by Ella Miles
“When do you leave?” I ask.
“Tonight.” He answers, but his thoughts aren’t on this conversation. They are on the buzzing in his pocket. “I should be going. Arrangements need to be made for my departure.”
“Back to Italy?”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want me to know where he’s going. He wants to hurt me. He wants Kai. But he doesn’t feel safe here in Miami. With one phone call I’ll find out who his greatest enemy in town is, and then I’ll use it to my advantage.
I will keep Kai safe.
“Do we have a deal?” I ask, holding out my hand already knowing he’s going to take it. He risked his empire all to claim my woman. He wants to hurt me; I just wish I knew why. At his party he acted like we were great friends. But that’s how enemies behave in public, like the best of friends. Only in private do we dare to make moves against each other.
He grips it and then pulls out his phone. He speaks to his right-hand man, and I know the money is in my account. I don’t verify it. I don’t give a shit about the money. That’s not what this is about.
Milo wants power over me, and he’s taking it. He set a trap to get me to sell Kai, and I fell for it. He won this round, just as Kai won her first round in our game. But I never lose twice against the same opponent. The next round goes to me, and I will slaughter him.
“The whore?” Milo asks, watching my reaction when he calls Kai a whore again.
“Westcott,” I say.
The door opens, and Westcott steps inside. “Have Langston bring me Miss Miller.”
“Yes, Mr. Black,” Westcott answers.
I want to add—slowly. Take your fucking time so I can make Milo squirm. The second he gets back I know he will depart. I only have minutes to make my plan work, but I don’t doubt I can make it happen. I can save Kai while keeping up the ruse that I want to sell her.
I take out my cell phone. “I just need to confirm you made the payment, and then the whore is yours.”
I dial Zeke’s number.
“Do you have a fucking plan?” Zeke answers.
“Yes, I’d like to confirm Milo Wallace deposited ten million into my account,” I say, even though I don’t give a shit if the money was deposited, and I know Zeke won’t either.
“Shit, Langston said he’s here to take her to Milo. You better have a fucking plan Enzo, or I’ll kill you myself. We don’t sell women. We fight, we kill to protect our empire, but we never sell women like objects.” He pauses. “I’m letting her go, but you better have a fucking plan.”
“How much longer until you find out if the money is there? Mr. Wallace is in a hurry,” I say, trying to let Zeke know he doesn’t have much time to do what I want him to do.
Zeke sighs into the phone. “I’ll find out everything I can about Milo. But we already know everything. We know his organization. His number two. His allies. And his enemies.”
“Yes, can you read that last number again?”
“His enemies? I should focus on his enemies?”
“Yes, thank you for confirming the deposit.” I end the call, knowing I gave Zeke all the information to get started searching for Milo’s enemy. The one closest to Miami. The biggest threat.
“The money has been confirmed,” I say to Milo.
“Good. Now, where’s my whore?”
“She’s coming. One of my men is bringing her now.”
There is a knock, and my heart stops.
I hate this plan.
I would much rather shoot Milo here now, but that could put Kai at bigger risk. Men would know she’s my weakness. They would try to take her just to control me.
Langston opens the door and escorts Kai in, holding onto her bicep. Kai doesn’t look at me, nor Milo. She’s a stone fortress blocking everything out. She doesn’t even react to Langston’s touch on her arm.
Milo looks her up and down. “Good. Sorry for cutting this short, but I really should be going.”
I nod. “Of course, we won’t keep you waiting.”
I’m heartless. I beg my heart to stop beating because I know this is going to rip it to shreds.
Milo stands up and grabs Kai by the wrist.
She doesn’t flinch.
God, she’s so fucking strong.
This ends here. This is the last time a man touches her without her permission. I don’t care how many times she betrays me; I won’t hurt her or let anyone else hurt her again.
I want to tell Kai this with my eyes and soul. I want her to believe me, but she won’t—not until I prove it over and over and over.
