Chapter Fifteen
Ashlynn
I knew Steele was a criminal, and ruthless, but he never seemed barbaric. The second these new men had me, they threw me in the backseat of the SUV. My legs were tied, and my hands were secured behind my back. The rough rope cut into my already tender wrists and ankles, and when I cried out in pain, they laughed and taunted me, then threatened me until I shook in fear. I thought about the elegant white room that Steele confined me in, and I found myself comparing it to my current situation, gagged and bound, crumpled up in the backseat of an SUV.
The man who had originally called out to me was on the phone. He seemed like he might be the leader, so I listened intently to his call, trying to figure out why he took me. Was there a chance they were working for my father? But, if so, why would they tie me up?
“We got her,” he said, his voice stern and his accent thick. “Make the call—tell Phillips that if he wants to see his daughter alive, he has twenty-four hours to pay up, or we start removing pieces of her.
I let my tears fall, truly frightened. I’d run away from a hostage situation just to be put in an even worse one. These guys made Steele look like the Easter Bunny. They were vulgar and spent the ride congratulating each other on the filthy deeds they had done, the grizzliest kills they’d made. Part of me wished they’d knock me out so I wouldn’t have to listen to what I envisioned was my future. Every bump in the road reminded me of the terrible situation I was in. Every cackle and maniacal laugh made my stomach twist and turn. The smell of the cigarettes they smoked added to it, and I nearly vomited inside the black hood.
I had no way to measure the time, but those were some of the longest moments of my life. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard some commotion up in the front seat.
“Fuck me, he’s got the road blocked.”
It was telling that my first thought was that it was Steele, not my father.
“Turn around, head back towards the city,” another voice called. “We’ll have to—”
The car suddenly lurched to the side, and I was thrown on the floor, wedged between the seats.
“He’s shot out the tires!” The men’s voices were panicky, which made me hopeful. I felt the car shake, spin a bit, and then stop altogether.
I could barely discern what was happening from underneath the hood I wore. Men’s voices were shouting, guns were cocked, shots fired. I heard an explosion, and my ears pounded as I struggled against my bonds, injuring my wrists even more.
Wind hit my body as the doors of the SUV were flung open, and I heard a grunt and then several more rounds fired. I trembled, the sound of gunfire ringing in my ears.
Rough hands reached for me, hauling me up by my shoulders. I kicked wildly, not knowing who had me or what was happening around me.
“Now is not the time for that, Miss Phillips.”
Steele’s voice was music to my ears. Between the Irishman and Steele, I’d gladly take Steele. He pulled me out of the car, helping me to stand. I grimaced when I put weight on my bare feet, knowing the soles were covered in abrasions.
The stuffy black hood was finally pulled from my head, and I squinted in the early light of dawn. I looked up at my savior’s face, wanting to thank him.
But he was pissed. His eyes were wide and his jaw was clenched so hard I was worried he might crack a tooth. He kept the ropes on my hands and feet, dragging me over to a black Hummer.
The scene around me was a battlefield. At least a dozen men were scattered on the ground, dead. I didn’t know which side was which, but I was thankful to be on Steele’s side. At least, theoretically. Right now, he looked as though he wanted to kill me.
A couple of men came over to talk to Steele. They were all tall and muscular, like him. But, unlike Steele, they didn’t possess his innate power. I knew they all reported to him. He might be a lone shark, but he had the entire ocean ready to do his bidding.
“Did you kill them all?” Steele asked, his voice harsh. He opened the front passenger door of the Hummer and hoisted me inside roughly. I was irritated at the coarse treatment, but I knew better than to push him right now.
“All gone. Twenty men total. But we saved the leader for you.”
The man closest to the Hummer looked at Steele. He had ash-blonde hair and olive skin, an odd contrast. “That’s a lot of manpower for a simple kidnapping. Do you think they were trying to lure you out?”
Steele frowned, and then glanced at me. “We’ll discuss it later,” he told the man, implying that he wasn’t going to let me in on any information. He came over and slammed the car door so hard that the entire car frame shook.
