by Linnea May
She pauses for a moment, the expression on her face laced with worry when she concludes, “And... what do you mean by ‘no is not an option’? What am I supposed to make of that?”
She looks hurt and—finally—terrified when she catches my eyes now.
“I need you for a special operation, a task that should come easy to a woman like you,” I begin to explain.
“A woman like me?” The crease between her eyebrows reappears, and this time, it’s deeper than ever.
I simply nod.
“Yes, a woman with your skills—and your predisposition.”
She lets out an impatient groan, which brings a smile to my face. We’ve only met up for a very short time, but I know Riley well enough to know how much she fucking hates it when people beat around the bush.
“What do you even mean by that, Cain?”
“What I mean is your programming—or rather, hacking—skills and your female allure.”
She gasps and pulls the duvet closer around herself. Her lips are moving as if to form words, but she remains silent, only investigating me with a questioning—and horrified—look while she waits for me to elaborate.
I finally have her attention where I need it—ready to hear the truth.
The full truth.
“I am not who you think I am, Riley,” I begin, piercing her in place with my alert and intense gaze as I speak. “My name is not Cain Hewett, and I’m not an investor in cybersecurity applications.”
She swallows dryly, but doesn’t dare say a word. Still, I can see the hurt in her expression. I lied to her, even about something as basic as my name.
“I’m a criminal. I have assumed a lot of names and done a lot of things over the years that most men would not be proud of. Illegal things, cruel things—violent things. It wasn’t exactly a choice, but it had to be done.”
The furrow between her eyebrows remains as she waits for me to go on.
“I need you to get close to a certain man, another criminal. I need you to come really close to him, to seduce him, if you want to call it that. I need you to make him trust you so he will take you with him into his home, his operating space, or wherever the hell he keeps his servers and computers. I need you to gain access to these computers and hack into them for—”
“What?” she cuts me off in a shrill voice. “You can’t be serious, this is—”
“Illegal and dangerous, yes,” I complete her sentence. “I told you. It’s not an easy task to say yes to, but I need you to do this.”
“Why?” she repeats her favorite question.
“Because there is no other way,” I respond vaguely. “It’s the only way I can get my revenge.”
“Revenge for what?”
Now I’m the one who has to swallow hard. I’m the one fighting for words because—much to my surprise—the truth still doesn’t cross my lips easily. It still hurts as much as it did back then. And I know it always will, unless I get this done.
Still, Riley needs to hear it. She needs to hear why I’m putting her through all of this.
She needs to hear the truth that I’ve been too stubborn to share with anyone else.
“Revenge for what, Cain?” she implores, leaning forward with an intrigued look on her face.
And I finally get myself to say the words that I’ve been to afraid to say for years.
“Revenge for the death of my parents.”
Chapter 13
Riley
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. None of it makes any sense. My fingers clench around the duvet protectively, trying to hold onto anything that may provide me with even an ounce of safety. It’s an illusion, of course.
Just like him.
It seems that nothing about him was real, not even his name. And he considers it a good idea to unveil all of his lies with a request for my help? He cannot be serious.
“What happened to your parents?” I ask him the question without making eye contact. My voice is monotone, hollow, lacking any emotion to betray the turmoil brewing inside me.
I honestly don’t know where to start, so this question is as good as any other.
Cain clears his throat and shifts uneasily on the mattress next to me. His demeanor leads me to believe that he is about to speak of something painful, something from the past that’s been haunting him for years.
Or perhaps he is about to tell me another lie.
“They were killed,” he simply says, and the tone of his voice is so heavy that I want to believe him.
“By the man you want me to... seduce?”
I look up at him then, trying to lock eyes so I can search for the truth in his. But he evades my gaze and looks right past me. The expression on his face is sad and he seems to be absent, lost in thought.
“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “It was a long time ago, and this man had nothing to do with it. It was the organization he’s working for. They killed them.”
“What organization is that?”
“The Covey,” he growls, deep-seated hate lacing his words. A shadow comes over his face and I see him clenching his fists in anguish. “The fucking Covey, a crime syndicate with close relations to the New England Mafia families. My father made the mistake of getting involved with them. It cost him his wife and, later on, his own life.”
Despite everything, my heart aches for Cain when I look at him now. It’s apparent that he’s not lying about this. His pain is so palpable that I can feel it clenching in my gut, clutching at my heart with urgency.
He never mentioned his parents when I knew him before, or anything about his background, his family, his past for that matter. I didn’t think much of it because, despite our intense play, the connection we shared was only superficial—or so I kept telling myself.
“I’m... so sorry.”
My words don’t sound sincere, but they are. Still, I feel silly for saying them, considering that it doesn’t change the fact that Cain kidnapped me. He lured me with a fake job offer under a false identity, he had me grabbed off the street by two disgusting thugs, and—worst of all—he humiliated me and had me manhandled and locked up by them. Naked. He took away my dignity and scared me to death.
