Bred by the Bully (Breeding Season 8)

But since Nigel was a major factor, she could blame her choice on her brother. She was doing the right thing. Nothing more. Drake didn’t need to know she enjoyed the idea of being owned by him. The way he’d touched her in the office was farther than she’d gotten with any man in her life. At thirty, that was pathetic. And no one would even believe she was a virgin.

That was fine with her.

It was embarrassing to admit she had no social life and no experience with men. Every time she tried to get close to a new guy, her nerves would fire up so bad that she’d make a fool of herself. Drake was familiar, even if in a negative context, so she didn’t fumble the same way. He took control so she didn’t have to do anything but follow his lead.

She turned off her cell phone at the next red light. Maybe if she ignored Drake, all her problems would magically go away. Mira sighed, tapping her fingers as she waited for the light to change. When the light turned green, the car in front of her didn’t move. She gave him a courtesy honk, but still nothing.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Mira honked twice, then checked her blind spot to see if she could veer around his car. But the guy in front got out of the vehicle. He was huge with a facial tattoo. Why did she honk so many times? Her heart began to pump wildly in her chest as he approached her driver’s side window.

He stood there, waiting for her to roll it down. Should she ignore him? Call the police?

She lowered the window down just a couple of inches.

“There’s a call for you,” he said, holding out a cell phone.

Mira narrowed her eyes, completely confused. She took the phone through the crack in the glass.

Tentatively, she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re hard to get a hold of, sweetheart.” It was Drake. His voice deep, calm, and controlled.

“What’s happening right now? Who is this guy and how did you know where I was?”

“I had you tailed. What would you do in my shoes? I have a lot of money riding on your brother,” he said. “You have a short memory.”

“I remember.”

“It’s been two days. I expect an answer today by eight o’clock, or I’ll collect on my debt.”

She should have answered his calls. Hiding from her problems wouldn’t make them go away. “Okay.” Mira checked her watch. It was four o’clock. Only four more hours of freedom. “I’ll call you before that.”

“No, you’ll come to my office before that. I don’t do business on the telephone, Mira.”

“Fine.” She hung up and slipped the phone through the window to Drake’s henchman.

He returned to his car and drove away just before the light turned red again.

This was it. Tonight, she’d have to sign over her life to Drake Eastwood and become his own personal breeding vessel. She never even thought much about having kids until she turned thirty recently. Her days for motherhood were growing fewer and it made her think of life passing her by. She wasn’t born to work, sleep, and stress over money.

In a last-ditch attempt to save herself from this fate, she stopped by the bank. She waited for someone to see her, her foot bobbing and her palms sweaty. By the time it was her turn, she was wobbly on her feet when she stood. Her nerves were shattered by all this stress.

“Mrs. Davencourt.” He opened an arm, motioning her to the empty chair in front of his desk.

“Miss,” she corrected.

“Of course.” He began punching something into a computer. “What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to apply for a loan.”

“Can I know the nature of the loan and how much you need?”

She swallowed hard. “I need around two hundred and fifty thousand.”

“Is this for a house? You probably need the mortgage department,” he said.

Mira shook her head. “No, just a loan.”

He smiled. “The nature of the loan?”

Her brother had gambled away the family legacy and hooked up with a bully from her past. Now she needed cold hard cash to avoid being his personal fuck toy.

“Some personal debt,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see any collateral listed on your account. Do you own any property? Have any investments?”

“No. Nothing.” She started to stand up. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“Miss Davencourt. Have you considered a private loan? The requirements are much less strict than the bank.” He handed her a business card just before she left. As she walked out of the bank, she glanced at the card. It said Eastwood Enterprises.

She was royally screwed. Even the universe conspired against her.

After heading home to her apartment to shower and change, she drove back to Drake’s office in the city.