A couple of men brought the driver forward, and I recognized him as the man who called out to me. I observed the scene from the passenger window, watched the man being pushed to the ground on his knees. I couldn’t hear the exchange, but the look on Steele’s face was terrifying. The man on the ground was trembling, shaking in fear. Steele was shouting, and I could just make out what he was saying as he continued to raise his voice.
“—if she has a single bruise on her body, I’ll find your entire family and murder them in cold blood. I hope your stunt was worth it.”
Steele withdrew a gun from the back of his jeans and held it out. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see. I kept them shut tightly as Steele continued to issue commands, walking towards the vehicle.
“Clean this up, and then head back. I’ll call you later today. I have things to deal with.”
I opened my eyes in time to see Steele glare at me. I knew I was in massive trouble. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he walked around to the front of the vehicle. He was wearing a bulletproof vest, dark jeans and combat boots. Combined with the scruff of hair on his face, he looked downright deadly. I’d always known he was muscular, but with his fine suits and beautiful eyes, I’d pegged him for more of a back-office guy, orchestrating his empire by moving pieces on a chessboard. Now I realized he was all in. Not just powerful in name, but in body.
When he got into the driver”s seat, he didn’t even acknowledge me or offer to remove my bindings. We drove in silence, his rifle in the backseat and his pistol on his hip.
I hated guns. I thought they were evil and unnecessary in modern society. But in this instance, I felt lucky he knew how to wield one. And that made me feel like a hypocrite.
Steele looked straight ahead at the road, completely ignoring my existence. I must have fallen asleep at some point, the sheer shock and adrenaline from the evening knocking me out. Before I knew it, he was pulling into the sublevel garage of his London townhouse. He parked the Hummer, and then walked off, leaving me in the car.
I hit the passenger window with my bound hands. “Excuse me?”
In a flash, he opened the door, his face still red with anger.
“I thought you didn’t want to be my hostage anymore. I thought I’d just leave you out here and let someone else take you.”
My face burned with embarrassment. “How dare you say that! I’m the victim here! You can’t blame me for trying to escape.”
His face was inches from mine, and there was nowhere for me to move to. “I do blame you. You put yourself in danger. Do you know what they would have done to you?”
I stuck my chin out. “My father would have paid them.”
“Oh, like he paid me? Your father hasn’t lifted a finger to save you. He doesn’t care, Ashlynn!”
My eyes turned wide, the insult piercing my chest. The second he said the words, I deflated like a balloon. In my heart, I knew what my father was. But hearing Steele’s confirmation shattered my illusion.
He looked at me, and his hostile expression dropped. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that…”
I hung my head, feeling truly hopeless now. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. I was never going to be free again. And the worst part? I wasn’t actually surprised.
Steele knelt by the side of the car, looking up into my face. “Stop that. You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself. That’s not the woman you are.”
I wanted to believe him, but more than anything, I wanted to go to bed. I wanted to wash this shitty day off of me, bandage and lick my wounds in private.
Steele sighed when I didn’t respond, and ran his fingers through his dark hair. It was messy, no longer combed back but sticking out at odd angles. He reached down pulled a knife out of his boot, and I just stared.
“I come at you with a knife, and you don’t even flinch?” He sighed again, then brought the knife up and cut the bonds securing my feet and hands. “Come on.”
I followed him through the garage, my feet leaving bloody marks on the concrete. He didn’t even look back at me, trusting I’d learned my lesson and wouldn’t try to run again.
The floor in the main hall was still soaked, and my feet left patterns of dirt and blood on the expensive rug. I was sure I would hear about it tomorrow. Steele stopped in front of the stairs, and motioned for me to go up. I half expected him to spank me like a misbehaving child, which both humiliated me and excited me. He gestured to another room, this one across the hall from his.
