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  I run. Fear shoots through as I make my way back to the spot I’d slipped in through. I pull the wood aside, letting myself out. My jacket snags on something, pulling me back. My wet shoes cause my feet to slip from under me, and I hit the ground, knocking the wind out of me.

  The back of my head hits something hard, and my vision blurs. I groan, trying to get up, but my body won’t move.

  “I think we might need an ambulance. The dumbass hurt herself when she was trying to get away,” I hear the man say. Everything starts to fade in and out.

  Finally my eyes jerk open. I try to sit up, but I’m handcuffed to the side of a hospital bed. A dizzy spell hits me, causing the throb in my head to get worse. I fall back down on the bed, trying not to throw up.

  “She’s awake,” someone says. A moment later two cops are standing over me.

  “You have some explaining to do,” one of them says. Tears start to leak from my eyes.

  “Out. All of you. She has a concussion. You can do this shit tomorrow. She’s clearly not going anywhere,” a woman in scrubs barks at the men. “I will not repeat myself.”

  “Fine. A police officer will be stationed outside the door.”

  “I know how this works. I'm not new here,” she snips back at the cop as she comes over to the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?” she asks.

  “Terrible.”

  “I’d think so. We had to put ten stitches into the back of your head.” I cringe. “Do you need anything, honey?” She almost looks sorry for me.

  “Can I call my uncle?” I ask. She looks over her shoulder before pulling her phone out and handing it to me.

  “Two minutes,” she says before she starts checking over the machines around me. I search my mind, trying to remember Chris' number. I close my eyes and picture his number coming up on the screen earlier. I enter it into the phone. It rings twice before he answers.

  “Hello.”

  “Chris.” Some relief hits me. I’m not sure what he can do, but there has to be something.

  “Leila. How fucking stupid are you?” he hisses into the phone. I take it he already knows what happened. “Don’t call me while you’re in police custody. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.” Before I can say anything else, he ends the call.

  I stare down at the phone. He used me. This was all about money and nothing about family at all. More tears fall as the realization dawns on me. I have no one. I miss my mom.

  Sobs start to pour from me. I can’t get them to stop. I pull on my arm, starting to panic. I need my mom, but I can’t have her. I’ve lost everything now.

  “Leila. I need you to calm down,” the nurse says. I reach up, pulling a bandage off my head. Blood is covering one side of it. Still the sobs don’t stop coming. I can’t breathe.

  I go for the IV in my arm, but a man in scrubs grabs my wrist, stopping me. He pulls my hand back, keeping his hold tight on me.

  “She’s turning purple,” the man holding my wrist says.

  “Got her.” I jerk my head to the woman and watch as she pushes something into the IV. Instantly I start to relax, my body letting go. My eyes feel heavy as I start to slip away to the darkness.

  Where I’m always all alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Warren

  “War here,” I bark into the phone.

  “Warren, I’m sorry—”

  “You haven’t found her yet?” I interrupt.

  Connor sighs. “No. We’re still working on that, but I have to tell you that the Park Hill deal—”

  “Connor, I do not give two shits about the Park Hill deal—”

  “We lost it.”

  That grabs my attention. “Wait, what?”

  “We lost it,” he repeats.

  “How did we lose it? The deal was done. Hands were shaken. Promises given.”

  “Contracts were not signed.”

  “A man’s word is his—”

  “Bond, I know. But Joe Rees got a last-minute bid, and it was about two percent higher than yours, so he went with it.”

  “Two percent?”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s a tiny margin. It’s almost like they knew how much you bid and then cranked it up just enough to make Rees bail on you.”

  “That fucking sucks. Who was the last-minute bidder?”

  “Some trading LLC. We’re tracking down who is behind it, but the paper trail is dense. Someone’s purposely hiding their identity. The registered agent is some company that offers that service out of Delaware and the corporate headquarters is in Barbados.”

  “So a shell. A fake company.”

  “Probably.”

  “Why would they want the Park Hill property? It doesn’t even have access to the waterfront without going through my building next door. I own all those mineral rights,” I rage.

  “I know. It’s a dumb move, and they’re going to have to pay an access fee, which will eat into their margins. That’s why it feels like it’s targeted toward you.”

  “Perfect,” I remark sarcastically. “Some asshole spending all his money on getting a hollow revenge is exactly what I need at this moment. I can survive the loss of Park Hill, but I’ll be damned if the other guy walks away unscathed. Keep digging and find out the face behind all those incorporations. There’ll be a real person somewhere. Don’t call me unless it’s about the buyer or Leila.” I disconnect and keep driving. It’s insane of me to think I’m going to find her on the street, but I can’t sit back and do nothing. Not a minute later, it’s Connor again.

  “Buyer or Leila?”

  “Neither.” He sounds breathless.

  “I don’t want to hear it.” I lean forward to hang up when he says, “It’s the D1 Tower.”

  Alarm spikes in my blood. The D1 Tower was where I last saw Leila. She fled the building and hopped in a taxi before I could get to the door. Some asshole had moved my car, and it took me ten minutes to find it. In that span of time, Leila disappeared. “What about it?”

