Buttons & Lace Page 8

  Beautiful women came and went. I’d seen my share of them. I’d fucked my share of them. There was no such thing as a woman so beautiful she would be worth that kind of cash. Perhaps I was just a hard man to impress, but I wasn’t mesmerized easily. My heart was made of stone, and it only beat to keep my blood circulating. Even in the throes of passion, my heart beat dangerously slow. My body wasn’t interested in love. It was hardly interested in sex. I was only interested in destruction. “I’m sure she’s nothing remarkable.”

  “Well, there must be something remarkable about her,” he said. “Even a rich man like Bones hoards his money. He wouldn’t shell out that kind of cash unless he had a good reason.”

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” It didn’t matter what Bones’s opinion was. We were both evil—but in vastly different ways. Just because he thought this woman was worth something didn’t mean I would agree.

  “I think we should get a peek ourselves.”

  My brother’s fascination with beautiful women was irritating. His hard cock in his trousers constantly drove him forward. I kept my thoughts to myself, guarding my privacy like it was a treasure full of gold. In my line of business, there was no room for feelings or attachment. When I cared about someone, they usually wound up dead. “I couldn’t care less what this woman looks like.” Pretty or hideous, it didn’t make a difference to me.

  “I want to see them together,” Cane said. “See how he treats her. That should give us a clue to how he feels about her.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea, actually. If she were just another slave, she wouldn’t be there at all. Would she sit beside him like a person? Or would she bow on her knees the entire time, showing off her obedience? Would she fetch him drinks all night? Why would he bring her when he could have one of his many servants serve him? The questions were gnawing at me from the inside out. “Where are they sitting?”

  “Left balcony.” He read off his notes. “It’s private, so even better.”

  “Is he registered under a pseudonym?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then he won’t suspect us.” We could just send one of our men to take care of this, but Cane and I were personally invested in this endeavor. We needed to see Bones in action with our own eyes. We needed to see everything. We were the only ones who could make the right call.

  “Nope. That fucker won’t have a clue.”

  Chapter Ten

  Pearl

  “We’re going to the opera tonight.” Bones opened the closet to reveal the gorgeous gown I was supposed to wear. “After dinner, we’ll head over there. They’re performing one of my favorite productions.”

  I got to go outside again.

  I couldn’t believe my luck.

  I got to leave this stuffy mansion, with its boring pale walls and lack of decoration. The carpet wasn’t soft under my bare feet. It was thin and cheap. I’d get to be around other people, listen to them speak Italian—one of the most beautiful languages I’d ever heard. Maybe I could tell someone I’d been kidnapped. Maybe I could ask for help. What if there were police there? Could I make a run for it? “I’ve never been to the opera.”

  “You’ll love it. Very tasteful.” Despite his rugged physicality and sick ways, he had a cultured side. He shot someone in the head last week, and now he wanted to listen to a woman sing.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” I kept up my façade, pretending to tolerate him but still maintaining my feistiness at the same time. He loved the fire within me. He loved to be the one to blow out my flame.

  “I want to show you off to the world. You’ll make even the Italian women here look ordinary.”

  It was the first time he’d given me a compliment—and not about my cunt or tits. It was almost sweet, in a twisted way. He wanted to show off his slave to the other aristocrats of society. But he probably wanted to pretend I was his willing date—not a captive. “I don’t know about that...but thanks.”

  “Get dressed and we’ll go.” He marched out of my bedroom, which still didn’t have a door.

  “Okay.” It hurt my mouth to agree with him, even if he didn’t command me to do anything. But it scarred me to act as his plaything, to do his bidding, even if it was part of my plan.

  I had to swallow my annoyance and keep going. When I got to the opera, I would figure out a way to get free. I would figure out a way to run. All I had to do was focus on that to hold my tongue. Telling him what he wanted to hear and pretending to respect him was going to save my life.

  I could keep doing it.

  ***

  We arrived at the opera and were escorted to a private balcony. No one else was there besides the two of us, and a butler stood in the back, ready to get us anything Bones asked for.

  I surveyed the people in the audience, looking at all the women in their gowns and the men in their tuxes. The collective conversations filled the auditorium, a few laughs bouncing off the walls. I concentrated on the sounds of their voices, on the accent of their Italian words. I’d never heard a more beautiful language. The only foreign language I heard in the United States was Spanish. While Italian was similar, it had its own unique qualities.

  Bones turned to me, watching my expression. I wore a diamond necklace he gave me, along with a teal gown that complemented my fair skin and dark hair. It was long and made of satin, feeling soft against my legs. “What are you thinking?”

  I kept my eyes on the room, looking at the sea of people. “I’m listening to them.”

  “Why?”

  “I love the way their accents sound. I love listening to the language.”

  He switched from English to Italian, saying something to me I didn’t understand.

  I stared at him blankly, unsure what he was trying to say.

  When he saw the confusion in my eyes, he switched back to English. “I can teach you, if you like.”

