was there. If I was wrong the entire company would come crashing down. The real kicker was I didn’t care about the company, but I did care about the women who hid in its protection.

“Fuck.”

I slapped my cheeks, trying to stay alert. It was hard fighting through the sludge. The residual brain-crushing pain of my migraine had stolen more from me than just coherent thought and vision.

It stole time.

For twelve hours, I was useless. Finding Tess’s hair ripped out on the bathroom floor with the syringe had been the final bullet, and I’d blacked out.

My body had reached its limit—turns out I wasn’t invincible after all—and if it hadn’t been for Frederick, I would’ve lost the plot entirely. I vibrated with loathing; I ached with the strength of a thousand beasts to cover my hands in blood.

I needed to make the cocksuckers pay; I’d never rest until I did. But the headache cursed me to be a useless invalid, hogtying me to a long-suffering sentence.

I physically hit a f**king wall. And it gutted me.

Frederick organised the team to help search. He ordered Franco to arrange his top men to leave at a moment’s notice. He made a thousand calls, sent a hundred emails, all the while I lay dead in the dark.

My vision completely deserted me, and I was sensible enough to know I was a hindrance, not a help. But it still f**king hurt to stay out of their way, concentrating on myself rather than Tess. It was wrong, and I cursed the weakness in my blood.

I let Tess down. I left my woman to suffer at the hands of bastards all while I huddled in a f**king corner and popped painkillers like Tic-Tacs.

It wasn’t until Frederick snuck a sleeping tablet into a handful of codeine that I fell asleep, and the migraine lost its power over me.

But the sleep wasn’t restful; it robbed the rest of my sanity.

Images of blood and broken bones and Tess screaming ceaselessly for my help. Her voice stabbed my heart over and over, full of accusation for letting this happen to her.

The moment I woke, I’d thrown myself headlong into tracking down the cunts who took her. But I hadn’t stopped to use my useless brain.

Breathing hard, I perched on the end of the bed and fanned out the files. Now that I had no one prying down my neck, I opened the paperwork that might hold some clues to finding her.

The records on all the girls I saved.

Tess’s details were at the back and I cracked the folder open.

Subject: Blonde Girl on Scooter

Barcode reference: 302493528752445

Age: Twenty to thirty

Temperament: Angry and violent

Sexual status: Not virgin

Sexual heath: No diseases

Ownership guidelines: Recommend strict punishment to break temper. Trim body, fit enough for extreme activities.

History: No living relatives

My eyes fell to the number. I’d tried to track Tess using the device when I sent her back to Australia, but it didn’t work. I always thought she removed it when she went home to Brax. I’d been pissed and proud at her for cutting it out because it meant she was safe even though I couldn’t spy on her whereabouts.

Try it anyway. You ever know.

My mind spooled back to letting Tess go. My sacrifice hadn’t been voluntary. I wanted to keep her forever, but I didn’t want to crush her. Tess was my phenomenon. The once in a lifetime dream that I never thought I’d get. And I’ve f**ked it up.

Motherfucker, screw it. I wouldn’t sit here holding my c**k while the Red Wolverine had Tess. He’d left his note—deliberately to get me to hunt him. If it was a trap, I didn’t care anymore. No one was more important than Tess.

Grabbing the spare laptop I kept in the bedside table, I called up the program associated with the tracking number and entered in the code. It was a waste of time, but I had to check.

The connection took a while, and I placed my hand on the lid to close it. See, she did remove it.

Then a small map appeared, followed by zooming in, faster and faster until it zeroed in on the one country I’d suspected and hoped to avoid.

Intense anger throttled my limbs. I wanted to howl. A month she’d been back in Australia. A full f**king month and she didn’t remove it? What a moron. An idiot. Did she enjoy playing roulette with her life?

I wanted to kill her for being so stupid. She gave them the perfect way to find her!

When I get my hands on her, by God I’ll make her pay.

If she’d been standing in front of me, I would’ve cut it out myself and wrung her neck for being so stupid.

At least I now had proof.

The Red Wolverine had her—it was undeniable.

I wanted to ruin him. I wanted to take away his business, his money, his very flesh and blood. And only when he had absolutely nothing would I torture him until he begged me to kill him.

That’s how much I hated Gerald’s guts.

Tess was in Russia.

“Frederick, get your ass in here!”

Footsteps charged down the corridor, soft on the carpet. “What is it? What’d you find?”

I threw the laptop to the side. “I’ve confirmed he has her in Russia. We’re leaving.” I brushed past him, but he stopped me.