Page 19 of His Dark Vices

Maybe I can turn her into that kind of girl. Maybe she'd do something like that if it was the latest trend. Not with a boring journal, though.

Something else.

That's my problem. I'm thinking too much in the moment. I need to be planning ahead, much further ahead. And maybe I do want her to forget me. Won't that give me the best chance to lay out my trap? It'll give me the time to make a better plan, something concrete.

The initial anger at losing control starts to fade, and in its place is a little realization. I may not know much about Bree yet, but after tonight, one thing's for sure.

I know how she likes to be fucked.

I've still gained something, added to a picture that will become clearer with time. I'll know what to do in every situation if I can just be patient.

And if I can find a way to become that fly on the wall.

CHAPTER 7

Bree

In this whole mess of a situation, Sam is the only thing anchoring me here.

We had to wait for the police to come and ask questions, and the restaurant staff tried to personally soothe my wounds until they came. I don't know how many apologies were offered, and I got tired of assuring them it wasn't their fault and that I wasn't going to tarnish their reputation over the incident.

Apparently, the guy didn't even work here. No one knows how he got in. When the police escorted him away, I shuddered as I saw his face again. I shuddered even harder at the thought of what would have happened if Sam wasn't there to save me.

Sam hasn't left my side for a moment, his hand tirelessly stroking my back as I huddle in close to his side.

"You okay?" he asks gently against my hair, pulling me even closer against his body.

I nod, unable to let him go, my eyes staring into the floor.

"I'm worried about you. You've had a heavy shock, haven't you?"

His voice is so soothing. I let it wrap around me as I close my eyes and bury my face in his suit. It's hard to shake what just happened. I know that man won't find me at home, but I still can't bear the idea of going home alone tonight.

So when Sam starts to steer me toward his car and offers to take me to his penthouse, I wordlessly agree, too relieved to speak.

The ride over is a blur, and when he helps me get out, I don't pull away from him until we step out of his private elevator and into his home. I notice the huge windows immediately. They remind me of the restaurant, and that's probably why Sam closes the black curtains as the first order of business. I watch him gratefully, now holding on to my own body for comfort. When he finishes, he turns to me, a heartbroken little smile playing at his lips. It looks like he wants to apologize again, so I look away.

"Beautiful place you have here," I murmur, eyeing the staircase leading up to who knows where. I can't believe how tall the ceilings are.

"I can give you a proper tour when you're ready. Do you want to lie down or rest on the couch? Whatever you need is fine. I'll get out of your hair?—"

"No," I say quickly, moving toward him.

He closes the distance between us and rubs my upper arms.

"I can stay right here. Whatever you need."

Looking up into his eyes, I can't help but remember how furious he was earlier. He unleashed such a beating on that guy.

All for me.

Has anyone ever been so protective over me?

"What are you thinking?" Sam asks, now stroking my cheek with his thumb. There's true concern in his eyes. It makes me feel bad.

"Thank you," I whisper. "For saving me." I feel my eyes fill with tears, but before I can wipe them away, he's catching them on either thumb.

"I'm sorry he touched you." That hard look returns to Sam's eyes, but his touch is still gentle. "I should have gotten there sooner. I shouldn't have let him lay a finger on you."

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