  It was hard to believe he could be so refined after the harsh things he did to me. All week, he took me in the evening. He still hit me, smacking my ass to get off, but he didn’t make me bleed like he used to. He still fucked me in the ass because he knew I hated it. He did unforgivable things, but they were never as bad as they were before. And when Alfonso came by the house for business, Bones refused to share me again.

  I was most grateful for that.

  This plan was working. Even if I couldn’t escape, at least my situation was better than it was before.

  He continued to stare at me, waiting for a response.

  I finally found the words. “I would love that. I would love to understand what people are saying.”

  “The language is more beautiful when you don’t understand what people are saying,” he said with a chuckle. “English, Italian, French...it doesn’t matter. All people talk about the same things. They’re all evil.”

  He was one to talk.

  A butler approached us with one hand behind his back. “Wine? Champagne?”

  I was never allowed to order for myself. Bones took care of everything. “We’ll have two glasses of wine. Nothing from the Barsetti vineyards.” His voice turned cruel when he said that last part. “Red.”

  “Yes, sir.” The servant disappeared behind the curtain and retrieved the drinks. He was back a moment later, pouring an Italian bottle for the two of us to share. “Anything else, sir?”

  “No.” Bones waved him off with the brush of a hand.

  The servant left without another word.

  I grabbed the glass and took a drink, needing alcohol to steel my nerves. I had to figure out a way to slip out of there. If I could leave his side for just a moment, I might find a way to escape. But I couldn’t rush it. I had to be patient. “Why don’t you like the Barsetti vineyards?”

  “Because it’s horse piss.” He threatened me with just his tone, recoiling at the subject. “Now shut up and drink your wine.”

  I tried not to flinch at his hostility and kept my gaze down. I’d broached a subject he didn’t like to discuss, and I would lock that infor
mation away for another time.

  It might be useful.

  Chapter Eleven

  Crow

  “The lights are off, and the curtain just opened.” Cane peeked through the small divider in the ceiling. “We’re good to go.”

  I pulled the panel and slid it across the rest of the ventilation duct, opening a foot of space. We looked directly over the people in the audience, on the left-hand side of the stage. The opera singer’s loud voice echoed right in the passage, making our ears ring.

  “She sounds like shit,” Cane said. “I don’t get opera.”

  I liked it. If I didn’t hate people so much, I would go more often. “Shut up, and let’s do this.”

  He pulled out the extender with the camera at the end. He dangled it outside the panel, over the crowd but flush to the ceiling so no one would notice.

  I pulled out my phone and checked the screen, seeing the feed from the camera in real time. “More to the right.”

  Cane hit the buttons on the extender, adjusting the camera.

  “Zoom in.”

  He focused the lens, capturing the balcony where Bones and his date sat.

  “A little more to the right.”

  He growled under his breath and made the adjustments. “It’s good, right?”

  I changed the light settings on the screen so the picture was a better quality. When I got them both in the frame, I froze. I hadn’t seen Bones since that evening, and when I looked at him, I was reminded of the rage bottled deep inside me. I pictured how he pulled that pistol out of his jacket and shot Vanessa right in the back of the head.

  My hands shook.

  “It’s good?” Cane repeated.

  My eyes shifted to the woman beside him. In a teal gown, handmade by a designer himself, it fit her slim body like it was made just for her. She had petite, rounded shoulders and arms that were thin but toned. She did some kind of activity in her spare time, archery or mountain climbing. The balcony enclosure hid most of her lower body from view.

  My eyes moved to her thin neck. In the hollow of her throat was a huge diamond on a white gold necklace. It was too lavish and expensive to be something she’d bought herself. It was a gift. And Bones didn’t give gifts to his slaves—he took them.

  I looked at her face, seeing blue eyes that lacked any interest in what she was looking at. Her mind was elsewhere, thinking about something in a different world. Her lips were ruby red from the lipstick she wore, and her eyes glowed from the makeup. Her hair was in lustrous curls, framing the contours of her expressive face. She was just as beautiful as people claimed.

  But I still wasn’t impressed.

  “Crow!”

  “What?” I turned on him, annoyed with the outburst. “Shut the fuck up or someone will hear us.”

  “Is the camera good or what? I’ve asked you twice now.”

  “It’s fine. Here.” I handed my phone to him.

  He held the extender with a single hand and my phone in the other. He whistled to himself just as he did last week.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Damn, she’s fine.”

  I looked down at the stage and saw the singer belt her tunes out, her chest expanding with every note she hit. The music was sad. I could understand every word she said, and the song echoed with pain of love and loss. I knew that feeling all too well.

  “I’m going to have a lot of fun with her. She’s going to suck my dick so hard she’ll choke.”

  I grabbed the phone again. “Let’s think about that later. We haven’t decided if she means anything to him just yet.”

  “Do you see that fucking diamond around her throat?” he demanded. “That shit was on the Titanic before it sank.”

  “But they aren’t touching.”

  “What does that matter?” he asked. “They’re together on a date. We know what he does with slaves. He doesn’t take them out for a night on the town. And he’s clearly not afraid of her running.”

