Her Dom (Beauty and the Captor 3)

Marcos’ minions had done a passable job filling in for their missing leader—until that leader could be found, of course—and it was well-known I had my hands full with his little escape artist at the moment. No business would have been directed my way, and certainly not here, and mere days after my arriving.

That left only one option, and I didn’t like it one fucking bit. This man had never been one of Marcos’ associates like he’d said. That was a ploy, probably to keep this man out of the line of fire from rivals. Because this was Marcos’ boss.

Was he here for revenge? No, if he knew I’d killed Marcos, he would have sent his own goons after me. He wouldn’t be making a house-call with anything more than his driver and one guard for protection. That meant he was stepping in where Marcos had left off, and possibly looking for information. Though, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep an eye on the driver and the guard, just in case.

I wanted to ignore the buzz that was now sounding from the front gate’s intercom, but a man that high up on the food chain wouldn’t have made the trip unless he knew I was here. So, ignoring it was only going to raise suspicions. There was only one route available to me. One very particular route. And it fucking sucked.

I pressed the button to let them in, tucked a Glock in the back waist of my pants, secured a Beretta in its holster around my ankle and double-timed it back to Scar.

I didn’t want to do this to her. Fuck, I wasn’t even sure if she could handle it, but the only other option meant putting us back on the run. I couldn’t do that to her.

In the bedroom, I found her in the exact position I’d left her, but one surreptitious glance up through her lashes and the expression on her face changed. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to do this to her. Thank fuck for the clothes I’d picked up on the drive here.

“Scar, you need to listen and do exactly what I say. Put on the black nightgown,”—it was the most coverage I could offer her—“kneel at the end of the bed. Don’t use the pillow. Keep your head down no matter what unless you’re told otherwise.”

“What’s…what’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes wide with fear as she hastened to do what I’d said.

I didn’t even have time to explain it to her. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Master,” she said and nodded without hesitation.

My heart soared and sunk at the same time. She trusted me without equivocation…but once again I’d led her right into this.

“I’ll die before I let anyone hurt you. Understand?” It was the only assurance I could offer her.

She nodded.

I strode to the door, but I couldn’t stop myself from turning back once I reached it. “I’m so sorry, Scar,” I whispered.

She heard me. I could tell by the way her shoulder muscles tensed, but she didn’t move from her position at the end of the bed.

Fuck, I wanted nothing more than to grab her and make a run for it. Instead, I walked out of the room, closed the door behind me and smoothed my features into an unreadable expression. With any luck, I’d have them out of here without ever laying eyes on Scar—though I’d learned well that luck was a cruel son of a bitch and wasn’t counting on it to lend me a hand.

Down the stairs and across the foyer, I paused for one last calming breath. I was used to dealing with evil fuckers. Hell, I was one too—this was nothing more than an encounter with my own kind. Stay calm and cool, show no fear, and be prepared for anything. I touched my fingers to the steel at my back. Yes, I was ready. I was ready to do whatever I had to do to keep Scar safe.

I disengaged the security on the door and opened it to the two men standing there. The driver had stayed in the car—not surprising, but it meant I’d be re-engaging the system the second these two stepped inside.

“Good afternoon, Mateo,” I greeted the one I knew to be in charge and nodded to the other man. There was no need to feign surprise over their appearance here—they would already know I’d seen them on the security cameras.

“Good afternoon, Derek. It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?”

I let him take the upper hand in the handshake that ensued. If it appeared I had already been well aware of his supposed superior position, it would give the impression Marcos had confided in me more than he really had.

“Can I offer you a drink? I’ve only recently returned, so there isn’t much more I can offer you, I’m afraid.”