Page 83 of Lethal Lover

Sweat beads on the back of my neck. The man leading us grasps the doorknob and twists it. A dim glow peeks out from beneath the door. My skin prickles, teeth gritted as he pushes it open.

With a blaring pulse, I clench and unclench my fists.

The door opens. We’re pushed through, and then it slams just as quickly behind us.

Black fabric billows in the chilled air as we pass, soft golden lights form a path along the floor. It’s the only light in the empty tunnellike space. Before we reach the end, one of the guys yanks my arm and tugs me to the right. He presses something on the wall, and it slides open, revealing a hidden door. I struggle in his grip, a feeling of impending dread suffocating me like a thick rope lassoed around my throat.

Whatever lies beyond this next door may be bad… like deadly bad.

“You’re already dead,” his deep, gruff voice mutters. “Don’t bother fighting it.”

Quinn is now behind me. My breaths become shallow and sharp.

Is Branko behind this door?

Will I survive long enough to find out?

My core tenses.

Fuck yes, I will. This jackass may have one of my arms, but the other one is free to grab my knife. The air is sucked from my lungs as I wait for the door to creak open. I catch Quinn’s eye one last time before I’m dragged inside.

The smell hits me first, like a machete to my gut.

Death, foreboding, and fucking sandalwood.

I keep my mouth shut, my gag reflex in overdrive. The man shoves me into the space. It’s gray, bare, and cold. Eyeing the walls around me, I take note of chains, whips, and a variety of torture devices that don’t in any way contribute to an aura of seduction and primal fantasy.

“This is another of our playrooms. Although it’s not the kind of torture our patrons typically like to experience.”

“That’s right. This next part sure as hell won’t tickle.”

I choke on a gasp. It’sher, the girl from the room, the girl Quinn trusted enough to bring to me. The fucking whore.

She flashes a bright smile at us, swinging her hips as she walks toward us.

“Mandee, what the fuck did you do?”

I turn to glare at Quinn. “What didshedo? Really?”

Mandee cocks her head to the side. She takes a few more steps and drags her finger down the front of Quinn’s shirt. “Sorry, sweetie. It’s all about the cash. And you’re not worth much to me beyond that pretty face.” She points to the security guys. “They just pay better. No hard feelings, okay?”

“You did good.” The guy next to me pulls out a wad of cash and hands it to her. “Now get out.”

Mandee puts her hand on her hip and waves the bills in front of her. “I think I’m worth a whole lot more than this for what I did. At least double. Times two. Got it?”

The three guards exchange a tense look, and the one who handed her the money nods. “You are worth it.” His lips stretch into a sinister smirk. “I’m just not paying for it.”

He holds his gun out and shoots her between the eyes. Hundred-dollar bills fly out of her hand, scattering around her like a fan.

I stare at her lying there, a vacant look in her overly made-up eyes.

Fucking A. Looks like the greedy little bitch got what she deserved.

One of the other guys grabs my hair and tugs it backward. I scream, the hairpins securing the wig in place stabbing my skull. He grunts and pulls it off, revealing my natural hair.

“You killed the boss. Now you pay.” Another man grabs Quinn’s arm and drags him over to the wall.

The boss? What the—?

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