Red Flags (Dirty Billionaires #3)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Annie

T here he is.

Carlton Wilde, a.k.a. the iron fist of the Heathen Kings. The designer suit wrapped around his muscular body has all the girls here sighing and giggling, and when that million dollar smile appears, nervous laughter breaks out all around him.

I swallow against the dryness in my throat. The man is out of everybody’s league, not just mine. Plus, there’s no version of this world in which he’s not marrying the tall, aristocratic blonde on his arm. And not just because that’s who the Elders chose for him, but because he’s an incorruptible member of the highly exclusive Heathen group. It’s a miracle that he even came to the engagement party of his fellow Kings to women they broke the rules for. He was very much against both of those relationships .

As for his fiancée, Rosalind Hayes, what can I say? Her looks match the power attached to her name and, by the way she prances in her impossibly high heels by his side, she knows it. Carlton is tall enough to dwarf her despite her stilettos, which I’m pretty damn sure turns her on. For a moment, I imagine what I would look like at his side. Even in high heels, I’d barely reach his shoulder. I’d look like a schoolgirl next to a sculpted god.

I’ve never been ashamed of my own desires, but I do feel a little stupid watching glossy-skinned models drooling over him. Especially since I have tried everything to get his attention. I even made fake profiles online and sent him nudes—from the neck down, of course, so he wouldn’t recognize me.

“You can still book a night with him, you know,” a familiar voice croaks behind me.

I glance over my shoulder at Doreen Dames—or the Matron, as Mireille likes to call her. She’s cradling a glass of wine in her heavily jeweled hand, her signature long fingernails giving her a distinctly witchy vibe. It’s pretty much her whole thing, really, with that red lipstick, the too-white foundation, and her tattooed eyebrows. She’s chewing gum to cope with her nicotine deficit. She could smoke out on the patio, but I guess she prefers to keep up appearances at this event.

I’m not surprised that Micah invited her along with his bikers. Duke Micah Royales has never made a secret of his scandalous lifestyle as the head of the ravenous pack of beasts that is the Flaming Skulls, nor of his friendship with Doreen, an older woman who arranges for girls like me to have their fantasies fulfilled by pierced, tattooed goons.

Goons whom I just saw in the great hall a few rooms down, drinks in hand, grabbing their cocks and sticking their tongues out at appalled ladies clutching their pearls. A few sorority girls were giggling like horny teenagers as I followed Carlton into the wide open space.

“I can’t afford the fee.”

Doreen’s groan tells me she just rolled her eyes.

“I’d think you’d be done whining by now.”

My eyes remain locked on Carlton, certain he won’t notice me through the crowd .

“It’s my reality,” I say, taking in his smile and chiseled jaw, his skin a very lickable shade of melted caramel.

“Money isn’t the only form of payment I take, you know.” Doreen stands closer behind me now, her voice as insidious as a snake’s hiss. “The Flaming Skulls love themselves a juicy piece of innocent ass.”

“If I was going to pay for something, it would be to lose my virginity to Carlton,” I push out through my teeth.

“And that’s exactly what I’d be happy to help you with.” Her voice is now so subtle that I feel as though I can hear it only inside my head.

“Then what’s my bargaining chip? What can I possibly give you if I don’t have my virginity?” It’s no secret that a girl's virginity is one of the Matron’s favorite currencies. Mireille lost hers—or rather offered it on a golden platter—to the entire biker gang. But that’s what she wanted, and a twisted love affair was born from that event. I still shudder thinking about the guy with the forked tongue and the Viking beard emerging from her room a few days ago .

“I’m sure we can work something out.” Doreen slurps her wine, the grating sound creeping along my skin.

“I can’t go into this blind.” I know better than to leave the terms of our hypothetical agreement at Doreen’s discretion.

“I’m not asking you to.” She leans forward over my shoulder so that her face is now aligned with mine, and we’re both looking at Carlton. “I’m just keeping my eyes on the prize, trying to evaluate its worth.” Then, licking her lips. “Hmmm, he’s delish. So much elegance and ferocity packed into one being. Deadly and devastating, and unattainable for everyone here.” She turns her head to me. “But he could be attainable for you .”

My eyes burn as I stare at him talking to the people around him, and I realize I haven’t blinked in more than a minute. A smile spreads on his face as Rosalind laughs and loops both her arms around one of his. Doreen is right. He’s devastating, especially when he gives the world that million dollar smile that has everyone around him melting .

