Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” I murmur, unsure of a better response. “Is there anywhere you need me to be?” When he shakes his head, I dip my chin before farewelling him with a smile. “If Ghost needs me, I’ll be—”
“You don’t need to tell him where you’re going. He knows.”
He walks in the opposite direction as me, but I still feel as if I am being watched even hours later on the stern of the boat.
I’ve sought the cameras I regularly spotted around the compounds I’ve been captive in. There have been none to see.
They’re either microscopic, or I’m being watched by means other than electronically.
I peer back at a stack of container ships when Alek calls my name. “Kate.” He waits for me to shelter my eyes from the low-hanging sun before finalizing his reply. “Ghost wants to see you.”
Like our first meeting on this ship, our meeting commences with Ghost seated behind his big desk in the captain’s office, except this time, there isn’t a woman kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick.
Regretfully, the leftover residue of white lines remains on top of his desk.
A small tremor racks through my body when Ghost gestures for Alek to leave.
“He asked me to stay.”
Ghost glares at him over my shoulder. “And I told you to leave. Pick whose wrath you want to face first.”
My heart thuds against my ribs for several long beats before Alek eventually dips his chin, spins on his heels, then leaves.
It takes another set of thuds before Ghost eventually speaks. “Why were you sick this morning?”
I halfheartedly shrug. “I don’t know.”
He leans forward and balances his elbows on his desk. “How many times have you been sick?”
“This morning was the first.” When his eyes narrow, I murmur, “I’ve had an upset stomach, but it is the first time I’ve vomited.”
His next question pushes me off balance. “How many men have you fucked?”
“None,” I answer immediately.
“Lie to me—”
“I’m not lying.” I know what happens to women who lie in this industry. “I haven’t… been with anyone.”
Ghost takes a moment to ponder before firing off another question. “How many men have touched you?” When my eyes flicker as I mentally calculate the number of times I’ve been manhandled, he corrects, “How many men have touched your cunt?”
“One,” I answer before swallowing harshly. “Actually, two.” My voice quivers when a murderous gleam flares through his eyes. “The doctor you killed was the second.”
“Who was the first?” He doesn’t give me the chance to answer. “Rudd?”
I shake my head so fiercely my waist-length hair swishes against my back. “No. He never touched me.”
He slants his head and arches a heavy brow. “Then who?”
This reply is the hardest to deliver. “My-my original owner.”
The bend of his brow doubles. “Col?” I can barely breathe when my headshake shifts his expression to furious. “Then who?” he repeats, louder this time.
“Vladimir P—”
“Popov,” he interrupts while slouching low in his chair and running his hand along the tick in his jaw. “You were taken by Russians?” I lift my chin, prompting him to continue his interrogation without interruption. “When?”
I stammer out, “Seven to e-eight years ago. I’m not exactly sure how much time has passed.”
“Do you not think it is strange you’ve been untouched for so long?”
I nod before switching it to a shake. “I was auctioned to lure someone. To force them away from New York. Perhaps he only likes…” I can’t think of the right word, so I mumble, “… people like me.”
I stop talking when Ghost bangs his fist onto the desk. He looks furious, almost murderous, and all his focus is on me. “He was there for you?” He clenches and unclenches his fist three times in a row. “While they were setting us up for their fucking shit, he was there for you!”
His roar when he uproots his desk sends me stumbling backward. It lands feet away from me, so I’m not afraid of being hit by the thick wooden material. I’m petrified of Ghost’s stomps as he makes a beeline for me.
“I didn’t do anything,” I murmur with a sob when he crowds me against the door with his frantically thrusting chest. “I was sold—”
“So we weren’t in New York when they ratted us out? They fucking used you because they knew you were exactly his type.” He grabs my face and forces it to align with his. “Milo is dead because you lured him to that auction, but instead of blaming himself, he blamed me. I wanted you, and he’s reminded me of that over and over and over again the past four years.” His laugh is manic, and it releases my heart from my ribcage. ”Yet here you are, about to be his Virgin Mary.” His expression turns stoic as his hand moves from my hips to between my legs. “If you’re even a virgin. He doesn’t believe your claims. He thinks you were sick this morning because you’re pregnant. He wants the doctor to check again.” He cups my sex, his fingers digging in firm enough to make me squeak. “But we both know that can’t happen. That the doctor is fish food with the rest of the men who thought they could question my loyalty.” He exposes part of his shadowed face by realigning our eyes before muttering, “So maybe I should check for myself.”