Unshackle (Deliver 7)

There would be others hidden somewhere on the property—the untouched virgins who were freshly captured, full of fight, and caged like livestock. They were the forbidden flesh. The highest price tags. The ones who would be sold and sent home with guests.

Despite Luke’s filthy dark appetite for sex, he only wished to free them. But that wasn’t his purpose here.

His target was Vera.

Why would she want any part of this? Didn’t she miss her sister? He knew her background, her education, her life story. She hadn’t been raised in an abusive household or neglected by an unloving family. What was her motivation to be here? Money? Power? Or was she in trouble? Maybe she was being blackmailed, and her participation was all smoke and mirrors?

After surviving his own captivity and learning the tragic truth behind his captors, Van and Liv, he knew that not everything was as it seemed. The quickest way to the truth was to get close to this woman and coax her to talk.

She waited a few paces ahead, studying her fingernails as if the scene in the library had no effect on her. Maybe it didn’t, but he needed to test her.

A pretty Latina emerged in the hallway, carrying a stack of towels. Eyes directed at the floor, she strode by without looking up.

He grabbed her arm, halting her. “How old are you?”

“Whatever age you want me to be.” Her mousy voice matched the downward gaze.

“Show me.”

She set the towels on a chair behind her and reached for the neckline of her simple maid frock. A zipper ran down the front, which she pulled to the hem, fully opening the dress and revealing nothing beneath. Designed for easy access.

Stepping into him, she set her feet shoulder-length apart and put her hairless cunt next to his hand at his side. He only needed to twitch his fingers to feel her heat, tease her open, and sink inside.

He should do it. Make it look like he was interested. It was exactly what was expected of him.

But her age was questionable, and that doubt dumped ice water in his veins, holding him immobile.

“If it pleases Mr. Smith,” Vera said, nudging the girl back, “you’ll be sent to his room later. Go on now. Finish your work.”

The girl grabbed the towels and made a soundless, obedient exit. He kept his eyes on Vera, watching for something, anything, that might betray her thoughts.

She met his gaze with an unreadable expression. Impenetrable brown eyes. The stare-off stretched for a few seconds too long. Then her lips parted. A flush rose on her neck. Lashes fluttered, and her gaze pulled down and to the side.

Submissive. Aroused. Yeah, she definitely found him attractive. If he snapped his fingers, would she lower to her knees and service his cock?

“That girl wouldn’t please me.” He lifted her chin with a knuckle, guiding her eyes to his. “She’s too young. Too…passive.”

“Noted.” She turned on her heels and exited the breezeway, stepping into the foyer of a connecting building.

He followed at a leisurely stroll, admiring the way her ass swayed. As Tomas trailed, Luke refrained from stealing another glance at his friend. Too many exchanged looks would invite suspicion from whomever monitored those cameras.

“Here we are.” She stopped at the first door and inserted a key card.

The lock buzzed open.

Subtle hostility stiffened her movements. Was she jealous of his interaction with the girl? Annoyed? Tired of men hitting on her? No woman looked as good as she did without constant male attention. Especially not in this haven for perverts.

He played the part, leaning in and letting his breath brush her cheek. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re neither too young nor too passive. It would please me to have you sent to my room later.”

“Handsome and direct.” She pushed through the doorway and into a large private sitting room. “Two bedrooms. Kitchenette. Only one bathroom, but its ample size should be sufficient to share with your assistant.”

“Bodyguard.”

“You don’t need those services here.”

Tomas ambled away to investigate the rooms. Standing in the entrance, Luke already spotted multiple cameras. Probably equipped with microphones. The guests had no privacy, and the cartel wasn’t even trying to hide it.

She launched into a spiel about the amenities. Room service, personal butler, spa, unlimited alcohol, computer, cell phone, and Internet.

“Communication with outside parties is allowed on our devices.” She led him into the enormous bathroom. “What do you do exactly? For work?”

“I’m a silent investor.”

“And you invest in…?”

“Emphasis on silent.”

“Very well. I advise using that same discretion if you conduct business here. Every message you send and receive, every call you make, will be monitored to ensure the safety of our guests and organization.”

“In other words, you’re recording everything I do, from the women I fuck to the transactions I make on-line. That’s your insurance, yeah? If I piss you guys off, you’ll use whatever dirt you have on me as blackmail.”