Unbroken 2

Leo shrugged, looking back at him. “Business is good.”

Carl nodded, and they ate. The banter was surface deep. They were getting the pleasantries out of the way. Carl would find a secluded spot after their meal where he would smoke his cigar and chat to Leo about doing real business.

That was how it usually went, anyway. Proper etiquette and all.

But Carl seemed antsy throughout the meal. Ellen yammered away about some island retreat, and he pretended to follow along, but his gaze ventured from Leo to Skye, lingered on Skye and then went back to Leo. Carl’s lips formed a smirk as he made eye contact with him, tilting his head at her.

Leo was chewing on a piece of steak when Carl leaned forward, lowering his voice to say, “Where did you find her?”

Leo’s chews slowed as he looked back at Carl. “I didn’t.”

Carl glanced fleetingly at his wife before he whispered back, “I’ve heard things about the Dungeon.”

Now Leo looked around, shaking his head. “We don’t talk about business in public.”

“I just want to know what she’s like.”

Leo’s brows furrowed as he looked questioningly at the man. “I’m not following, Carl.”

Carl’s smirk was still present, his excitement bleeding out of him as he said, “I hear you can make them do anything. No holds barred. Once you’re premium, anything goes.”

“Skye isn’t Cattle,” Leo gritted out quietly.

Carl didn’t believe him. “But she is. I’ve seen her face.”

Blood drained from Leo's face. “What did you say?”

Carl laughed. “I’ve seen her face—I know she’s one.”

“Where have you seen her face?”

The rich dick glanced at Skye, and there was that predatory look in his eye when he answered, “The faces of the Cattle are often circulated—”

“Where did you see her face?” Leo demanded once more.

“We get messages about them. Pictures.” Now Carl pointed at Skye. “Her face was one of them. Can’t forget a face like that.” He made a grunting sound. “You’re a lucky man, Leo, to be so close to that action. And to bring her out—”

But his words drowned out as Leo’s blood whooshed in his ears.

It suddenly made sense why Carl was adamant to have dinner. The second he’d seen them, his gaze had lingered on Skye, and Leo had mistook it for curiosity.

It wasn’t.

And now he was staring at her again.

He was staring at her like—like—like she was fucking Cattle.

Heat swept through Leo, and he erupted.

His fist swung across the table, slamming right into the side of Carl’s face, sending him flying to the ground in a heap. Ellen screamed—or fucking tried to with all that plastic. Other diners gasped and cried out as Leo stood up, his knuckles aching, his chest heaving as he stared down at the unconscious man. He spat out the last of the steak in his mouth onto the floor and held his hand out to Skye.

She had sat in her chair, completely still, eyes wide.

This girl and her delayed reactions.

“Skye,” he gritted out, breathlessly.

She took his hand a beat later.