Page 76 of Lethal Lover

And she’s…

Gone.

Chapter29

Valentina

My high heels click against the tile floor as I’m rushed down the dark tunnel. With a rocketing pulse, the sound of my shoes is muted by the rush of blood pounding between my ears. I try to keep my breathing even, to center myself, to focus on what comes next.

Whatever the hell that turns out to be.

But my frenzied mind keeps tripping back to Quinn.

What the fuck is he doing here? How did he get out of the safehouse? And why did he have that whore plastered against him?

Thoughts swirl like fierce winds. I can’t catch a single one to make sense of it.

He shouldn’t be here. If they see him, it’s game over for both of us. They’ll never let us leave alive.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, sucking in all the control I can grasp. I can’t think about Quinn right now. I can’t let my focus waver. Anything that yanks me out of character could kill me and dammit, I will not die without filleting that murderous bastard.

The men who appeared once I was freed from the wall restraints don’t speak. They surround me now, dwarfing me with their Hulk-like size.

Not like I couldn’t take them all out if I needed to.

Except their role is part of the alleged “plan.”

Mercer’s contact, Zavion, disappeared once I was untied from the wall. One second, he was there, flogging me while people fucked all around us, and the next, he vanished like a puff of smoke. It would have been nice to know that I’d be on my own for this next part, but I guess it makes sense that Mercer wouldn’t blow his cover because I have an insatiable need for revenge.

At least Zavion kept his word and promised he wouldn’t let anyone sample what’s underneath my ridiculously skimpy ensemble. Our performance was hot and sensual and kinky as all hell judging by the reactions to people in our room, but not one finger slipped into any of my protected areas. He wouldn’t even let anyone get close. I played the part of the slave, made the right sounds and movements, and boom.

I was discovered. I’d like to say it really was as easy as Mercer said it’d be but…

I’m not that naïve.

The small stiletto knife tucked into my bra presses tight to my skin.

A shiver slips down my spine.

I have no idea what to expect once I get inside the room with Branko. Will there be other girls? Will he be there waiting or show up later? Will he try to… I swallow past the bile creeping up the back of my throat…fuck me?

Whatever happens, my God, I’m so close to eradicating this cancer of a man from the world. If Mercer was true to his word, tonight will be the end of Branko Ivanova.

With a pounding heart, I keep up the brisk pace of my rigid escorts. These guys have a job to do and so do I. Goosebumps pebble my skin, the blast of air from overhead vents chilling my bones.

We finally stop outside of a closed door. Two guys take their positions on either side of it. The one in front of me sticks a key into the door, twists the knob, and pushes it open.

He turns, his lecherous gaze slithering over the length of my body like the slimiest of snakes. He takes me by the arm and leads me inside the lavish room drenched in shades of lust, desire, and sin.

A massive bed stands in the center of the space with four tall posters and a canopy of red silk edged with gold draped over it. A brass chandelier hangs low from the ceiling, illuminating the room in a soft red glow. The walls are draped in red silk panels, antique furniture scattered around the perimeter.

On the wall opposite the bed hangs rows of whips, handcuffs, blindfolds, floggers, and an assortment of other torture devices. A St. Andrews cross stands intimidatingly in a far corner.

One other realization hits me as I take in the contents of the room.

There are no other girls in here.

It’s just me.

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