“If this happens, he can’t know it was me.” I won’t be able to live with it if my identity transpires. Carlton would back off a hundred percent. We never talk, but he doesn’t seem to like me much, probably because of how obvious I’ve been, staring at him in the cafeteria.

“You’d be wearing a mask. He wouldn’t have you without one anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

Her red lips pull into a smile, her red lipstick cracking.

“Do you think Sade and Micah are the only fucked up Kings?” She motions in the general direction of the soon-to-be grooms holding Justine and Eva close to them as if hawks were circling to steal them away. “Look at them. Ready to take on the Incredible fucking Hulk if that’s what it costs to keep their women. Sade would wipe out an entire government for his pretty little poet, and everyone here knows it. That’s why they stare at him in fear, like he’s a ticking time bomb. As for Micah, he took on the Elders, which should have been pure suicide. But Carlton Wilde.” She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, staring in his direction like he’s the crown jewel of her discourse. “He’s something else. Not only a rule follower but a rule enforcer. The golden boy of the Heathen Kings if there ever was one.”

“Yeah, he went ballistic when Sade and Micah chose to go against the Elders.” Which is also why my attention has always annoyed Carlton. He doesn’t care for the infatuations of horny girls who throw themselves at him. If anything, he despises them.

“What you don’t know is who he is behind closed doors.” Doreen’s voice lowers, and the air around us thickens. “For all his strong principles, Carlton Wilde has a shadow side. Your crush is no knight in shining armor, Annie, and the things he likes to do to women aren't for the faint of heart.”

I bite my lip so hard that I taste blood, remembering the smoldering darkness that took over those eyes when he found me crouching in a corner during the mayhem a few months ago. Remembering how he had spirited me away, keeping me safe from the bullets and the knives.

“It’s what I want,” I whisper. “I want him to go feral on me. ”

As feral as he was that night, when he caught one of the Morningstars’ hitmen standing over me with a psychotic grin on his face, blade in hand, looking forward to killing me. The man was rabid with bloodlust. I made myself smaller in the corner, hopeless at the prospect of his next move. But Carlton’s blade slid across his throat from behind.

That moment will haunt me forever.

Blood gushed out in the wake of his knife, and the attacker’s stunned carcass fell to the floor. I knew that, in his last moment, the high was gone, and he was fully aware that trying to harm me was the biggest mistake he’d ever made. Carlton flipped him on his back with the tip of his blood-splattered designer shoe.

Then he looked at me.

The ferocity in his deeply dark eyes, the molten bestiality in them, spoke volumes. He bent down to me and, next thing I knew, I was cradled in his powerful arms, his large hand cupping my head and keeping my face to his chest so I wouldn’t see the mayhem all around us.

But I did see things when he put me down in order to get Micah and Eva out of the lounge study. I threw up for days, and the nightmares haven’t stopped since. There are still nights when I wake up screaming, and the only thing that calms me down is the memory of his scent, the protective warmth of his body, of my cheek pressed to his chest, slick with the blood of the man he killed for me.

He killed for me.

Every time, I lay back down focusing on the memory of him like a mantra.

Carlton’s eyes shift. They find me so quickly that I could swear he’s been aware of my exact position in the room the entire time. His gaze is like smoldering coals, sending heat all over my skin.

“I mean it, Doreen,” I whisper through barely moving lips. “If we do this, he can never know it was me.”

He looks away with that tic pulsing in his jaw, annoyed by the fact that he caught me staring again.

“Don’t worry. We take the utmost care with the delicate nature of these things. Not to mention that he will be very much distracted by your body. He won’t care about who it is behind the mask. You’re exactly his type.” Her breath comes skin-crawlingly close to my ear. “He’s been asking for girls like you lately.”

I angle my head to her. “Girls like me?”

“Mhm.” She slurps from her wine again, then smacks her lips without giving a damn about the aristocrats staring at her in disgust while passing by. “He’s wanted them small and delicate for months. Perky round tits and round ass. Hard to find, that lot. If we play our cards right, he might actually pay for you .”

The idea sends a squirm down my thighs. I like the thought of Carlton paying for me, and not because of the money. But because of what it would mean—that he actually wants me. And being wanted by him is my greatest wish. I want to leave a dent in his memory, a mark in his life that no other woman will be able to erase. If my type is what he’s into, then here’s my chance.

I face Doreen in full, her nicotine-yellowed teeth showing as her lips pull in another grin.