The pity in my heart shifts to fury as I recall the reality of my situation, and the expression on my face hardens.
Is he playing me again? Is he trying to get my sympathy with that sob story about his parents?
Is what he’s telling me really true?
I’m not so sure anymore. The doubt doesn’t creep in slowly—it pops up with a bang, quickly casting aside any empathy that I may have felt just a few moments before.
“How am I supposed to believe you? After all the lies you’ve told me.”
He looks at me now, and he’s infuriated.
“What kind of person lies about their parents’ fucking death?” he snarls at me.
“What kind of person lures a woman under false pretenses into a deserted neighborhood, kidnaps her, makes her believe that it’s all just part of kinky play, gets her naked, ties her up, and then humiliates her in front of creepy strangers, just to lock her up in a basement and—”
“I get it!” he snaps, raising his voice to a level that makes me shudder with fear.
He pins me down with a dark stare and I sway away from him, the duvet still tightly pressed around my naked body.
“You have no reason to believe me,” he begins, his voice apologetic and somber this time. “I have lied to you before because I had to—”
“You didn’t have to!” I insist. “You didn’t have to do any of this! What were you even doing at my workplace back then? Is that when it started? Did you come there because of me? Did you seek me out to become a fucking Venus flytrap for you? Is that why you pretended to be interested in the product we worked so hard on? Is that why you got me fired?”
He just stares at me as I vehemently spit out accusations at him. There’s nothing on his face that would tell me if my assumptions are true or false. He neither
denies nor admits them.
He just looks at me with that stone-cold, expressionless face.
“Answer me!” I shriek at him, and I revel in the way he jolts up now, surprised by my sudden outburst as much as I am.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says eventually, which only adds to my rage.
“It matters to me!” I assert. “Cain, you tricked me. You... you destroyed my life! That job was everything to me! I worked so hard to get there, you have no idea! And then... just because of you, it—”
“If that job was everything to you, then why be so reckless and risk losing it?” he counters. “I didn’t force you to do anything. You played along voluntarily. You fucking enjoyed yourself, you little...”
His voice breaks off then, but the frenzy is still flaring in his eyes when he pins me down without even touching me.
“You’re forcing me now.” I hate that my voice quivers when I say this. And I hate that my eyes are watering when I remember the place I’m in right now.
A place that he put me in.
“Yes, I am forcing you now,” he admits. “Because I need you. You’re perfect for this, Riley. You have everything I need to get this done.”
“I’m so glad you think I’m perfect for this crazy endeavor! I mean, who cares about me, right? Who cares about my choice in this, my career, my... life?”
He shakes his head as he lifts his hand to touch me. And I fucking let him. I let him touch my cheek in a soothing caress. I even lean into his touch and take in his scent, closing my eyes while I feel his warm hand tracing down my cheek. It’s wrong on so many levels, but it still settles me. It gives me the comfort I so desperately seek.
“You may not believe it, Riley, but I care,” Cain reveals in a soft voice. “I care about you. I care about your life. That’s why it’s of utmost importance that you listen to me and that you let me prepare you for this mission. As hard as it may be, you’ll have to trust me on this.”
“What if I don’t? What if I refuse?”
“You can’t.”
“You better believe I can,” I hiss at him. “You can’t chain me down here forever. You can’t force me to seduce that guy, you can’t force me to do anything. The second you let me out of this basement, I’ll run and scream for help. How on Earth do you think you can get me to comply with this bullshit if it includes having to let me move all on my own?”
I pause, releasing a dark laugh. “Or are you planning to tag along the whole time? Are you going to chaperone the date? Why not just—”
“You will do this for me,” he thunders, removing his hand from my cheek. His eyes are narrow when he looks at me now, foreshadowing the horrible threat he utters next.
“Because if you don’t, your sister will die.”
My heart almost stops as panic settles in. My thoughts run amok, bouncing back and forth between questions that I already know the answers to.
How does he know about Alena?
Because you told him, silly. Because unlike him, you were quite chatty about yourself, your past, your family—or what’s left of it. You told him about your hero, your older sister, and how you feel forever indebted to her because she raised you after your parents died. She sacrificed so much for you, more than any young girl should.
She’s the reason I became who I am, and I will never forget that. That’s why I talk about her so much, even to people like him, men who I barely know and who just entered my life for a brief, yet intense period of time.
“You wouldn’t...,” I cry out helplessly. “You’re not a murderer, you would never...”
But his sinister expression assures me that he would.
He said it himself. He’s a liar, a criminal. He invaded my life in a way only an evil man would. The way he treated me today is not how a man who simply enjoys playing the role of an intimidating Dom in the bedroom would treat me.
I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to believe he would actually hurt Alena just so I will play along with his insane request.
Tense silence stretches between us while I try to read Cain. I’m searching for an empty threat, a hint that would suggest his words are unfounded and my sister’s life is not actually in danger if I don’t go along with this.
