Chased (Savage Men 3)

That was why I had to be very selective of my board members. I don’t just allow anyone to join my company and rise in the ranks. I need to know whether they’re immune to corruption. To greed. To everything that makes this world evil.

Because I don’t want to have to end up killing one of my own board members.

That’d be too sadistic. And bad for the company, might I add.

No, I prefer keeping this place as clean and perfect as can be. Our image must be perfect, so we must be perfect. I expect nothing less from everyone in my company. If they fail … they go. Except now, I’m starting to wonder if I’m the one who should be going next.

I’ve been anything but perfect these past few days. Ever since she came into my life, I’ve found it increasingly hard to resist sin. I’ve done something unforgivable to this human being, but I know it was for a good reason.

I had to know if I was just like them … evil.

Turns out, I couldn’t do it.

But now I’m stuck with her. And I can’t let her go.

Not even if I wanted to.

She’s taken over my mind to the point that I’m becoming obsessed. Every damn second of the day, she seems to be all I can think about, and it’s annoying the fuck out of me.

What is it about this woman who makes me so weak?

I tap my fingers together and narrow my eyes, trying to think of a solution, but I come up with nothing. There is nothing I can do … nothing but give in.

Either to her … or to death.

Because if I ever get caught by the cops for giving those who do evil the justice they deserve, I will take matters into my own hands.

Suddenly, my phone rings, so I take it out of my pocket and answer it.

“Have you freed her yet?” It’s Brandon.

“No.”

Not this again.

“Why not?”

I don’t have to explain it to him, but I’ll amuse him. Just this once. “You know why.”

“You can’t just keep her to keep yourself in check. She’s not a pet.”

“I told you why I was doing this before we even started,” I hiss. “Don’t bring this on me now.”

“Weren’t you the one who always yammered on about doing the right thing?”

“This is the right thing. She’s alive, isn’t she?” I whisper-yell. I don’t want my colleagues to hear.

“At what cost?”

“Look, why are you even calling me right now? Just to tell me I’m bad? I already know,” I retort.

“Because you’re slipping, and you told me to warn you when you did,” he says.

I clench the phone in my hand. “Don’t …”

“Let her go then.”

“I. Can’t,” I shout back, then I end the call, staring at the phone for a few seconds before chucking it at the wall.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” I hiss, picking it up again.

Luckily, it still works, but the screen is broken.

Why did he have to call me? Why does he always have to remind me of what I’ve done? Does he enjoy it? Of course, he does. He likes to see me writhe because we’re both the same, he and I. We both enjoy witnessing the misery of bad people … and I’m becoming one of them now.

Motherfucker.

Sometimes, I really wish we weren’t so much alike.

Brandon can see right through me, which is why I’m so pissed off. I don’t like it when someone knows exactly what goes on in my mind. When I’m going down the wrong path.

I know it, yet I also know I’m powerless to stop it.

I started my descent long ago. The moment I decided to contact Graham and set up a meeting. Then everything after that fell into place like dominoes.

The only question now is what will happen?

Her.

That’s what’s going to happen.

Right now, everything revolves around her.

I turn around and grab my laptop. I turn on the connection to the cameras in my home and sit back until I’ve found her. She’s switching channels on the television, probably listening to the news. I wonder how long it’s been since she last heard other people—besides me, Graham, and the people she was stuck with in the compound—talk.

She stares at the television like a child experiencing everything brand new, and it captivates me. After a while, she gets up and starts exploring the house again. It’s then that I notice she’s wearing nothing but a shirt … my shirt, to be exact.

I swallow.

She grabs an apple from the bowl on the kitchen countertop and takes a bite. The juices flow down her mouth, and I lick my lips as I salivate with greed.

Not from hunger for food … but from hunger for her.

Fuck.

I close the laptop and rub my chin, annoyed. I still have work to do, but at this point, I honestly don’t give a shit about this meeting anymore. We’ve discussed everything already, so what point is there in staying? None.