"Everyone that works for me knows exactly who I am and what I'm capable of," he said in answer to my questioning look.
I bit my lip. "What kind of assets are we talking about?" I pressed.
Hendrix cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to know the answer to that? Once you open that door, there's no going back."
"Are you planning on eventually letting me go?" I asked, a little too excitedly.
That terrifying red gleam that I was now confident was not a figment of my imagination came to the surface of Hendrix’s gaze. "I won't ever be letting you go," he said fervently.
I hadn't really been expecting any other answer, but the news was still depressing. My wolf was excited about the prospect of staying with Hendrix forever though. She was practically dancing around inside of me. She and I really needed to have a talk about her taste in men.
"Will you tell me then, if there's no chance of me getting away?" I asked, feeling desperate for the information even though I knew it wasn't going to be good.
"I'm an arms dealer, little wolf. I create, trade, and sell weapons of all kinds to my buyers. I also have a branch of my business that exchanges protection to shifter communities for payment. But obviously, that business doesn't compare to my weapons empire."
My heart skipped in alarm. "By customers around the world, do you mean countries?" I asked, feeling more scared by the second.
"Countries, kingdoms, interest groups… I’ll sell to anyone for the right price," he answered, obviously amused.
"Interest groups? Like… terrorist groups?" I clarified softly.
"I don't subscribe to traditional terms. I answer to money and that's it. I don't care about the political happenings of the world. I only care about myself—and my brothers, I suppose,” he added almost reluctantly.
"Are you scared now?" he asked, the idea of my fear seeming to excite him.
"I would be a fool not to be," I said softly.
"What's the matter, little wolf? Have you never craved excitement? We both know that your life was going nowhere in that pack. It was only a matter of time before you would be sent to Reject Island. You should be thanking me," he told me.
I stiffened, inane shame washing over me. For some reason, I hadn't thought that he was aware of my sordid history. But of course, he was. He’d known about the bands around my wrist, hadn’t he? I hadn't done anything wrong in what happened between Brayden and myself, but there was a certain shame that felt impossible to get rid of now that I had been rejected by the only person in the world that the Moon Goddess had determined was my perfect fit. There was also the fact that Brayden was terrible, a truly disgusting shifter. What did that say about me, that she thought he’d be my ideal mate?
"So you know everything?" I asked softly as we passed rows and rows of luxury brand stores. I stared at them, not really taking anything in, but I couldn't look at him. What was he thinking right now?
There was a long silence, but he finally answered.
"I always do research before my acquisitions," he said, and for some reason, some stupid reason, the word ‘acquisition’ burned in my chest.
My biggest mistake in all of this would be ever thinking that I was more than that.
All of the glitter of Hendrix's world was dangerous, momentarily distracting from the situation I found myself in.
A screen suddenly began to rise between where the driver was sitting and where we were seated. I looked over at Hendrix questioningly, but he didn't say anything until the screen was all the way up. With his right hand still holding his beloved tablet, his left hand was clenching open and closed, like he was trying to ease some tension.
"I read about your father," he commented softly, and my breath hitched. You would think that the years would have made the pain fade, but every time I thought about that night, every time I thought about waking up and finding out that Jamie was dead, my heart still felt like it was being torn apart.
“My father was a terrible man, too," he said quietly.
My eyes widened, but I stayed quiet, hoping that he would tell me more. When you saw a man like Hendrix, who seemed to own the very air that you breathed, it was hard to believe that we could share similar pasts. It was almost more depressing, actually, if that were the case. Because while he obviously rose up from the ashes, I’d stayed laying in them.
"He was mentally unstable, heard voices in his head. And one day he took the three of us to the lake and tried to drown us. He told the authorities he was ‘getting rid of our demons’," Hendrix chuckled darkly as he stared blankly at his lap, obviously caught in memories of the past. "Little did he know, he actually created three demons that day."
I shivered at his words.
"Where was your mother?" I asked tentatively.
"We had been told that she left. Ran away and left us behind. But I doubt that's true. I'm sure she's lying in a shallow grave somewhere, a victim of my father's insanity," he responded blankly.
Damn him. Damn him all to hell. Here I was trying to remember my place in this new world, and he was making me feel. I hadn't met a lot of people with tragic backstories. Not that most of my pack hadn't been tragic in general, they just hadn't had the horror laced into their backstory like I did.
Before he could say anything, the town car came to a stop. I peered out the window, seeing nothing but the glittering skyscrapers, no clue of where we were, or what we were doing.
The driver was suddenly at my door, opening it for me. I paused for a second getting out, wondering if I could break away and disappear into the crowds on the sidewalk, but my wolf barked at me before I could come up with any concrete plan.
"Syn," Hendrix said in warning, like he could read my mind.
I gave up my thoughts on running and allowed the driver to escort me to the sidewalk where Hendrix was waiting.
He yanked me closer to him, and a low growl broke from his throat. At first, I thought he was growling at me, and then I realized that his growl was focused on the deathly white driver who was backing away slowly with his hands in the air beseechingly. "Mine," he growled in warning. "Don't ever touch her."
"Yes, sir," the driver responded in a trembling voice as he practically dashed back to the other side of the vehicle and jumped into the town car.
My mouth opened and closed, but then Hendrix's arm wasn't just resting on my back—it was wrapped around me, pulling me to his side so that I was nestled against him, unable to escape the delicious scent of him. My wolf moaned, wanting more. I was too shocked to do anything.
"Not my girl," he murmured into my hair, as his hand massaged the side of my waist like he was reassuring himself that I was still there. "There's nowhere that you could run where I wouldn't find you, little wolf," he promised.
I shivered, wondering why the threat sounded so comforting.
He led me through an impressive set of gold and glass doors, and I lost all train of thought.
We were in an aquatic wonderland. Straight ahead of us was an enormous fish tank that stretched across the entire large room and at least five stories up. I watched in shock and awe as a huge 15-foot shark came into view, looking like it was headed straight towards the glass before it abruptly turned and swam away. Fish in every color under the rainbow flitted in and out of elaborate coral and rock structures. Enormous manta rays, as big as I was, swam in and out of view. It was incredible. As a child, I remembered going to a nearby aquarium as part of the class school trip before everything had gone to hell, of course. But the tanks in that place didn't even come close to rivaling what I was seeing in front of me.
After staring at it for a long moment, only then did I become aware of the sharply dressed men and women milling around, holding exotic-looking drinks in long stem flutes as they admired the view in front of them and talked and laughed with each other.