  “Some woman broke in, pulled the fire alarm, and got injured. I bet she’s going to try to sue us. I’m going over to the hospital right now and see if I can get her to agree to a nominal settlement in exchange for not pressing charges.”

  “No. I’ll do it. You need to keep on the hunt for Leila and the buyer of Park Hill.” I make a sharp right. “The hospital is only five minutes from me.” I peek at the skyline. “I can see the top of the building. Call me if anything changes.”

  “Okay. There are police at the door. I’ll let them know you’re coming,” he says, his voice full of relief.

  I throw my keys to the valet and hustle inside. Maybe this woman is related to the buyer of the Park Hill project. It seems like a person hellbent on revenge would be the type to also try to destroy my existing properties. Connor texts me the patient room number and outside the door, I show my ID to the police officer.

  The cop hands my ID back. “She’s sedated right now. I don’t know how many questions she can answer.”

  “Might as well give it a try. If something is useful, you’ll be able to go home.”

  That perks him up, and he steps to the side. “Have at it.”

  Not three steps into the room, horror swamps me. Leila lies on the white hospital sheets, her arm handcuffed to the rail. A monitor is taped around her index finger, and the susurration of the pulse ox machine clicks and whirls in the background. My knees grow watery, and I’m forced to hold on to the railing of the bed to stay upright.

  “What the hell, Leila?” My voice is hoarse as emotions of rage and fear scrape up my insides. “What are you doing here?”

  She does not respond. I get nothing, not even an eye twitch. Something doesn’t fit here. Something is not right. I backtrack to the door and grab the officer by the shoulder.

  “Why is she in here?” I ask. “Why’s she handcuffed to the bed?”

  “Do you know her?” the man asks, his eyebrows beetling together.

  “Yeah, that’s my fucking girlfriend
. Uncuff her right now or you’re going to be facing a fucking lawsuit.” I haul him over to the bed.

  He shakes me off. “Sir, this woman was caught vandalizing your building. We’re holding her in custody until she can be charged with trespassing, attempted arson, assault on a police officer—”

  “Assault on an officer?”

  “She tried to run and—”

  “I want her handcuffs off right now. She was on that property with my permission, and you obviously scared the shit out of her, causing her to injure herself. So unless you and the city want to see a lawsuit that strips your pension, you will take the key out of your pocket right fucking now.” I’m about to commit a crime of my own.

  “No need to be a jerk about it,” the officer grumbles. “Your funeral if she tries to injure you.”

  “She’s hooked up to a pulse ox machine and sedated. What’s she going to do? Fire mind missiles at me?”

  The officer shrugs. “Your funeral then.”

  He leaves me behind. Her wrist has a slight red mark where the handcuffs abraded her skin.

  “Fucking police,” I mutter and look around for some lotion. I find some thin shit in the bathroom and fill my palm with it. I hurry back the bedside and rub the cream into her wrist and arms. She feels frail and vulnerable. She must’ve come back to the D1 tower and couldn’t find me, so she pulled the fire alarm, right? She wasn’t the person behind the Park Hill deal. She wouldn’t lie to me like that. She wouldn’t let me touch her, love her, treasure her if all she wanted to do was bring me to my knees...would she?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leila

  The sound of beeping is the first thing I hear as I start to wake. Everything comes rushing back to me like a tidal wave knocking the air out of my lungs. I don’t feel the handcuff on me anymore. I slowly open one eye but quickly shut it when I see Warren sitting beside the hospital bed. His head is down, looking at the floor.

  Why is he here? Shouldn't I be in police custody or something? Facing him actually sounds scarier than prison.

  “How are we doing in here?” I hear a woman ask.

  “She’s still out. Are you sure you didn’t give her too much? She's so small.”

  “No. She might be exhausted. She was crying up a storm before she started to have a panic attack. Are those normal for her?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice sounds defeated.

  “Oh. I thought I heard you say she was your girlfriend.” ‘

  “I think there are a lot of things I don’t know about her.”

  “Well, everything is all clear on this end. When she wakes up, she’s free to go.” Free to go? How is that even possible? She must mean from a medical standpoint. Because after what I did, there is no way the police are going to let me walk out of here.

  I think I hear Warren move. A moment later his thumb brushes against my lips.

  “She’s not going to be going anywhere. Are you, Leila? I know you’re awake.” Shit. He can’t prove that. What if I just lay here forever and pretend to be asleep? He’d have to get tired after a while and give up. “Open your eyes or I'll hand you back over to the police.”

  I’m not so sure that’s a terrible idea. It might be easier than having to face him and admit the truth. Honesty, though, I know I could never make it in jail. So I open my eyes.

  My breath catches when my eyes meet his. He looks exhausted. I wait for him to start shouting at me, but he only stares down at me.

  “Why?” he finally says after a long torturous moment. I don’t know if I should feel guilty or not. Chris used me and everything he told me might have been a lie.

  “My father is Dan Parson.”

  He stares at me blankly and that’s even more hurtful. The name doesn’t register. My father was that unimportant, a mere casualty in War’s high-powered, high-stakes, big-money game.

  “He was one of those who shouldn’t have played the game.” I throw War’s words in his face. “An investor who couldn’t afford to lose.”