“Name your price.”

** *

Annie

“What were you talking about with that dirty old raven?”

I startle as Eva shoves herself into my field of vision, causing me to choke on the grape I just popped into my mouth.

“That’s no way. To talk. About your future husband’s f-friends,” I manage before I break into a fit of coughing.

Eva slaps my back to help get the grape out of my windpipe.

“That woman is worse than a damn pimp. You should stay the hell away from her.”

“An apology is appropriate,” I say when I can finally breathe again, trying to steer her away from the subject. But this is Eva Brannan. Her piercing blue eyes stab right into the core of the issue.

“What’s your deal with her? What’s she trying to drag you into?”

“She’s not the one dragging me into anything. ”

Eva grabs my elbow and pulls me away from the table where I’d plucked the grapes, shoving me into an alcove.

“Ouch.” I slap her hand away and rub the spot. “What the hell?”

She holds a finger in my face.

“Try that on me one more time, Annie Bunny, and I’ll—”

“I’m not your fucking student, Evita. I’m your bff. You don’t get to treat me like a child.”

“I get to treat you like the silly girl you are, entertaining a dangerous crush, because that’s exactly what Carlton Wilde is.” She gets her beautiful face in mine. She’s been more emotional and sensuous ever since she fell in love with Micah, but her intimidating persona is obviously making a comeback. The fact that she’s about to marry one of the most influential men alive fits her like a glove. “I saw the way he looked at you down the hall when we were helping in the kitchen earlier, and I saw you freeze when you glimpsed Doreen right behind him. They might be hand in hand to drag you into something nasty. ”

I know exactly what moment she’s referring to. My cheeks must be on fire because—fuck my life—my skin always betrays how I feel. It’s not the best add-on to my poor impulse control.

“You’ve already made a deal with her, haven’t you?” Dread spreads over her ivory face. She grabs my arm, and this time she doesn’t let go when I protest. “Have you lost your mind? How could you? You live with Mireille Dupont for Christ’s sakes, you know what happened to her.”

“Mireille paid for the privilege of having a whole gang of bikers unload their dicks in her holes,” I hiss, struggling and failing to get out of Eva’s grip. Noticing us from across the ballroom, Justine and Mel start to make their way toward us. I hurry to get the words out under my breath before I have to explain myself to the whole fucking board of banshees. “And if you must know then, yeah, I made a deal with her. And before you fucking chastise me, let me remind you that I was on your side when both Mel and Justine grilled you for getting yourself involved with Micah. ”

Her eyes flash and narrow. “That was different. ”

I burst into laughter, but I drop the subject because Mel and Justine are now within hearing range.

If Eva has always been the goddess among us, her skin white as alabaster and her eyes like jewels, Mel would make a perfect queen one day. Everything about her is noble, from the features of her face to her perfectly shiny chestnut hair and the way she wears her pearls. Justine is every bit the diaphane poetess her fiancé Sade always saw her as, with her golden locks and dreamy caramel eyes. When her lashes fall to hood those eyes, the vicious Sade Royales melts into a puddle at her feet. She is his only soft spot, just like Eva is Micah’s. Everyone thought the two brothers didn’t have hearts. Turns out they don’t, not inside their chests. Their hearts are beating outside their bodies, and they’re now cramming me into the alcove.

“I should go help Auntie Rita.” I try to breach their wall, but they tighten the ranks.

“Mrs. Jones is doing perfectly fine without you,” Justine says.

I roll my eyes. “This is an intervention, isn’t it?”

“It sure as fuck is,” Eva hisses .

They escort me to the small vestibule just outside the alcove, and from there to a sunroom, Mel closing the door behind us.

I fold my arms across my chest and tap my foot against the floor, but don’t protest. I won’t have to put up with this for too long anyway. There’s no chance in hell Sade and Micah are going to tolerate being separated from their brides for longer than twenty minutes.

Justine sits down in a high-backed chair, staring up at me with softness in those eyes as she invites me to take a seat. I grudgingly plop down into a chair angled toward her.

“We need to have a serious talk about Carlton,” she begins sweetly.

“It’s not like you signed a contract with that woman, so no damage has been done,” Eva puts in before I get to say anything, dragging a chair to join us. “You can still back out.”

“ You haven’t signed anything with that woman ,” I mock before I slap my hands on the cushioned arms of my chair. “She’s not the fucking sea witch, and I haven’t promised her my voice. So there’s no need for drama.”