“There’s no windows in here, so don’t get any ideas,” he said, before shoving me inside. I heard the door lock behind me, and I groaned. I was back where I started, and it seemed like Steele was even less entranced by me than before. I was never going to be free. I laid down on the soft bed and let sleep take me.
A knock sounded at the door, and I heard the door unlock.
“Go away.” I was in absolutely no mood to see Steele after our fight.
“I have some new clothes for you. And if I was Mr. Steele, I wouldn’t have knocked.”
It was the butler. The more I interacted with him, the more guilt I felt for assaulting an old man, even though he knew I was being held against my will. But I was tired of wearing Steele’s clothing, and being surrounded by his scent was doing funny things to my brain. I sighed and sauntered over to the door, opening it just a crack to make sure Steele wasn’t present as well.
The man stood there in a crisp black suit, holding a garment bag and a pair of heels in his hands, as well as a small shopping bag. I recognized the hunter green bag and gold writing on it right away–Harrods. Steele might be a master manipulator, but he had good taste. I opened the door a bit wider, and the man strolled in, his shiny dress shoes squelching as he walked on the saturated carpet.
“What’s your name again?” I asked as he placed the clothing items on the bed.
“Quincy,” he replied, his voice a bit stern. I saw the small bruise on the side of his head from his fall. It was fair enough that he would resent me.
Walking towards the bed, I unzipped the garment bag, but there was only a black cocktail dress inside.
“Wait, this is just a–”
“Mr. Steele wishes you to be ready to go in an hour,” Quincy answered, and then shut the door behind him with a little more force than necessary.
Be ready to go in an hour? Where the hell was I going? I searched through the Harrods shopping bag and found a variety of cosmetics. Underneath that was the sexiest and most revealing pair of underwear I’d ever seen in my entire life. And of course, there was a matching bra. Black and see-through, it afforded barely any support, but given the fact that I didn’t have a bra in my possession at all, it would have to do. The fresh panties excited me more than they should, even if they were a ridiculous thong, which honestly had never made sense to me. What was the point of wearing a scrap of fabric that barely covered anything?
I rubbed my eyes and caught a glimpse of my appearance in the mirror. Dark circles made my eyes look sunken and dull, and my hair was flat. I was still wearing Steele’s shirt, and despite me trying to wash out my underwear in the sink, it was a far cry from fresh. I felt my resolve lessen throughout my body as I took both garment and shopping bag into the bathroom.
I hung the bag and dumped the cosmetics on the counter, searching until I found shampoo. Thrilled, I turned on the shower and hopped inside, fully enjoying the ability to get clean with actual beauty products. I spent a good half an hour under the water, humming and washing the mingled smell of sex and sweat off my body. Having Steele’s scent all over me was such a paradox. One half of me absolutely loathed the man, and the other part of me wanted nothing more than to get underneath him again, or perhaps even on top this time.
I dried off and then spent some time on my hair, arranging it in an elegant updo, and then I put on the make-up, feeling less pale and more like myself rather than a hostage.
I unzipped the garment bag and took a long look at the black dress inside, and then gasped.
I enjoyed fashion as much as the average Park Place resident, but this dress was a work of art. It had one strap that clasped at the shoulder with a thick band of diamonds holding the two sides of the dress together. It came down to the knee, hugging my curves as I pulled it up over my hips. The middle of the dress was cut out, but only tiny bits of my stomach were exposed; instead, intricate strands of loosely woven diamonds started at my hip and moved just underneath my breast on the other side, creating a shimmering diamond belt. I looked for a tag inside and couldn’t find anything, but I knew this was a one of a kind dress, and, more likely than not, based on what I’d pieced together about Steele, these were real diamonds.
I wanted to hate it. I wanted to throw the dress out the window and let it get bleached by the sun and moldy in the rain. I wanted the moths to feast on it, to show Steele that he couldn’t buy me off, couldn’t pass me off as another valuable possession he owned. But…I couldn’t help but stare at my silhouette in the long, floor length mirror, and admire how the diamonds sparkled under the light. I couldn’t get past how different I looked from just an hour before.
