Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Azrael
Hevan plagues my every thought, and I know deep in my soul she will one day be taken from me, but I refuse to accept that day will come.
She’s not just my possession; she’s something more. Something I didn’t know I needed in order to survive, a reason for living. Something for myself, however doomed it may be.
Bitterness fills my bloodstream when I consider her previous life, one full of happiness and normality.
Something I’ve never had the privilege of.
It was stolen from me as much as I stole her life from her.
At least she’s had those experiences, those thoughts, but each one is crippling since it was without me.
I know she craves normality, but that isn’t something I can provide her with, and I can only hope she understands that.
The meeting with Harrison Davis, the police commissioner, went as expected.
The man is a liability, but my father refuses to acknowledge it, too driven by his greed to see the signs of a crumbling empire.
Harrison has too many enemies, which means too many eyes on him.
The fact that he has a thing for teenage girls is worrying.
A man in his position has power, and that power, combined with my father’s, makes for a sinister war on humanity.
He reassured my father that the motorcycle club he intends to use to traffic sex slaves is reliable and local. His eyes darted from mine to my father’s while I sat back nonchalantly, aware they were indeed talking about various ages, not just women and men.
There’s no way in hell I’m showing my displeasure with their plans. I need a strategy to time it right, to benefit me as well as the future of the Carrera name and empire.
They need to believe I am as much a part of this as they are. Any room for uncertainty would lead to my demise and, ultimately, Hevan’s too, and I refuse to allow it.
Not now. Not ever.
She’s quickly become the center of my world, and I intend to keep it that way.
I push open her bedroom door, relieved to see the box on the bed opened and the contents removed.
The bathroom door opens, and as I turn to face her, I’m stunned and my heart skips a beat.
She’s beautiful.
Her icy-blonde locks have been straightened, resting on her hips. The little red dress with matching heels make her look mouthwatering, and the red lipstick coating her lips has me imagining swiping it across her face as I throat-fuck the ever living fuck out of her mouth.
She coughs, and a blush takes over her pale cheeks. “Do I look okay?”
“Beautiful.”
She smiles even brighter. “Where are we going exactly? You said we were leaving the premises, right?”
I narrow my eyes. Is she planning an escape?
“One of my clubs,” I state.
She flinches, and I hate that she does.
“It’ll be in a private area, and everyone there wants to be there. On the payroll.” I’m quick to clarify.
“You thought that about your whorehouse,” she snarks, and I glare at her. She’s not wrong. I thought everyone who was brought to my room was willing. Something deep warps my excitement. Has he been sending unwilling girls my way, knowing I’d hate that, or is Hevan truly a one-off?
“Azrael?” Just like that, my thoughts are shut down, and my attention is on her. She throws her hair over her shoulder. “The red is a bit much, don’t you think?” she says, smoothing down the dress over her thighs.
I step forward, happy to reassure her, and when my toes touch hers, I twirl a lock of her hair around my finger. “You look perfect.”
She chews on her bottom lip, and I pluck it from beneath her teeth. “You’ll get lipstick on your teeth. Be a good girl for me.”
Her eyes flash with arousal. “I will,” she promises, and her innocence draws me in and creates a possessiveness deep inside me. No one will ever hurt her. Her safety is my priority and always will be; it’s why I took so many steps for tonight.
It took a lot of work to create a simple route in and out of the club without the detection of my enemies or supposed allies.
“You look stunning, and I like the red.”
“Do you dress all your women in this?” She lifts a brow.
I don’t want to lie to her, but I don’t want to tell her the truth either.
“Not all of them, no.” A sadness fills her eyes, and I want to eradicate it, pull it from her until it leaves her body and mind untouched.
But I don’t intend to show her the side of me I’m still trying to recognize myself.
I take a step back and inflict her with the words I know will piss her off.
“Just the lipstick. I like it smearing my cock when I face-fuck my whores.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” she says deadpan, then pushes past me and stops at the door while I focus on the carpet, hating the way this is going already. She craves normality, dates, and this is the best I can give her? Fucking pathetic.
“Can we leave now?” She clucks her tongue, and I roll my eyes before pulling open the door and taking her hand in mine. She struggles in a lame attempt to jerk away from me, but my grip tightens to the point she whimpers.
“Continue acting like a brat and I’ll drop you off at a different club that has a particular calling for it.”
She relaxes in my hold, and triumph floods me.
Jensen is waiting at the SUV when I open the front door, but Little Toy’s footing wavers on the first step, so I turn to see what’s wrong. My eyes roam over her face and down her body as she sucks in deep breaths of air.
“I haven’t been outside in a while.” Her emotion is obvious with how she struggles to speak, and something tugs in my chest. I make a mental note to ensure she has access to the garden.
“Sir? Are we ready to leave?” Jensen asks, checking his watch.
She moves toward the SUV, and I open the door for her, then round the vehicle to get in on the other side.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, brow furrowed.
“No,” I state.
He slaps me on the back. “She has your balls in a vise.”
I scoff loudly. “Doubtful.” It’s unheard of. There’s no way in hell a woman would have power over me. Over a Carrera.
“You keep telling yourself that.” He grins, and I want to rip out his jaw. He looks me up and down. “You’re thinking of killing me, aren’t you?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, at least wait until after she realizes it’s a strip club you’re taking her to on your first date. That way, I have some entertainment during my demise.” He beams.
“Where the hell was I supposed to take her?” I snap back, pissed he’s just now bringing up the location may be an issue.
“Somewhere romantic, Paris or something.” His eyebrows dance, and I stare back at him. Fucking Paris? He nods as if hearing my thoughts, and his beam broadens. He’s being serious. “Women like that shit.” He shrugs.
“Keep your fucked-up notions to yourself.” I open the door and slip inside, ignoring the way he snorts like an idiot.
I’m already breaking every unwritten rule I conjured up and live by. There’s no way in hell I’m giving more than this. I’ve never had a date in my entire life.
Little Toy will understand this and be grateful for what I offer. I’ll make her.