Page 37 of The Anchor Holds

“You want us to think Calliope Derrick will willingly let herself be traded like some common whore?” His words were sickening because I didn’t doubt he regularly traded women like cattle, thinking of them the same way too.

My eyes found his, and I glared at them, only serving to widen his smile.

Jasper’s hand circled around my thigh, squeezing to the point where it cost me a great deal not to wince.

I looked down at Jasper, the promise of retribution in my gaze. He simply considered me, his lip twitching in what lookedlike amusement. Only I knew that this was all a show. Jasper never naturally smiled. Not even so much as a lip twitch.

“Calliope Derrick is anything but common,” he nodded. “And if you’ve heard of her, then I expect you know that she is a woman of her word. And one who deals in favors. To which she is in debt to me.” He motioned to the pile of chips and watches on the table. “A debt I’m putting in the pot.”

My thigh burned from the pressure he was exerting, and he was not letting up. Jasper didn’t enjoy causing me pain; he was doing it to make a point. To make a mark. That, I knew. That no matter how this turned out, he wanted me to have the physical reminder of his presence. Of his power. There was a time when a situation like this might’ve served as foreplay.

A time when I trusted Jasper, when I was eager to dip a toe into the underworld, ignorant of its true ugliness, hedonism, and focused on my own pleasures.

That time was long gone; his touch now disgusted me as much as it excited me. And that was the shameful thing. It still did. A touch of that cruel, selfish, cold person I was with him remained. Called out to him, despite the lack of wetness in my panties.

I knew he sensed it. That this whole show might have been to serve whomever he was working for in that moment. But it was also a test. He was working to see how far I’d crept from his reach, if he could pull me back in.

“Tell the gentlemen.” Jasper commanded me like I was nothing but an obedient pet.

I held his gaze for a moment before I let my lips tilt into a smirk. “I doubt anyone in this room could be described as a gentleman.” I aimed the barb at Chip. “But my … associate is correct. I owe a favor. And I do not leave debts on the street.”

Chip Hollows did not drop his eyes, allowing me to see the hunger and greed swirling in them. That’s what drove these men—greed. And when you had more money than anyone could spend in ten lifetimes, could buy anything your sick heart desired, that’s when things started to get fucked-up. You didn’t want to buy things; you wanted to steal them, sully them, torture them.

You wanted to own what you couldn’t buy. Innocence. Terror.

“The unattainable Calliope Derrick.” His eyes shot to Jasper. “And here I was, thinking she only spread her legs for you.”

“Shespeaks for who she spreads for,” I quipped in an icy tone. “And the only shot you’ve got at me spreading my legs for a man like you is me being a woman of my word. And you’ll always know that it wasn’t because I found you desirable or attractive in any way but because I’mhonorable.” I spat the word that all but turned to dust in the present company. “My honor exceeds only so far as fulfilling favors owed. Once that is done, I’m free to go back to my hobby.” I inspected my nails, knowing I had the rapt attention of every man in the room. “Which is destroying men who think that they are untouchable. I’m exceptionally good at that. As you’ve likely heard.” I gave him a saccharine smile. “But by all means, make the bet.” I shrugged, phrasing the offer like the threat it was.

The trick was to ensure that every man in the room knew I was not a victim. Even though I felt like I was, I never let it show. That was the goal.

As much as Jasper was a master of deception and tawdry deeds—having caught me off guard—I was an expert too, and I recovered quickly.

Therefore, I already knew what would happen before anyone spoke.

They made the bet.

Jasper won the game.

Which I wasn’t entirely surprised about. Jasper won most things. Through grit, skill or cunning.

Yes, he counted cards and likely knew all the cards in play. But I’d seen his hand. And he had nothing.

He bet me onnothing.

Because the job he was there to do was so important? Maybe. More likely because he could. Because he saw his opportunity to use me, to teach me a lesson with this favor.

I didn’t let my ire show. My anger. During the game, I’d been the picture of the woman he wanted me to be. Which was more or less me with a slightly sluttier wardrobe and emptier brain.

The experience was not unlike the handful of situations we’d found our way into over the years. Danger, money, sexual tension… It was all an adrenaline rush. And like when I was younger, I’d enjoyed it. Hadn’t I?

Yet since arriving in Vegas, there was not a moment when I hadn’t felt covered in grime.

I should’ve felt some kind of relief the closer we got to the airport—my favor now cashed in, no longer indebted to Jasper—but my body was coiled tighter than ever. Because I knew this was far from over.

Jasper betrayed nothing. He’d been sitting in the car silently. No phone, no distractions, just sitting. Waiting. He knew it was coming. The release of the pressure I’d been building, the explosion of words I’d been swallowing.

He knew me.

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