  “So you did this all on purpose.” I don’t think it’s a question. He runs his hand through his hair. He turns around, giving me his back. “Is Leila even your real name?”

  “Yes, but my last name is Brooks,” I admit. What does it matter at this point? There is no point in hiding, and I’m sure he could easily find out everything about me if he wanted to at this point.

  “How does your head feel?” He turns back around to face me.

  “Fine.” I’d actually forgotten about it. I wonder how long I’d been out. I glance to the door and see two cops standing in the hallway.

  “Eyes here, Leila,” he snaps. My entire body freezes for a moment. His tone is the same as when he spanked me. “You have two options. You go home with me or you go to jail and I press charges.” He folds his arms over his chest.

  I open my mouth but close it. How does that even work? He can’t like keep me, can he? It would be easier to get away from him than the police, I suppose.

  “Why?” I ask. What is the point of taking me home?

  “We’re not done yet.”

  “You’re awake.” The nurse from earlier that let me use her phone comes walking into the room. “I got you these to change into.” She sets down some clothes on the bed.

  “Thank you.”

  “We’ve done your discharge paperwork so you’re free to go whenever. Not that you have to rush.” She gives Warren a look before she leaves the room again.

  None of this is making any freaking sense. I don’t know why he’s doing this.

  “What is it going to be, Leila?”

  “I don’t think I really have an option,” I say dryly.

  “You made this bed.” He leans down close. “Now you’re going to lie in it.” He pushes back. Was that supposed to scare me? Because that’s not what it did. In fact, it did the exact opposite. I bite the inside of my cheek. My body always has all these desires when Warren is near me.

  “Get dressed. I’ll dismiss the cops.” He strides from the room, shutting the door behind him. I sit up and do as I was told for once. I’m not exactly sure how Warren is going to manage to dismiss the police, but he somehow does.

  He even gets to walk out with me. Not a single person says shit as we get in the car. I stare out the window. He reaches over and pulls my seatbelt on before he takes off.

  “Who helped you do this?” I don’t respond. “You’re not going to answer my questions?”

  I shrug. I have no freaking clue what I should be doing. The more this weighs on me, the more I’m thinking Chris lied to me about things. Guilt starts to nag at me. My eyes fill with tears. I keep my face turned away, not wanting him to see them. I thought I was avenging my father’s death, but all I was doing was the dirty work for Chris. How could I have been so naïve?

  I try to get myself under control as we enter Warren’s place. The door shuts with a loud click behind us.

  “How is your head?” he asks again. I’m surprised he even cares. I’m pretty sure I’m only here for an interrogation of some sort. I think maybe I should lay all my cards on the table. Find out what really happened to my father.

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” He grabs me by the wrist and suddenly pulls me into the main living area.

  “What are you doing?” I try and pull back, but it’s no use. I let out a gasp when he wraps his tie around my wrist.

  “I can get you to talk, Leila.”

  I glare at him. “You better not do it.”

  He smirks, turning me around to bend me over the sofa.

  “Warren,” I try and hiss. He yanks my pants down, the cool air hitting my legs.

  A whimper leaves me as his hand softly caresses me. There is no hiding that I’m turned on. I can already feel my thighs getting wet with my need. Still I try and push back.

  “What are you going to do? Spank me until I can’t take it?” I look back over my shoulder at him.

  “I’m going to spank you. That’s a given. But it’s not
how I’m going to get you to talk.” His hand slips down my thigh. A sound from deep inside of him comes out sounding almost like a groan when he feels how wet I already am.

  I try to push down on his hand, needing the pressure. Two fingers rub my clit before he’s pulling his hand back.

  “No,” I whimper, needing him to continue what he was doing.

  “That’s how. I’ll have you begging to tell me everything.” I close my eyes tightly, knowing that he’s right.

  The question is what happens after he gets all the answers he wants from me? Will he toss me aside the same as Chris had? Why does it feel like him doing it is going to hurt a hell of a lot more?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Warren

  The only sounds in the room are her heavy breaths and the echo of the slap of flesh on flesh. Her round buttocks quiver on my lap.

  “What do you want, Leila? Do you want more of this?” I raise my hand and watch as she tenses, anticipating the next strike. She was crying that I would spank her until she gave in, but that’s no punishment. She wants it so bad that her juice is dripping out of her. I fist my hand in the air above her red ass. “No more until you start talking.”

  “I don’t have anything to say,” she retorts. Her words are sharp, but there’s a suspicious quiver in her tone, and I’m not sure whether it’s fear or desire. It could be a dangerous mixture.

  I was angry before. Angry that she deceived me. Angry that I allowed myself to be fooled, but through that fury, I saw her terror. She wasn’t afraid of me hitting her but of something else, but she won’t admit to what that is.

  If I fuck her, as soon as the orgasm wears off, she’ll be as closed-mouth as ever, and we will be back where we started, so I can’t give in. No matter how hard my dick. No matter how painful the ache. No matter how badly I want to shove her legs apart and thrust inside of her hot, steamy cunt, I cannot give in.

  “You want more of this, more of me, then you need to submit, Leila. I’m not going to give you my cock if you’re keeping secrets from me.”