I nod to Langston, and he releases his grip on her arm. Milo starts leading her out the door, pulling her too forcibly. But I compel my body to stay in my seat until he’s gone.
I will get her back. She will not take a step onto that yacht. Even if I have to shoot Milo myself and start an impossible war. I will not let her get hurt.
Kai’s eyes fall to mine, surprising the hell out of me.
I promise her with my eyes. “I will save you—trust me,” I mouth.
“I know,” she mouths back, and then she’s gone.
I’m gutted.
How can she put faith in me after everything I did? After I’m letting a man, who has beaten her before, take her? Did something happen up in that bedroom while I was gone? Did Zeke say something? How can she trust me?
Because I’m her only hope. She has no choice but to put her faith in me.
I can still earn her forgiveness, not that I deserve it. I don’t want to be redeemed. I only want to keep her safe.
I hear the front door shut from my office where Langston stands looking at me like he’s ready to kill me. But I don’t have time to explain myself to him. There is work to do. And I will not fail.
I close my eyes letting the pain I deserve in, because watching another man take Kai was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
3
Kai
Each step away from Enzo’s office physically hurts.
Each fucking step is another memory of his betrayal. Of the pain he caused me. He fucked up, and somehow I’m the one paying for his mistakes.
Stop.
I can’t think about what Enzo did that landed me in this mess. I can’t think about what my father did that started this all. I can’t think about anything other than finding a way out.
I will never be someone’s slave. Never again.
I’d rather die.
Have faith in Enzo—trust him. Enzo’s done everything he can to protect me, and even though he’s the reason Milo is taking me, he’s the best hope I have at getting free.
But didn’t I learn from last time I can’t have hope in anyone coming to rescue me?
Enzo didn’t know I was taken, last time though. He didn’t make me a promise to keep me safe. To prevent any other man from harming me ever again.
I can’t rely on my father or anyone else coming to save me, but maybe I can count on Enzo coming.
Milo leads me to a blacked out SUV. He opens the door and releases my wrist, waiting for me to get into the car, but not controlling me. He wants me to surrender to him—never going to happen.
“Get in the car, Mrs. Black,” Milo says.
I narrow my eyes and scowl. I know Enzo didn’t confirm our marriage. That would look like a weakness if he gave up his wife to a man like Milo.
“It’s Miller, Kai Miller,” I snap.
“No, it’s not. It’s Black. I don’t buy Enzo’s bullshit. You mean something to him. He gave you his mother’s ring. But I don’t know why he sold you. Oh well, his loss is my gain.” Milo sweeps my hair off my neck.
I jump at his touch. Not because his fingers swept over a bruise, but because Milo is the last man on this earth I want touching me.
He grins at my reaction. “You’re jumpier than the last time we met. Is there a reason for it?”
I growl. “You’re a monster.”
“No.” He leans down until his breath is at my ear. “I’m your
new master.”
I shiver.
“And if you don’t get in the car right now, I’ll beat you until our previous meeting doesn’t even register on your pain scale anymore,” he says.
I glance behind me to the door of the beach house I’ve come to feel like home.
It’s not my home. It betrayed me.
And even though the only people who give the tiniest of shits if I live or die are all inside its walls, none come for me. None fight for me. I’m on my own.
I take a deep breath, knowing I have to choose my battles if I’m going to survive. And refusing to get into the car won’t help me. Not when Enzo will order Langston or Zeke to put me in the car themselves if I try to run.
I climb into the car, all the way to the far side, and then Milo slides into the seat next to me. Two men sit in the front seat. Neither of them speak or turn to look at us; they remain focused on the windshield as if they are statues.
But Milo nods, and the car starts driving forward. As soon as we exit Enzo’s property, we are surrounded by half a dozen more cars that feel more like tanks than ordinary vehicles. All driving around us, like Milo is the fucking president or something.
“Is the protection really necessary? Enzo sold me; I don’t think he will be rushing to try and get me back,” I snap.