“But you did promise her your virginity,” Mel probes carefully.

“No.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Not technically.” Then I crack. “I promised her I’d give it to Carlton for her benefit.” Fuck, I’ll never be able to lie to these witches.

Mel shakes her head like I just confessed to murder, and Justine stares like I’ve just announced the end of the world.

“You should have come to us before making a decision like that,” Eva insists. “They call Doreen Dames mother of demons for a reason. As for Carlton, he’s not one of your book boyfriends, Annie Bunny, even if he looks the part. He’s a giant asshole in real life, with entire armies at his command. If he finds out what you have planned, he’ll make you regret it.”

I scoff. “Wow. That’s rich, coming from the woman who plunged head-first into an affair with the baddest daredevil on campus.”

“Excuse me, honey.” Eva’s voice drips with warning. “Micah never gave me a choice. If I had one, I sure as hell wouldn’t have ever made the first move, which you’re very much aware of.” Her ivory cheeks turn a shade of pink. “Not that I regret anything.”

“Okay, that was a low blow,” I admit, even though I have a whole slew of arguments ready. “But you know how I feel about Carlton. And I’m not delusional, I know perfectly well that I can’t have him. Not for real. But he’s the first man I’ve ever madly desired. I can’t imagine giving myself to anyone else. And this is my chance to lose my virginity to him.”

“No offense, but have you ever thought about why you want him so badly?” Mel puts in. “You’ve been reading those books where the bad guy falls for the pure, innocent girl, and it’s all sexy and exciting in fiction, but it’s not how things work in real life.” She pauses, but I know what she means to say before she says it. “What happened with Sade and Justine, and Micah and Eva, that was just a stroke of luck.”

I know. But I am hoping for the same stroke, even though I wouldn’t give fate all the credit for Justine’s and Eva’s love stories.

Do I wish a miracle would happen to make Carlton fall in love with me ?

Hell yeah.

Do I actually expect it to happen?

I’m a dreamer, but I’m not stupid.

“He’s not going to know who it is behind the mask,” I whisper, my eyes darting to the closed doors. There’s murmur outside of them, and even though I know they’re too thick to let anything of what’s being discussed here be overheard, verbalizing my plan gives me the jitters.

“A mask?” Justine shrieks.

“You have to back out.” Eva keeps an almost inhuman composure. “If she’s keeping your identity hidden from Carlton, then he’ll have no way to protect you if things—”

“I don’t need his protection.” I dart up to my feet. “I want him to lose control, it’s why I’m doing this. I want him go feral fucking me. I’m fucking fed up with this. You’re my bffs, my ride-or-die bitches. You’re supposed to have my back.”

“This is us having your back,” Eva says, blue eyes trying to pin me back down to the cushioned chair.

“You know,” I start, tilting my head so I can look straight into her intelligent blue eyes. “I learned a few things back in Alabama—how to fake my accent to fit in, and how to reach out and grab what I want in life, in any shape or form I can get it. I don’t come from a rich family. No one is going to lay anything at my feet unless I do something about it. To my mom and dad, Aunt Rita who works at this mansion as a cook is fucking royalty. Me? I’m just a girl with a knack for technology, whose skills Norton King’s College saw good use for. Some would say that I won the lottery at the time I got accepted. My talents wouldn’t have meant much back in the 1950s, and the best I could have hoped for was a husband with an office job. But in order to get accepted at Norton King’s, I had to sign off my first ten years on the labor market to the highest bidder, did you know that? And we all know, once the elites of Norton King’s set their sights on you, their control is where your career goes to die. They’ll have me in a chokehold for the rest of my life.” I scoff when my friends stare at me with widening eyes. “Of course, you didn’t know any of that. I didn’t exactly lead with it because I didn’t want—or need—your pity. But I do need your support, your understanding, your kindness and your acceptance. Instead, what I get is judgment. ”

“No one is judging you,” Justine says, leaning forward to grab my hand, but I yank it out of her reach. “We’re just terrified of what might happen.”

“Carlton’s kinks are nasty, Annie,” Eva cautions. “Micah says he makes him and Sade look like Santa Claus.”

“I’m well aware of what Carlton likes,” I say quietly, looking away from them, toward the window. The light of dusk filters through the big windows that open out into the rose garden. “I saw it in the group chats he shares with other guys.”

“How the hell did you get yourself into those groups?” Mel inquires.

“I did what was necessary.”

