Page 54 of The Prince of Power

I go with the first thing that comes to mind. “Is Thornecroft part of a larger cult—I mean, organization?”

“Yes.”

Damn it. I should’ve asked something open-ended. I pull off a sock and toss it aside. “Okay. So you forced me into indentured servitude. Why? What do you want me for?”

“No.”

I groan. “Will you ever tell me—Shit!”

I asked another damn yes-no question.

He’s practically glowing. “Yes.”

Well, at least I’ll find out eventually. Minutes before he kills me.

No. I can’t think that way. If I do, I’ll get anxious, and I need to keep my head. After removing my last sock, I take a moment to think. I have to come up with a good one. It’s my last question. After I remove his robe, I’m done.

“So you’re part of something bigger than Thornecroft. That means this isn’t just a fraternity. What is Thornecroft for?”

His eyes narrow. “Thornecroft is a recruitment center. My organization has three. All elite universities.”

I let the robe slip off my shoulders.

Damn it. I’m not done.

It wouldn’t be so bad to take off my pajama pants. Underwear doesn’t show any more skin than a bathing suit bottom.

He must sense my indecision, because his eyes brighten.

I gulp. “What is the relationship between your organization and Ashford University?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Ashford was created by us. It’s one of the oldest recruitment centers in the US.”

Well, at least now I have a better understanding of why Ashford turns a blind eye to so much, but…

This also means I have to remove my pajama pants. My face heats as I grip the waistband. “Please don’t look.”

Damian’s gaze is fixed on my hips. “Not on your life.”

“Damian, please.”

“You agreed to the rules, Ava.”

“I’ll ask you another question.”

He inhales a sharp breath. Does he know what a big deal it is for me to go this far? This is a pajama shirt. I’m not wearing a bra underneath.

“Alright then.” He shuts his eyes. “I won’t look. For now.” His voice is hoarse. “Ask your question.”

I yank my pants down and toss them aside. The cool air hits my bare skin, but I hardly feel it.

My body is on fire.

I’m learning real things, and somehow that’s exhilarating enough to make me reckless. To make me forget that I shouldn’t be playing games with the Devil.

I take a deep breath. “Did someone in your organization murder Ben Cartwright?”

He groans in frustration. “No, I won’t answer that one, but don’t give up. Try phrasing it differently.”

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