Page 16 of The Toy Collector

Me: Observing only. I’m coming out.

Letting out an angry growl, I let my eyes move to Piper’s table, where the guy still has his arm around her. I should fucking kill him for touching her, and I’m tempted to. But when she shrugs out of his hold and announces that she’s going to the bathroom, I decide to leave his fate up to her.

I leave a few hundreds on the table—not just for the whiskey, but for the performance. The prelude. Done watching, I follow my little toy to the back where the bathrooms are located.

The corridor is dimly lit, the kind of ambient shadow that lends itself to secrets, to whispered sins and mistakes made on purpose. The light glows low and golden against the mahogany walls, and the further she walks, the more distant the bar sounds become.

She’s almost at the bathroom door when I silently close the distance between us. One hand curls around her upper arm and I turn her away from me, pinning her to the wall before she has time to react.

“What the—”

Her front hits the dark paneled surface with a gentle thud. My body presses against hers, deliberate and suffocating, positioning her exactly where I want her. One hand braces her hip, the other flat against the wall by her head, caging her in a way that makes it clear she isn’t getting out of this—not without me letting her go.

She goes still as I lower my head, my mouth near her ear but not touching. She smells like citrus and vanilla. Her pulse is rapid against her throat, her breathing uneven. But instead of struggling, she simply waits—rigid, uncertain.

“You shouldn’t have let him touch you,” I murmur, my voice a breath of heat against her skin.

She shifts, just slightly. Her hands flatten against the wall at her sides. She’s trying to stay calm. “I didn’t let anyone do anything that concerns you,” she spits, the venom in her tone almost enough to drown out the small tremble.Almost.

“I saw him,” I rasp. “I watched him pour you a drink. Saw his arm aroundyou. You let him sit too close, and that concerns me.” Her hair brushes my jaw with every breath she takes, tickling me in the most delicious way.

My voice doesn’t rise. It doesn’t need to. Every word is a leash I’m wrapping around her throat—tight enough to hold, loose enough to make her think she’s still breathing on her own.

“Make him stop touching you,” I say, the command low and intimate. “Make him stop looking at you like you’re something he could ever have. It’s not nice to tease, you know.”

My words make her hiss like an enraged snake. “Tease? I don’t even know who the hell you are, or why you think you can just—”

“You. Are. Mine,” I say, pronouncing each syllable clearly. “And if you don’t stop him, I’ll have to, Piper.”

She tenses at the sound of her name, the first true tremor passing through her body like a shiver. “I…” she starts, then stops. Her voice is barely audible now, little more than breath. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are.”

“Not yet,” I agree. “But you will soon. And the first thing you’ll learn is that my warnings should be heeded.”

I linger for one more second—long enough to feel her tremble again, long enough to sear the shape of her body into mine. Then I step back, slow and controlled, watching the way she holds herself against the wall like she needs the support.

She doesn’t look up or ask who I am. But more importantly, she doesn’t scream. She just breathes, shallowly. Good girl. As much as I want to stay, duty calls. First, I’ll deal with Jacobs, then the guy who touched my toy.

And how I deal with Daniel is completely up to Piper. She holds all the cards.

Chapter 6

Lorenzo

Cy’s black SUVis already idling by the curb, and I quickly slip into the front passenger seat.

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” Cy growls, fisting the steering wheel tightly as he pulls away.

Not in the mood to deal with his judgment, I huff out an annoyed breath and tell him to hurry the fuck up.

The world never tolerates my distractions for long, and Cy’s right. I shouldn’t have ignored my phone. Hell, I should have even listened to my cousin and put a stop to Senator Jacobs months ago. But when I found no concrete evidence of his extracurriculars, I naively hoped the rumors were just that.

That was my mistake, one I’ll never repeat.

Jacobs was always living on borrowed power. The moment I handed it to him, he must have convinced himself it was his to keep. That his position meant something beyond my indulgence. That patience equated to leniency. But Jacobs is the kind of man who doesn’t understand leverage until it’s wrapped around his throat.

They all think they’re kings. But they’re toys—poseable, replaceable, breakable. And I’m the one who built the box they play in. As I think this, the puzzle of Piper flickers through my mind, uninvited. I might call her my toy. But she’s nothing like the rest.

She’s rare. Singular. Mine.

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