“You shared nudes of yourself?” Justine presses. My head snaps to her, and our eyes collide.

“From the neck down. Using toys on myself.” There’s something oddly satisfying about the stunned look on her face, and for a moment I’m tempted to tell them about how I tied my feet to the bed posts first. My toe nails were painted rose red, just the way Carlton likes it, and a thick-girthed dildo was shoved as deep inside me as my virgin pussy would allow. “I sent a few GIFs of me masturbating, too.”

“You know the nasty assholes in those chat rooms can track you down if they want to, don’t you?” Mel puts in, calm like an ocean with a storm brewing underneath.

I give her a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “Again—remember how I got accepted at Norton King’s, honey.”

There’s silence for a few long moments because there’s nothing they can say to that.

I’m an ace at all things cyber. It’s how I got the attention of the Norton King’s technology department. All I need is a decent laptop and wi-fi, and I’ll breach the firewalls of any corporation.

Not the firewalls of official defense systems, not yet. Those are put in place by people like the Kings and their armies of experts, one of which I will become one day. I was good, and I expected to draw the right people’s attention, really. What I didn’t expect was to get a room at the sorority house.

I’ll admit it was flattering as fuck when Mireille approached me. It meant she found me hot enough for the cheerleading team, but my dancing skills wouldn’t carry me—thank God. The entire stadium’s attention would have crushed me. Even though it would have meant that Carlton watched me, too. But Mireille was never sorry that she gave me a chance. She treats me no differently than she does her mother’s chihuahua. She considers me just as cute with my “small button nose” that she likes to press.

Mireille has been more supportive of my attraction to Carlton than any of my ride-or-die bitches. During our midnight talks, she actually made me feel like I had a chance to make him fall in love with me.

Maybe she was just feeding my delusions, but it sure felt good.

Which reminds me…

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” I tell them. “And I don’t appreciate my best friends making me feel so damn inadequate.”

“For heaven’s sake, Annie, that’s not what we’re trying to do here.” Mel comes over and takes my hands. “Look at me. Look at us all. We’re your sisters. We would die for you if we had to, you know this. ”

I’m fully aware that my look is dripping with suspicion and reproach, but I also recognize the worry written on their faces. Mel is right. Deep down, I do know. They’ll be here for me in any way I need them to be.

And they’re also right about Carlton.

He’s beyond Sade’s brand of wicked sadism or Micah’s unhinged psycho personality. On the outside, he’s more controlled than both of them. He’s disciplined and impossible to sway. He’s also a mountain of a man, a collection of brutally trained muscles covered with tattoos that describe his kills, symbolically marking the way he slaughtered his enemies—beyond fucking sinister.

He’s a dangerously controlled killer with an influential seat at the Pentagon waiting for him when he graduates. A lethal force wrapped in icy control and Armani suits that I shouldn’t even dream about. Yet I want him. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, even more than I wanted to get out of my dead-end of a hometown.

Besides, I see an honorable man in him too, and that isn’t helping my cause. Knowing that he only picks on villains his own size, that his goal is to rid the world of tyrants, warmongers, and vermin who abuse power, makes me want to offer my virginity to him on a golden platter. To let him use it and abuse it, and have all the guys in those nasty group chats watch, too. Hell, he could do a live of how he’s destroying my virgin pussy with his meanass cock, and I’d come all over it.

“You know what, Annie, you’re right,” Justine says softly, rising from her chair and walking to me. Her shoulders sag a little, her entire body language saying, it’s-now-out-of-our-hands. “What you’re going to do about Carlton is your decision. If you give him your virginity, then so be it. We’ll be here to catch you if you fall.”

“And to support you in any way you need us to,” Mel adds, looping her arm around mine. “If push comes to shove, we’ll be your safety net. You can land softly with us.”

“Except we all know there’s no safety net when it comes to the Kings,” Eva says, her gaze hooded with worry. She’s the last to close ranks around me, her arms resting on my shoulders and Justine’s, creating a chain between us.

For the first time since we’ve gotten close to the Kings, things feel right. I didn’t even realize how much I missed my bffs until this moment.

But, surprisingly, the feeling isn’t enough.

Until a few months ago, slumber parties with them were all I needed to feel happy. Cracking gross jokes about cock, snort-laughing and sometimes drinking until we got shit-faced had made me feel loved and whole. But now, all of that does nothing to still the craving that gnaws at me. That gnawing won’t stop until he subjects me completely to his lust, even if it tears me apart.