Restrained Under His Duty (Dirty Little Secrets 3) - Page 7

“You’re welcome. Now hurry up, you have a meeting in ten minutes.”

He swats at the air, as he usually does when I’m hurrying him along, and grumbles something incoherent as he leaves the office.

In the silence, as my coworkers stride by my office door, my mind circles back to what he said: I don’t think a princess is one of them. He’s right—I’ve never been a princess. I’ve always stood on my own two feet. I’ve made my own choices. And I’ve never had a single thing handed to me.

I can’t run scared because of this threat. I need to fight back. Now how to do that?

Ryder instantly comes to mind. He would fix this for me. Hell, he’s the guy I know would remove any threat facing me down, not out of duty but because they dared to put me in danger.

Only problem: He’s the last person I want to know about that video.

Ryder

Later that evening, with my workday behind me, I park my bright blue Ram truck in between the sleek Audi and the Bentley in front of the old factory that’s home to Blackwood Security. Tonight, I have no intention of walking around to the front and checking in with my staff. The day has been long and my mind is lingering very close to exhaustion. I need to jerk off and get Hadley finally off my mind, and then I need to sleep to ensure I stay sharp around her.

I sigh and exit my truck, catching the voices coming from the back door of the factory. I move toward them, and beneath the lighting above the door, I find three imposing men, Micah Holt, Gabe O’Keefe, and Darius Bennett.

Tonight Micah and Darius wear their normal tailored suits while Gabe sticks to tradition as the outcast of the group, wearing dark jeans and a black T-shirt with O’KEEFE’S PUB written across the front. His dark brown hair is messily styled, and by all appearances, you’d never know he’s nearly as rich as the others.

To the public, these are the most powerful men in San Francisco. To me, they’re longtime friends, full of adventure, and like me push life’s limits and enjoy wild sex. Or maybe that was what we were in our twenties more than now.

As a group of twenty-year-olds, we formed a secret society we called the Dominants’ Council. If that name alone didn’t show our egos, the number of women we’ve shared under that title would. But they weren’t just any women. They were submissive women who attended the four sex clubs we own in the city. Promiscuous sex was the endgame.

But now, things have changed.

We are at a crossroads. Each one of us is choosing a different direction, and life is changing, as we all knew at some point it would.

With our responsibilities to our jobs, what the Dominants’ Council stood for, and our clubs, took a back seat. Now with the threat of someone recording our private conversations to print our dirty little secrets, the change in our priorities and the lack of involvement with our clubs couldn’t have come at a better time. We have to be cautious in what we do.

First, the tabloid Gotcha! went after Micah. Then they printed stories about Darius. Now I’m their focus. I can only imagine Gabe’s grimly anticipating his turn. But with each story that passes, I’m slowly getting closer to the person selling us out. I can’t stop until I find and remove the threat. Because what’s worse than the tabloid printing false stories is them printing real ones. Private parts of our lives that we don’t want the world to know.

As I approach, the first to greet me is Gabe. “About time you got here.”

“Sorry I’m late,” I reply, and they part, letting me step in closer to the door. I press my thumb against the fingerprint scanner. One beep later, the door unlatches and I open it, letting the others enter first before I step inside my house. I flick on the lights and move into the open-concept loft. “It’s been a long day.”

“Does your long day have anything to do with our problem?” Micah asks, following closely behind me.

“It just might,” I admit, heading toward the kitchen bar, outfitted with a black marble countertop. The men take their seats on the leather couches in my living room, while I grab four beers from the fridge. As I walk back to join them, I hand out the beers and drop down into the recliner, cracking open my own. “A theory is beginning to present itself.”

Darius tosses his beer cap onto the coffee table and runs a hand through his brown hair. “What theory?”

I take a big, long gulp of my beer, relishing the crisp brew before addressing them again. “Earlier tonight, I had a chat with the senator. He’s facing some corruption in Washington.”

Eyebrows drawn over his sharp hazel eyes, Gabe asks, “Which has to do with us because…?”

It took Darius becoming the tabloids’ focus to discover the recording devices, and that only happened because he realized something he’d said at Gabe’s pub was printed in the magazine nearly word for word. But now I’ve discovered a new layer to this madness. “I know we thought this was personal, but I’m beginning to think the tabloids and the bugs have nothing to do with any of you,” I state.

Obviously catching on, Micah leans back against the couch, beer resting on the armrest. “You’re thinking someone’s after the senator?”

I nod and explain, “It’s the most logical assumption that I can come up with. Whoever is behind this must have money, considering the equipment they used.” When I’d first discovered the bugs in Gabe’s bar after Darius’s revelation, I found high-tech listening devices that I highly doubted a grocery store tabloid would have at their disposal. “And they had to have a good reason for wanting to bug us. I cannot fathom that anyone we know would be behind this simply for the money they’d get paid for the info.” Also, because no one that we personally knew seemed to be behind this. “There needs to be another motive.” I pause and let them in on what I’ve thought through. “The truth is, before all this started, none of our lives were that interesting.”

Gabe snorts and grins. “Speak for yourself.”

“Which actually only proves my point,” I add. “The tabloids should have focused on you first. Your life is one of women and excitement.” To Micah, I say, “You were single for a long time, only recentl

y dating Allie.” Who is also Darius’s baby sister.

“That’s true,” Micah comments.

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