Page 43 of Riot

“I smelled it on him when I was there.”

“You can smell cancer?” She looked at me skeptically.

“I have the nose of a bloodhound. I could smell the innocence on you when I first met you.” I saw her eyes soften as she shook her head and smiled.

“My innocence has been used against me. He likes it because he says that it’s magical. That only I can take care of him and the things that he cherishes…” her eyes glanced over.

“It’s fucked up that he kidnapped you. What about the other girls?” It was almost as bad as my father, but I wouldn’t dare say that shit to her.

“He calls them… pets.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I figured that much. I thought he would have something other than the tiger. I mean I once sold him a rare pink peacock. But what about the girls?”

“No. Not the animals,” Her voice dropped. “He calls the girls — pets. There’s seven of them. In the basement. I take care of them. He rapes them on a rotation.”

I went still. Hewasjust as bad as my father.

She turned away, eyes on the skyline. “They’re locked in glass cages. He calls them sacred. I bathe them, feed them, get them ready for him. He keeps me separate. I’m not good enough to be one of them. Because of my scars.” She pulled back her sleeve so I could see the burn marks on her arm. I didn’t care about those. Those were beautiful to me too. But I was curious about how she got them. Shit got me heated. Who the fuck was responsible for burning her. I made a mental note to burn that muhfucka.

“Since he doesn’t want to rape me. He keeps me as his personal servant,” she continued.

Jesus.

I rubbed a hand over my jaw, trying to mask the heat rising in my chest. I’d seen some shit, but this?

This was a different kind of evil. And now I had to kill Boaz before the cancer did.

But now she was here. Standing next to me. Looking for a way out. Still talking like she had to go back.

“You ain’t goin’ back.” I said, like it was simple. But to me it was. If she made it this far, there was no turning back. Especially with me by her side.

“Boaz has people. He’ll come for me.”

“I got people too.”

She turned to me, her eyes wet but hard. “Who are you?” She asked.

“I’m Riot.”

“I know your name but what people do you have? You smuggle animals. How can you help me? I’ve heard a little bit about you from Irina but what do you really have?”

I let out a low chuckle and decided to not let her words offend me. She didn’t know who the fuck I was and that wasn’t her fault. Baby girl had been held captive since she was 16. She didn’t know shit.

“I’m Riot King, of the King Family.” I searched her eyes for recognition, and then it hit.

“Okay…”

“We own a major security and logistics company. We’re the folks behind the mob, the cartel, the Yakuza. We make moves, baby girl. So I got people and weapons. We been in the trenches for decades.”

I watched her relax a bit. She realized she was safe with me. Yeah, Boaz had people but I had way more.

I looked at her. Really looked at her. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was strong. Survived things most people would collapse under. And yet she still stood there, back straight, chin high, asking for help without begging.

Yeah, she was trouble.

But the kind I didn’t want to walk away from.

“So will you help me?” she asked.

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