Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Get her out of here, Ash,” Hunter ordered.
Katya’s rambling broke into shallow gasps of panic. Her hands shook so violently she had to clench them to her stomach to still them.
Ash, always the nurturer, was beside her instantly, gathering her into his arms as if she were a child. “It’s okay. He can’t get to you.”
Marigold went to her friend and hugged her tight. “Big breath in, Katya.” She breathed with her friend. “Now, blow it out small.” Her lips formed a small oh. “Just right.”
Katya repeated the breathing, nodding in appreciation as her panic slowly calmed.
“Go with Ash. Go back to your room. And the next time you see us, this will all be over.”
Ash’s stare met hers over his sister’s head, his eyes filled with admiration as he mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
Then his attention jerked to the monitors, the shift in his expression crystal clear. The enemy had landed in their territory, and a reckoning was about to begin. Katya’s response only further cemented the need for justice. But it also meant, with Katya taking a step back, the endgame might come down to her testimony alone.
Panic welled up inside of her, but she shoved it back down. For Katya, and all the other girls Jordan hurt, she would be strong. And afterwards, when she fell to pieces, her three bears would put her back together again.
Chapter 20
Acts of Contrition
Jordan entered the lodge like he owned it.
Marigold watched from the hidden observation room as her half-brother strode through the front doors with the casual arrogance of a man who’d never been told no. Tall, golden-haired, and devastatingly handsome in his tailored Savile Row suit, he moved with the fluid confidence of someone who believed the world existed for his pleasure.
Behind him followed his entourage—a sharp-eyed lawyer in designer glasses, two private security consultants who looked like former military, and a man with a medical bag who could only be the bought and paid for psychiatrist meant to declare her mentally incompetent.
Stone appeared to greet them, immaculate in a designer black suit. His hair was perfectly styled, his expression professionally neutral. “Mr. Calder. Welcome to Kassel. I’m Stone Volkov, manager of The Preserve. We spoke on the phone.” He shook Jordan’s hand with firm confidence.
Jordan’s handshake was aggressive, designed to establish dominance. Marigold had seen him do it a thousand times, the slight squeeze too hard, the moment held too long, the way he pulled others off balance like an insecure dictator wannabe with a small dick.
But Stone didn’t move an inch further than intended and maintained higher ground through the brief exchange until Jordan let go, shaking his fingers to regain feeling.
“Quiet tonight.” His exaggerated posh accent carried clearly through the speakers. His pale blue gaze, so like their father’s, swept the foyer with calculating assessment.
“We thought a private setting might be more fitting tonight.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Where are the women?”
“The Aurelius family is hosting their monthly gala.” Stone’s smile was sharp. “But don’t worry. We’ve arranged something special just for you.”
Jordan’s eyes lit with interest. “You have my attention.”
“Everything you need is in the playroom. But first, we must discuss the terms of your membership.”
Jordan’s brows lifted with cocky arrogance. “We’ll see how the night goes.”
Stone didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back. Didn’t give Jordan the reaction he was fishing for.
“Quite a setup you have here,” Jordan continued, strolling deeper into the lodge without invitation. “Private islands, exclusive memberships. You must cater to some very particular tastes. How many members did you say you had?”
“I didn’t.”
“Regardless, it’s nice to find a gentleman’s club that values discretion.”
Hunter loomed behind them in silence, his lethal stare trained on Jordan like the scope of an AR. One wrong move, and Jordan would exist no more.
“Our clients understand the rules. We provide discrete accommodations,” Stone replied, playing up the role of ultimate host. “Consensual play and privacy are our specialty.”
“Privacy.” Jordan’s smile was sharp. “I imagine you see all sorts of... interesting behavior. Rich men with their hobbies and obsessions. Money does strange things to people, doesn’t it?”
There was condescension in his tone, the subtle superiority of someone who believed himself above whatever degeneracy he imagined took place here. He was already categorizing Stone and his brothers as lesser beings, service providers for the truly wealthy.
“Indeed,” Stone agreed mildly. “Shall we cut to the chase, Mr. Calder?”
“Which is?”
“Your sister’s situation.” Stone glanced back at his silent entourage. “Your guests won’t be permitted past this point.”
Surprised by Stone’s directness, Jordan shifted gears. “I like a man who gets right to business.”
“I understand you’re concerned about her welfare.”
“Concerned?” Jordan laughed, the sound rigid like breaking glass. “I’m fucking terrified. My sister’s been unwell for some time. Delusional episodes, paranoid fantasies. When she disappeared from her care facility, I feared the worst.”
The lie rolled off his tongue with practiced ease. Marigold’s hands clenched into fists as she watched him execute a flawless performance, despite never wasting an ounce of true concern on her.