My search comes to an abrupt end when he finally challenges me.
“Do you really want to take a chance on finding out?”
Chapter 14
Cain
I never expected an answer to my question, but I love the expression on Riley’s face right now. She looks just terrified enough to tell me that she has no intention of testing me on this. She believes what I’m saying.
Still, I decide to put more weight into my threat.
“She lives on the Upper East Side in Manhattan with that rich prick, doesn’t she?” I hiss, and Riley’s eyes widen with terror. “What’s his name again? Brower, I believe? Michael Raad Brower. Isn’t that right?”
She doesn’t respond, instead only staring me down with her lips pressed into a thin line, and her face loses all of its color.
“You… wouldn’t,” she repeats, her voice so low that it’s barely audible.
“Alena is her name?” I go on, now leaning in closer to her. “Alena Prey.”
“Brower,” Riley corrects me. “They just got married.”
She bites her lip as if to stop herself from revealing any more sensitive information. Not that she did. I already knew this. I know all there is to know about little Miss Riley and her only living relative.
The only person whose life means more to her than her own.
“Leave Alena alone,” she pleads now, and heavy tears start trailing down her pale cheeks. “Please… don’t hurt my sister.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “If you do what I ask of you.”
Another tear, and another. She cries silently, seemingly unaware of the salty river drenching her pretty face. The make-up she was wearing earlier is gone now, and her hair is still damp from the shower she must have taken after she was delivered down here. Apart from the duvet wrapped around her shoulders, she’s as naked as can be. So vulnerable, so alluring.
“What exactly are you asking of me?” she sobs, subtly shaking her head. “I mean… you say I’m supposed to, like, seduce a random guy and go home with him so I can access his computer? What makes you think I could do such a thing?”
She looks so small and helpless now, the tears falling from her chin in heavy drops as she moves her head.
“Because I know what you’re capable of,” I tell her. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re brilliant, Riley. I know that those ridiculous Wi-Fi-hacking tasks were nothing to someone like you. I saw your code skills back then, and I’ve heard the praises from your old boss.”
The look on her face changes while she listens to me. Her cheeks are still wet, her eyes still wide with fright, but there’s a note of pride in her expression now.
“So, you did seek me out back then?” she murmurs, sounding as horrified as she is flattered.
But I shake my head. “No. That was pure coincidence. I was interested in the project, not in you.”
I relish the shadow of disappointment that cloaks her now. Little Miss Riley wanted to be seen by me, and she wanted to be appreciated for her skills more than her appearance or kinky allure. Smart girls like her always crave having someone notice and admire the brain behind the looks, even if they invest in dolling themselves up.
I feel a nudge of regret and irritation at myself upon that realization. If this is about gaining her trust and obedience, why didn’t I just lie to her? Flatter her, make her feel special. I could have told her that, yes, I did look specifically for her, maybe even stalked her to find out where she worked.
“That changed after I met you,” I add, and intrigue flickers in her grey-green eyes. “When I was told that most of the brilliant code for that program wasn’t written by the senior developer but by you, I didn’t want to believe it at first.”
“That’s wh
y you asked me about it,” she interjects, understanding dawning on her face. “You asked me a lot of questions that were meant for Elijah. He got mad at me about it.”
I nod. “Yes, because I was intrigued with you, Riley. That such a young girl could write a program like this, it’s unheard of—to me, at least.”
She sways away from me ever so slightly when I lean in even closer to her, my face almost touching hers while I reach up, placing a finger beneath her chin to keep her face in place and make sure she doesn’t avert her eyes from me.
“And such a naughty little girl, too,” I whisper, feeling her hot breath caressing the skin above my upper lip. “I could see it in your eyes right from the start. I could hear you calling me out, begging to be tied down and taken by me like a—”
“Stop it!” she cuts me off, closing her eyes in shame. She tries to turn away from me, but I pinch her chin between two fingers, firmly holding her in place, and she grimaces in pain.
“Stop,” she repeats, her pleading eyes latched onto mine. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
Her lips are quivering while she seems to fight for the right words.
“Th-this…,” she stutters eventually. “You’re trying to seduce me and make me forget what you did to me… what you want from me.”
I release a sinister cackle at her presumption, and firmly shake my head.
“I’m doing nothing of the sort, Riley. I’m just answering your question. I’m telling you why you’re perfect for this job.”
“Yes, I get that,” she now hisses at me. “Because I’m smart and… easy. You think because I did those things with you, I’ll just fuck anybody. You need a slut with a brain, and that’s exactly what I—”
My right hand slaps across her tear-drenched cheek and stops her mid-sentence. She’s so surprised and shocked at my sudden slap that she manages nothing but a blank stare as a response.
“You fucking stop that right now,” I warn her, holding my index finger up right in front of her face. “You’re insulting yourself, and insulting you means insulting me. I don’t tolerate that one bit—do you understand?”
