Page 10 of The Breeding Cave
He counted the money two more times, then nodded. “Ten thousand next time.”
Ten thousand?!
“When’s next time?” I asked, calculating how much time I had.
“Whenever we find you.”
With that, the driver rolled up his window and drove off into the night. The red taillights disappeared down the road, and I swallowed hard. Maybe I could convince that billionaire beast man to give me the ten million in cash.
But that maid was right earlier.
If the Dragon Clan found out I had ten million dollars, they’d take it all.
Maybe that was for the best—get them out of my hair for good.
Rain sprinkled down around me. I pulled out my phone to see if I had enough time to run home to get dressed a bit better for tonight at The Breeding Cave. Somehow, that man had convinced me to come back to a place with such a horrid name.
Who wanted to be bred by a beast, his face masked by the darkness?
Maybe those crazy book girls.
The bright white numbers on my phone glowed up at me—12:01 a.m.
“Fuck,” I whispered to myself, hurrying down the city streets, dressed in the same clothes that I had on since my date with Brent. Can I even call it that if he walked out on me? How is it already past midnight?! “I’m going to be so late!”
I hadn’t even had a chance to go shopping for clothes this afternoon!
Fifteen minutes later, when I made it back to my street, a car sat outside my apartment with its lights on, just like he had promised.
Before I could make it to the car, the man from last night with a white mask exited the driver’s seat and opened the back door for me. I slowed to a walk until I made it to the car, and then I leaned against it to catch my breath.
“You’re late,” the driver said.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “Being late is a normal thing for me.”
Especially lately.
“You don’t need to apologize to me,” the driver said. “But our friend is another story.”
After slipping into the car, I placed my purse beside me on the seat and buckled my seat belt. I stared at him through the rearview mirror, trying desperately to see through the eye holes in his mask, wanting to see if I recognized him.
“Do you perhaps know our friend’s name?” I asked, wanting to get as much information out of this driver as possible.
I mean, he worked for him, didn’t he? He had to know at least a nickname. Or any information about him, right?
“I do.”
“What is it?”
“I am forbidden to tell you.”
“I’ll buy you dinner.”
He tensed. “I don’t believe our friend would like that. He’s protective of you.”
“I know,” I whispered. “Which is exactly why I need to know his name.”
My driver met my gaze in the rearview mirror, and for a moment, I thought he would spill everything to me, but instead, he nodded to the seat beside me.