“Enzo isn’t my enemy—at least he isn’t today. I have many enemies in this country. But don’t worry, I have the best team; I won’t let anyone hurt you but me.”
I want to fight—that’s my initial reaction. It’s been a long time since I truly got to fight.
With Jarod, I learned to lock my mind and heart away. I blocked it all out after the first few months.
But I’m tired of blocking it all out. I won’t let my mind shut down and put up walls anymore. I’m still just as fucked up after shutting it all out. It didn’t truly protect me. Maybe if I had continued to fight day after day, I wouldn’t be so fucked up now?
So that’s my plan. To never stop fighting. To fight until I have nothing left. To fight until Enzo saves me or I die.
Enzo Black may be a monster. The kind of man who would sell me because of my disloyalty. But that is only half of who Enzo is. The other half protects the innocent and deserving. He will do everything he can to protect me. Even if it takes him years, he will come for me. And I won’t lock away what’s left of me while I wait. I won’t go backward. Enzo helped me heal, and although I have a long way yet to go, I won’t let Milo break any of my progress.
When Enzo saves me, I will remain as I am. Not because Enzo deserves to have me whole, but because I do. I deserve to stay healed. I deserve to remain strong. I deserve to remain Kai Miller.
“I can’t wait to get you alone,” Milo says, reaching over and stroking my arm with his finger.
Fight.
I grab his finger and twist as hard as I can, hoping to break it, and if not, do some amount of damage.
He doesn’t make a sound. Not one moan of agony. He removes his hand seamlessly from my grasp.
“You’re a fighter, I’ll give you that. I wasn’t sure after our previous encounter where you just locked that pretty little mind away. This version of you will be so much more enjoyable.”
He slaps me across the cheek. I feel the burn of his touch. I feel the sting as our skin collides. My head whips to the side, but I feel nothing beneath the outer layer of my skin.
No fear.
No pain.
Nothing.
I study myself, trying to determine if I locked my soul inside again to protect myself.
I didn’t. I’m still here. But my fury is bigger than the pain. My determination at fighting is stronger.
“Tell me about Enzo. Tell me how you two met,” Milo says.
I open my mouth to refuse when Milo’s phone rings. I hear the buzzing in his pocket, and I look out the window at the passing palm trees.
Milo speaks into the phone, but I don’t listen. I try to enjoy the sunlight pouring in. I don’t know the next time I’ll feel the warmth from the sun on my skin.
He ends the call. “It’s time for us to have a chat.”
I turn my attention back to him, just as his phone buzzes again. He growls as he looks at the number and decides to answer it. “Yes,” he hisses into the phone.
I watch as Milo gets four more phone calls. All from numbers he chooses to answer. Each call lasts five minutes or longer. Each call distracts and irritates Milo further. But he answers them. Each and every one.
Enzo.
Is he arranging these calls? Finding a way to distract Milo to protect me?
Yes, I feel it.
But how long can he keep this up? And once we get to wherever Milo is taking me, then what? Enzo can’t keep having the entire city call Milo.
I need to fight.
I don’t know if Enzo is going to be able to get me back for a long time, but I can try now—while Milo is distracted.
I need a weapon.
I can’t overpower Milo. The door is locked, and there is no way to unlock it from the back seat so I can’t run. The only chance I have is to find a weapon.
I’m sure Milo has a gun on him. Enzo, Langston, and Zeke all carry a weapon near their waist. But I don’t see anything visible on Milo from where I’m sitting.
I glance down to his thick boots. Enzo also carries knives in his boots.
I’d rather have a gun. Langston and Zeke taught me how to shoot. If I had a gun, I’d kill Milo. Although, Milo’s two goons in the front would probably shoot me before I had a chance to turn the gun on them. It would be worth it to know Milo is dead. His men might finish me off, but not before I destroyed Milo.
