Cuffed by His Charm (Dirty Little Secrets 4)

Marcus inclines his head, and his voice is as smooth as silk

when he adds, “This is a family matter, and Gabe O’Keefe is not your family.”

Admittedly, for a second, I sigh in relief that at least Marcus is admitting to having Evan. It makes me feel one step closer to him. I force myself not to get lost in the thousand questions I want to ask, and stay on point. “Is my brother alive?”

“For now, yes,” Marcus replies.

“For now?” I repeat, steadying myself for the conversation ahead. “Have you hurt him?”

“‘Hurt’ is an interesting word, isn’t it?” Marcus asks, lacing his hands on his lap. “What is your definition of ‘hurt’?”

“Injured, bleeding, needing a hospital.”

Marcus glances at Tommy. “Would you say that Evan’s state is within Ms. Archer’s definition?”

Tommy chuckles darkly. “Perhaps.”

I clench my hands on my lap, grit my teeth. I don’t want to play these games, and I want far away from these men. “You asked me here privately to talk, so talk. What do I need to do to get my brother out of this situation?”

Marcus regards me coolly. “Here is the thing, Ms. Archer. Your brother has become a problem for me. I don’t like problems.”

“You and me both, Mr. Draken,” I reply. “But do explain, what trouble has he gotten himself into?”

“He has taken a great deal of my money and cannot return what he’s taken.” Marcus’s brows lift. “Therein is the problem.”

“It’s only a problem if he can’t pay it all,” I say. “I will help him. Therefore, the problem is gone.”

Marcus smiles; it isn’t friendly. “Ah, yes, I’m aware that you think you can help him out of this.” He crosses his legs, hands on top, and adds, “I admit, Ms. Archer, that when I became aware of Evan’s debt to me, I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle him.”

Hot fury descends on my body, my nails digging into my palms. “I saw what you decided to do to him at the hotel.”

Marcus chuckles. “My men sometimes have a little too much fun, don’t they?”

Masculine laughter fills the room, reminding me that I am in a place I shouldn’t be, surrounded by three very strong men. But there’s something to their laughter, like I’m a toy, a plaything for them to swat around. I glance at both the doors in this room, and know with the other guard and Tommy, there’s no way I’m getting out of this room. “What exactly do you want from me?” I ask again, gritting my teeth.

“I want my money that your brother has taken from me, Ms. Archer.” Marcus stands and moves to the bar in a corner of the room, taking out the scotch and pouring himself a glass. “I know for a fact that you don’t have the funds to pay me what your brother owes me.”

I hold my breath. “How much does he owe?”

“Fifty thousand.”

“Fifty thousand,” I repeat, exhaling, trying to let that sink in.

“Well…” Marcus smiles over his shoulder. “Forty and change, plus interest, so yes, fifty thousand.”

It feels like a hundred-pound weight is pressing against my chest. The reality is, I can’t pay that money. For the first time ever, I’m not thinking about my brother’s safety, I’m thinking of mine. Because right now, as Marcus raises his glass to his mouth and takes a sip of his top-shelf scotch, I realize I’m a pawn in a greater plan.

“You are maxed with your finances,” Marcus continues, “and therefore, unable to pay Evan’s debt. Which brings us back to your brother owing me money that won’t be paid.” His gaze rakes me from head to toe. “To be perfectly honest, Ms. Archer, even if I feel that perhaps you could work the money off at the club, it’s a large amount.”

I glare at him. “I. Am. Not. Working. For. You.”

The side of his mouth arches, eyes twinkle with dark intentions. “Ah, a pity, nonetheless but we are still at an impasse. Your brother owes me a large amount of money, and I expect it paid.”

Realizing the situation before me, I shut my eyes, trying to think, come up with a plan, anything to get Evan and myself out of this. When I open my eyes again, I say the only thing I can. “You’re going to have to give me some time to come up with the money.”

“Time is not what you need. Money is what you need,” Marcus says, returning to his seat and crossing one ankle over his knee, his glass resting on the armchair. “Believe me, I’ve had my people look at this from every angle. You won’t pay this debt. And I know you already refinanced your condo.”

I had refinanced to pay Evan’s last debt. “You looked through my private financial records?” I ask.