Page 19 of Savage Little Secret

“Brendan. Wake up,” I say as I enter the room.

He doesn’t respond.

“Get up!” I snap as I shove Brendan’s shoulder. His head lolls back down into place. For one split second, I think I killed him.

I press my fingers against his pulse point and feel a slow but steady thumping. “He’s still breathing.”

“I think you beat him so badly that he’s having a hard time coming back into consciousness, boss. Might have to check back in on him later,” Isaak tells me from the hallway.

I don’t remember dealing that much damage, but so much for questioning him again today.

Frustration ebbs through me as I turn away from Brendan, grinding my teeth. “Keep an eye on him. Make sure that he doesn’t bleed out and die, or we’ll have to go capture another of the Irish.”

“Why not question Cara?” Isaak asks.

“Because I need corroboration. I can’t trust a word out of her mouth,” I tell him before holding up a hand. “And I know I shouldn’t have in the first place. I don’t need everyone to keep telling me that shit over and over again.”

Isaak nods. “I’ll keep an eye on the Irish bastard.”

My shoulders relax a little, the exhaustion starting to hit me. This has been the day from hell. I don’t know what to do next, but everyone is looking to me for guidance.

One enemy is outside our walls.

One is inside my penthouse.

And I’m the man who has to decide which one dies first.

7

Cara

The light dims beyond the window, and the room feels smaller with it.

I really fucked up.

But how could I have predicted this?

At the beginning, all I cared about was trying to prove myself so that I would be treated as more than nothing by my own father, and so I wouldn’t be handed to the highest bidder.

Now, I know that he’ll always see me as a disappointment. There’s no point in trying to please him any longer.

Even after everything he’s said, my stupid heart still reaches for him.

The dried tracks on my cheeks itch. My skin feels tight. I don’t know how long I’m going to be stuck in here for, but I’m not going to ask Dmitri. The last thing I need to do is piss him off more.

I just need him to hear me out so I can make him understand why I did what I did. How I felt forced and scared for my life. He has no idea what kind of relationship I have with my father.

He barely knows anything, and I guess that’s part of the problem. I didn’t let him get to know me, even if I couldn’t, and that hurt him.

The front door opens. Closes.

My pulse jumps like it’s trying to climb out of my throat.

The bedroom door swings open, and Dmitri steps inside and flicks on the light, illuminating the previously dark room. He tosses a bottle of water and a fast-food burger onto the bed like he’s feeding a stray.

“Tell me when you need to use the bathroom.”

My eyes remain glued to him as he walks over to the curtains to pull them shut. “Where were you?”