  I watched her chest rise and fall with an invisible weight. Her eyes were glued to the stage, but she didn’t seem to be watching it. Without knowing her, I could tell what she was thinking. Her lips were parted for a reason. “She’s thinking about running right now.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  I tapped my fingers against the screen. “Her face is flushed, her breathing is shallow—all the signs are there. She’s nervous. She’s scared.”

  “Maybe she’s just scared because a psychopath is sitting next to her.”

  “No. She’s going for it.”

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea... He has guards outside the place. When he catches her, he might kill her. My advice is for her to sit tight until we get her out of there.”

  “Like she’ll be better off with us.”

  He shrugged. “At least we’re good-looking. She might not mind sucking our fat cocks.”

  I eyed the time on my watch. “I’m going to hang in the lobby just in case she goes for it.”

  “And what are you going to say?” he asked incredulously.

  “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. Hang tight, and let me know when she makes her move.”

  “How are you so certain that she’ll do anything?”

  I scooted backward through the air duct. “I’m good at reading people.”

  “Is that why you hate them so much? You can read their minds?” He chuckled like it was a joke.

  Actually, he hit the nail right on the head. “Just keep me posted.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Pearl

  I stared at the bright stage and saw the dancers move around, giving the kind of performance I never thought I’d have the privilege of seeing. The auditorium was ancient like the rest of Italy, full of history’s past. The frescoes on the ceiling could only be created by a genius, and the intricate pattern of the carpet made me feel honored just to walk on it.

  But all I wanted to do was run away.

  The show was halfway over, and I’d wasted all that time sitting there. If I excused myself to the bathroom, I could crawl out the window. I couldn’t go through the entrance because he probably had men watching the place. But if I slipped out some other way, I’d probably be able to run somewhere.

  I was pretty fast.

  But I was terrified. I was afraid to risk our tame relationship if I failed. He would turn on me and be more ruthless than ever before. He might even kill me, angered that he trusted me on some level and I betrayed him. Was the chance really worth it? What if he was testing me? Expecting me to run?

  I couldn’t make a decision.

  I didn’t know what to do.

  My heart slammed in my chest, and my palms were sweaty. My throat was dry, and it was painful to swallow. I didn’t touch my wine because I couldn’t keep anything down. Bones was absorbed in the show, ignorant to the argument I was having with myself.

  If I went home with him tonight, I’d have to get underneath him. He would shove a dildo up my ass then fuck my pussy. He would probably gag me so my cries were muffled. He wouldn’t use lubrication, just to hurt me. The only way to avoid it was for me to rub my clit and try to think of sexy things, to think about Jacob when the sex was good. Then his cock wouldn’t hurt so much, but he’d assume I was wet for him—when I was just repulsed.

  I couldn’t go back to that.

  I didn’t want to.

  I had to get out of there—tonight.

  “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” I rose to my feet and waited for him to stop me. I expected him to grab my wrist and drag me back down.

  But he let me go.

  I walked away and felt my back muscles tense as I headed to the stairs. I wondered if he was watching me, looking at my ass shake in my gown. I wondered if he really trusted me.

  I didn’t have a chance to second-guess it. I kept going.

  I reached the end of the staircase and gave a quick sweep of the place. No one looked at me. No one paid attention to me. There didn’t seem to be any me
n hovering around—at least not the kind Bones employed.

  And that’s when I spotted the man by the bar.

  In a crisp dark suit, he leaned against the counter with one hand in his pocket. He wore a gray collared shirt underneath, along with a teal-colored tie. It had a pattern on it, but it was too intricate for me to determine. His black suit reminded me of the men who came to visit Bones. But that soothing tie was something none of the men would wear.

  At over six feet, he was a tall man. He had long legs with muscled thighs, and his shoulders were wide like the wingspan of an eagle. He had long fingers, masculine and strong. His body was lean and tight, compacted with muscle, skin, and tendons. He seemed athletic, the type of man who didn’t put on weight no matter how much scotch he drank.

  My eyes trailed up his neck, searching for danger in his look. He had a strong jaw, rugged and rigid. His five o’clock shadow looked scruffy. If I brushed my hand against it, I would feel the friction. His lips were interesting. They were thin and hard-pressed, making him appear distinctly dissatisfied by something.

  When I examined his face, I realized he was looking at me. He turned his moss-green eyes on me, examining me like he knew exactly who I was. His dark brown hair was short, carefully styled to make him look sleek and graceful. Despite how calm and suave he seemed, his eyes were unforgiving.

  He was beautiful.

  And terrifying.

  I turned my head, even though it was too late to act like I hadn’t seen him. He didn’t seem like he worked for Bones. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have his own evil agenda.

  Was anyone in this country a good person?

  I entered the bathroom and felt the door shut behind me. There were no feet under the stalls, and that’s when I realized I was alone.

  Alone.

  I did it. I made it. My hands shook in excitement. I forgot how to breathe because I could taste freedom on my tongue. My plan to trick Bones succeeded, and I was going to get away.

  I was going to make it.

  There was a window high above the sinks. It wasn’t wide, but it was long. If I could crawl up there and slide it open, I could squeeze through. It probably led to the ground above the auditorium. All I had to do was throw my heels aside and run.