Chapter 3
Flint
I’d heard rumors about King’s ugly, fat daughter, but I’d never seen her in the flesh. None of my men have. Which is why, when our inside man told us Victoria King would be outside in the alleyway for us to grab, I did a double take when I saw the beautiful woman crying there.
She was wearing a white dress, just like our intel said, but the woman who confirmed she was indeed Victoria King looked nothing like I had imagined.
Luscious curves for days in a figure-hugging dress.
Her dark hair piled up on top of her head with escaping strands framing a beautiful face with high cheekbones, rosebud lips, and eyes so green you could almost smell the forest. Despite being there to kidnap her, I had the sudden urge to protect her.
I ignored this, pushing down my ridiculous thoughts and attraction.
So what if Victoria King was prettier than I expected?
I had a job to do. She was a means to an end, nothing more.
I expected the princess of the Raging Bulls to put up more of a fight, but she came with us without complaint, with the resigned willingness of someone used to obeying orders.
She almost seemed relieved, which at the time I thought strange.
That was, until we called her father and spoke to him.
I’m still reeling from the conversation.
How could a father say that about his own daughter?
I’d heard he blamed his daughter for her mother’s death during childbirth, but I never imagined he would have no love at all for his own child.
His flesh and blood. I knew King was a heartless asshole, but I had no idea he was this cruel.
“He has to be bluffing, right?” I say now to my friends. Victoria is still laughing hysterically.
Her reaction unsettles me and I wonder if she knows something we don’t? Is this all an elaborate plot by her father? Hunter and Cyrus shrug, as baffled by King’s response as I am.
She answers my question, her voice coming in breathlessly as she tries to calm down.
“No, he’s not. He was being brutally honest. I’m sorry, but I don’t mean anything to him—certainly not five hundred thousand dollars.
” She doesn’t sound sad, instead, she sounds resigned.
I wonder what sort of childhood she must have had to hear her father say such horrible things and accept it without question.
The irony of her apologizing to us for not being worth anything isn’t lost on me.
“What the fuck do we do now?” Cyrus hisses as we move further across the room, hoping to discuss a plan without Victoria listening. He paces, head down as he thinks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “We can’t let the girl go now, she’s a liability, and it could be playing into King’s plan if he is bluffing.”
“We can’t kill her,” Hunter says casually, leaning against the wall and folding his arms. Honestly, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, but he’s right.
There’s no way we’d kill her. No matter who her father is, she’s an innocent woman.
Hunter is the most impulsive, dangerous, and reckless out of us, but even he wouldn’t do that.
Cyrus glances over at her and back at me.
“She’s clearly been abused. A parent saying that stuff doesn’t come out of nowhere and just look how easily she accepted it.
” Cyrus is a soft touch, a romantic. Already, I can see that he’s looking at Victoria like a bird with a broken wing, wanting to nurse her back to health.
I’ll have to put a stop to that. Victoria King is the last woman that any of us should get too close to.
She might be beautiful, but she’s still our enemy’s daughter.
“I can hear you, you know,” Victoria says haughtily.
We turn to look at her as she raises an eyebrow at us.
I try not to notice how her breasts strain now that her arms are pulled back behind her and secured by rope.
Suddenly, the image of her naked and similarly tied pops into my mind. Fuck. I shove the thought aside.
Victoria King is off limits, I remind myself.
“Do you have something to say, princess?” I snarl, feeling a wave of unfair anger toward her, as if it’s somehow her fault we’re now in this mess. As if it’s her fault I’m having these conflicting thoughts, as if she’s aware of the effect she’s having on me.
She doesn’t back down or flinch away from my tone.
She stares back at me defiantly. She’s stronger than I gave her credit for.
“I don’t need your pity. But I do need something from you, and I can offer something in return.
You want information on the Raging Bulls?
I have it. You want me to disappear quietly and not return to my father.
I will. But I want something in return.”
“Oh, and what is that?” I ask, intrigued. Considering she’s not exactly in a position to negotiate, I’m mildly impressed by her balls.
She looks me square in the eye. “Protection. A place to stay. And help me disappear when this is over.”
“Protection from who?” Cyrus asks the question I was wondering about, too.
“Who do you think? My father. He might not care enough to pay for me, but if he found out you let me go, or that I’d escaped, he’d try to get me back.
He wants me to marry his VP. Not that I have any say in the matter.
To him I’m just there to pump out babies.
You keep me safe, in return, I’ll tell you everything I know about the Raging Bulls.
” Victoria delivers her speech carefully and confidently, as if she had any bargaining power right now, tied up and held captive. I admire her bravery.
I’ve met Spike before. He’s a sadistic asshole, no wonder she wants to run as far away as she can to avoid being married off to that man.
What sort of father would wish for his young daughter to marry a man over double her age, who has a reputation for beating women?
And a reputation for liking young girls.
It’s a small blessing that Spike didn’t try to marry her sooner.
I just hope he hasn’t already laid his hands on her.
My hands curl into fists at the thought.
I’m not sure who I hate more, Spike or King.
I push my thoughts aside and turn to her, trying to keep my voice neutral. “It’s an intriguing offer, but there’s one problem. If your father cares so little for you, how are we supposed to believe he’d have told you anything important that’s worth bargaining for?”
She flinches a little at the reminder of her father’s indifference, but she doesn’t balk or become flustered; she speaks evenly and calmly, unwavering in her conviction that she has something to offer us in exchange for her freedom.
“He didn’t. Not knowingly. But the value of being invisible means that people often talk as if you’re not there.
I know more about the Raging Bulls than anyone else, even Spike, and I know how my father thinks. I can help you win.”
I turn to Cyrus and Hunter. “What do you think?” I might be Prez of the Ghost Riders, but Cyrus and Hunter are my left and right hands, like brothers to me, and I trust them implicitly.
“I think it’s a good idea. It’s not like we have many other choices,” Cyrus points out. He’s right, but I also knew he’d agree to the plan that frees Victoria. He was the most reluctant to kidnap her in the first place, and that was before we knew what a knockout she was.
I turn to Hunter, and he pulls his focus from Victoria to me. “I agree.” He’s a man of few words, and he doesn’t feel the need to elaborate on why he reached this decision.
Satisfied, I nod, glad that we’re all in agreement.
Victoria might not have a choice, but I’d rather get the information out of her willingly.
Plus, since her father doesn’t seem to care about her, I don’t see how letting her stay with us and helping her disappear could lead to problems. It could be an elaborate ploy to spy on us, but considering they weren’t expecting the ambush, I doubt it.
However, we’ll have to be careful what we say around her and what she sees.
We can’t let ourselves forget who she is.
“Alright, Victoria,” I say, going over to untie her.
I try not to pay attention to how good she smells, floral and vanilla.
She rubs her wrists in surprise as the rope falls away.
She takes my outstretched hand, her fingers slender and delicate, unvarnished and neatly trimmed, the hands of someone who works hard.
She looks up at me with wide, trusting eyes as I remove my balaclava and tell her, “You’ve got yourself a deal. ”