I heard the door open, and I stepped out of the bathroom to find Steele standing in the middle of the room, a tuxedo clinging to his large frame. He had shaved since that morning, and his hair was styled. He looked as handsome and dark as ever. And his eyes…they were hot and intense, focusing on every inch of my body, starting at my legs, feasting on the high stilettos that seemed to fix my lazy posture, then he moved up my legs, and I was glad I’d taken the time to carefully shave. When his eyes got to the diamond-studded cutout, his pupils constricted, and I knew he liked what he saw. Finally, I felt his hot gaze trail over my breasts before settling on my face. I could tell he was struggling to keep the calm mask he wore upon his face, but his mouth opened slightly as he took in the entire ensemble.
For the first time in a long time, I felt beautiful.
I had average looks—nothing special, nothing to stop a man in his tracks. I’d had boyfriends, sure, but none that lasted long. Coming from the family I did, I was never sure who liked me for me, or who liked me for my wealthy father and prominent connections.
I hated Steele for making me feel this way, for making me feel desired. Wanted. Like a woman. Why did the most intense attraction I had ever felt have to be with my enemy?
I cleared my throat, breaking the sizzling tension in the air. It was clear that he was still angry over the stunt I’d pulled. He instantly broke eye contact, gesturing at the door as he moved through it. I stepped into the hall, trying not to trip in the ridiculously high shoes. My heels still ached from my botched escape, and the shoe straps, made up of thick ribbon, rubbed at the wounds on my ankles. However, they did conceal the damage. I was a bit on the tall side, so I never wore a heel this high, especially when I was with a man. But Steele was so tall that it didn’t matter if I gained an extra three inches of height. Besides, he was so masculine that even if I towered over him, I’d still feel diminished by his very presence.
“Where are we going?” I asked, following him down the stairs. At the landing, I caught a glimpse of several industrial fans blowing on an oriental rug. I refused to feel guilty about the water damage I’d caused, but I hoped that my room would receive the same treatment soon.
“You’ve lost the right to ask questions,” he said as he moved farther down the hall into a large room. “But I’ll answer you this time, just because you look so goddamn beautiful. I’m taking you to an event. I’m proving to the world that you belong to me, and no one else. After your abduction last night, it seems as if people need to know.”
He walked inside and I followed.
A fire crackled and hissed below a large stone hearth, and books adorned every square inch of the walls. A mahogany desk was placed in the center of the room, and a drink cart filled with bottle after bottle of expensive alcohol stood next to it.
“Do I get to ask what kind of event?” I said, trying to read some of the titles on the spines of the books. The more time I spent with Steele, the more I wanted to understand the man underneath the monster.
“Don’t push me, Miss Phillips. I’m in no mood,” he said absentmindedly as he fumbled around in the desk drawers. He pulled out a black velvet case, and I instantly knew that there was jewelry inside. I stopped looking at the books and glanced at his face, trying to figure out his intent.
Steele laughed slightly under his breath. “It’s a loan. Nothing more, Miss Phillips. Think of it as a leash. You’re my property.”
He was back to using my last name, and the coldness that had melted during our passionate night together was back, and even icier and harder to survive than before. I almost slapped him again, but resisted. I was unsteady on my feet and a little worried that I would knock myself out of balance.
I moved closer to him, and he motioned for me to turn around. The coldness from the chain made me shiver, as well as the feeling of Steele’s fingers along my neck. He placed a heavy necklace around my throat, and my breath caught as he gently nuzzled my neck with his nose and placed a fiery kiss on my skin before he connected the ends of the chain. I felt the kiss all the way down my back, and my entire body tingled from the sensation. As mad as he was, he couldn’t help but react to my nearness.
“Perfect,” he said, before handing me an empty black clutch.
“What’s this for?” I asked. “I have nothing to put in it.”
“Appearances,” he replied, grabbing his tuxedo jacket and shrugging into it. “The entire world we live in revolves around the way things look, not necessarily the way things are.”