Grayson’s sharp scoff fills the silence, but the guys ignore it as they keep their stares on me. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cruz murmurs, leaning in and brushing a soft kiss over my cheek. “There’s enough food here to feed a fucking army. Go sit down and I’ll get you something.”
He releases my waist and walks away before I get the chance to argue, and I’m left with no choice but to walk over to the massive couch and sink into it. “I suppose I owe you all an apology,” I say, my eyes slicing up and meeting Carver’s before flicking to King’s and then leaving Grayson for last, knowing that Cruz is listening to every word from the kitchen. “I may have judged you all too soon and maybe a little too harshly. You literally saved my life last night and I’d done absolutely nothing to deserve that, so thanks.”
Carver just nods as Grayson’s eyes seem to narrow further, probably assuming my apology isn’t genuine, but he should know that apologies don’t come naturally to me.
King’s arm falls over the back of the massive couch opposite mine. “We weren’t about to let you stay there. Who the fuck knows what could have happened to you.”
My gaze flicks up to his. “I just … I don’t get it. How did you know where to find me? Hell, how did you even know I was gone?”
King anxiously glances across at Carver and I realize that he’s the one running this show, the one with all the answers. “You were gone. No one could find you, and when Ember explained that you didn’t come back to get your bike, we knew something was up. It wasn’t hard to connect all the pieces. Once Sam was interested in you, it was like following breadcrumbs.”
I look away, unable to handle his stare for too long. “So, what now?” I ask, looking down at my hands, the question swirling around my head but being too afraid to actually voice it. “You just … own me?”
I can’t help but glance back up at him just in time to see him slowly shaking his head. “No, not exactly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Not exactly? It’s either a yes or a no?”
Carver looks nervously at all the guys who look anywhere but at me. His gaze finally slices back to mine with a defeated expression across his handsome face. “I don’t own you,” he says slowly. “Dynasty does.”
My brows instantly fly up as Cruz comes waltzing back into the room, placing a plate of something down beside me, but Carver’s comments have my full attention. I can’t even look down to figure out what Cruz gave me. “Umm … what?” I ask. “I thought that was just some bullshit rumor.”
The boys all shake their heads. “Definitely not a rumor,” King says, a strange tone in his voice, one that I can’t quite decipher.
“Then what? What the fuck is Dynasty?” The guys’ sly glances between each other instantly get on my nerves and I snap. “Stop with the fucking bullshit and give it to me straight. Whatever the fuck Dynasty now owns me and I deserve to know what the fuck it is. So, if you’re not going to tell me, then step aside and I’ll figure it out on my own.”
Carver lets out a sigh as Grayson groans, being the one to find the balls to come out with the information I need. “Dynasty isn’t something that we can just go around talking about. We’re all bound by secrecy, but what we can tell you is that it’s a family business that goes back generations. There isn’t one particular thing we do, we’re just … everywhere. Always silently working behind the scenes.”
I fall back against the chair, slowly scanning my gaze past each of them. “Family business, huh?” I say with a scoff. “So, not just Carver owns me, but you all fucking own me? Great, just fucking great.”
“It’s not like that,” Cruz says, reaching across the couch and pushing the plate of food closer to my leg. “It’s more complicated than that. We don’t own you; we just footed the bill to get you the fuck out of there. You’re completely free to go if that’s what you want to do.”
I glance at Carver who nods, and for some reason, the thought of him agreeing that I can walk out of here whenever the hell I want cuts deep like a knife. “So, tell me this,” I say, finally glancing down at the plate to find it piled high with spaghetti bolognese, my favorite meal. “Does this Dynasty make it their business to be involved in sex trafficking deals?”
Carver shakes his head. “No, but when your name is put on a list that’s sent out to purchasers, I fucking made it my business.”