Page 133 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
I need to know what detonated.
Reluctantly I shake my head to clear it and move on.
Still, with every step, her image sears my mind.
I see her cuffed to the bed, blindfolded, her bodytrembling under our touch, lips parted in a moan that still echoes in my ears.
She’d been a glorious vision of surrender and fire. Her beautiful trust in us unraveled me in ways I didn’t expect.
And then, when I showed her the library, her eyes lit up, and she smiled at me as if I’d offered her the best gift imaginable.
As I watched her, I marveled at her joy in simple pleasures.
The women I’ve fucked in the last couple of years were all flash and greed, their smiles as shallow as their hearts. As long as I offered over my black credit card, they made no real demands.
But Isla…
She wants none of that. In fact, she sees my money as a liability, not a prize—and men like me as a problem.
Moments later, I find Brennan where I expect, at the small bar just off the galley, fingers white on the glass of scotch that’s fuller than he usually leaves it.
“Whatever it is”—I drop onto the stool next to him—”start talking.”
He doesn’t look up immediately. Just taps the side of the glass and mutters, “Your phone off?”
I check the device.Shit.Still on silent.
“Moretti wasn’t in the mood for voicemail.”
Moretti?A chill creeps in. “He called you directly?”
Brennan finally meets my gaze. “You didn’t pick up. So yeah.”
“And?”
He downs half the glass before answering.
“Marco is talking to the feds.”
Every muscle in my back tightens.Fuck.The goddamn feds? “Why the fuck is he still in jail?” We paid the DA half a million to take care of this.
“DA played, but the feds won’t.”
I signal for the bartender. “Make it a double.”
Moments later, the drink is in front of me.
When we’re alone, I shove the glass aside. “How bad is it?”
“He’s singing like a fucking canary.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Told them to pick any year. Any random shipment. Telling them everything—from artifacts to cash to weapons—got moved through Vale Imports.”
There’s enough dirt there to bury half of Houston’s elite and torch the rest.
I drag a hand through my hair, trying to stay calm. “They have proof?”
“Not yet. But they’re listening. Moretti says they’ve got ears in places we can’t see. The senator’s name came up. He’s sniffing around, maybe trying to use the story to leverage a DOJ move.”
Jesus H.Of course he is. Cecil Ellery treats his Senate seat like a damn throne that he intends to sit on for life.