But if he’s carrying a knife near his ankle, that would be easier for me to get than a gun in a waistband buried beneath his jacket.
Milo’s eyes are trained out the window as he barks into the phone. Something about having plenty of fuel by the time we get there, or he’ll kill them all.
Fuel?
I look out the front window, and that’s when I realize where we are going—his yacht.
Fuck.
I will not get on his yacht. I can’t. I’d rather die.
Seeing the dock and his yacht looming in the distance fans my desire to act. I must act—now.
I glance over at Milo one more time, trying to decide where I’m most likely to find a weapon. And one I can easily retrieve. I decide to go for the ankle.
I bend down, pretending to mess with my own shoe. My eyes focus down, trying not to draw any attention from the three men in the car. When Milo’s voice grows loud again, I make my move.
I slip my hand under his pant’s leg until I feel metal. Then, I grab it—my body launching over Milo’s as the knife lands at his throat.
The car lurches trying to throw me off Milo, but I hold the knife steady to his throat, watching as he swallows carefully.
He laughs and ends the call without a goodbye.
“Easy, guys. I can handle this,” Milo says to the two men in the front seat.
I don’t let my eyes dart around to see the men behind me, their guns trained on me I'm sure. I keep my focus on slicing the knife into Milo’s neck. I should have already done it, instead of waiting to persuade Milo to set me free.
“You are a spirited one. I’m going to have so much fun breaking you.”
“You won’t touch me.”
He tilts his head, allowing me better access to his neck, and I press harder—until one droplet of blood coats the knife.
So close. Just a little harder and blood will be spurting.
Milo chuckles. “You should have slit my throat by now.”
I press harder, watching more blood. “And if I slit your throat, your men will kill me a second later.”
“Ah, that’s your concern.” He looks up to his men. “If she slits my throat, you are to do nothing to her. You don’t touch her. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” both men say.
I freeze. What the hell?
<
br /> “There, now you are free to slit my throat without any repercussion from my men.”
Do it.
“But, you better make sure you kill me when you slice my throat. Because I will make you pay ten times over for any damage you do to me.”
His hand comes to my wrist gripping the knife, and he presses it harder to his neck as more blood spills. He doesn’t show the slightest sign of agony at the blade’s touch. This man understands pain. And this isn’t pain to him—I understand the feeling.
“I want you to slice my neck. It will make it so much more fun when I slice your neck right back.”
Shit.
What am I doing? I will never get out of here alive. I don’t have to. I just can’t get on that yacht.
He releases his grip on my wrist. “What’s it going to be, whore? Slice my neck and see what happens. Because as much as you think you will be able to kill me, you have to slice a lot deeper for me to bleed out before my team of men jumps in to save me.”
My eyes cut to the two men driving and the dozens of cars around us. No doubt one of them is a doctor, and no doubt he is carrying a pint of his blood. I’ve seen what money can do to motivate a doctor to save a dying man’s life. Zeke shouldn’t be alive except for having the highest paid doctor with the best training to do whatever it takes to save him.
Milo will be no different. One slice won’t be enough to kill him. I would need a dozen or more stabs. And Milo will only let me get one before he fights back.
His eyes threaten me, as if they already know my thoughts, and he’s a dozen steps ahead of me.
I need to do something he isn’t expecting. It’s my only chance.
I could stab myself—put an end to this.
I won’t.
I want to live.
For no other reason than to kick Enzo’s ass for selling me.
There are six additional cars. More than a dozen men ride in the fancy, most likely bulletproof, vehicles all around us. I’m outnumbered by a ridiculous amount.
Milo’s phone rings again, but he ignores it—too infatuated by what I’m going to do.
I’m going to crash this motherfucking car.
I pull the knife back and slice across Milo’s cheek, needing to cause him some pain for thinking he could buy me like property. And then I fling the knife with everything I can toward the driver. Hoping to God it hits him hard enough for him to lose control of the vehicle. And then I launch myself at him.
