to do himself, waxing them to perfection, ensuring they made the best possible impact.
I’m as much a possession to him as those cars were to my father. I can see the same cold focus in his eyes as he drags the cloth over my belly and between my legs. He’s making a note of every scrape and scratch. Every time I flinch and jump when he grazes a barely healed injury.
He’s making a mental map of every inch of me.
A man who planned on selling you wouldn’t be this obsessive, a part of me warns. I ignore it.
His motives aside, I try to reassemble my logical thought process as I come down from that sexual high. The things he said come rushing back to me, mainly about Jaguar and Alexi.
“Why was she after Tristan?” Is he implying that she was doing so on Jaguar’s say-so?
She works for him, he said.
“Why is she here now? What do you—”
He presses a finger to my lips, sealing them with just enough pressure to cut me off.
“You’ll get your answers,” he says, dropping his rag into the sink. He retreats into the room and returns with the dress bunched in both hands. He motions for me to raise my arms, and when I do, he dresses me, tugging the material down to fall over my hips.
With an appreciative glance, he surveys his work in the mirror. Hunched behind me, he can’t disguise the way his eyes dip over the V-shaped neckline. “I knew this one would suit you,” he remarks in a voice so subdued I almost miss what he says.
He knew…
I inspect myself, noting that the white dress—like pretty much everything he’s had me wear since my arrival—is far beyond the usual norm I’d stick to. It’s too bold, and at the same time, too minimal. The demur shade of white makes my eyes look even larger than they are.
In comparison to his bulk, I’m as delicate as a porcelain doll.
A contrast that I think he enjoys.
“Come.” He crosses the balcony, reenters the closet, and grabs a shirt and dry slacks, pulling them on with little fanfare. Then he leads the way into the dining room, where Alexi lounges shamelessly against the back of the chair placed at the table’s head.
At the sight of Domino, her mouth quirks into a sly smirk as she arches her back so high her nipples threaten to pop out from the neckline of her top. “I’m starving,” she purrs. “I’m just about ready to stick anything I can get ahold of into my mouth.”
The bitch.
She looks past me, her eyes tracking Domino as he claims a seat beside her. His hand latches onto my wrist, forcing me to take the one next to him.
“It’s about time we got to catch up, Adie,” Alexi says, flicking her attention to me. “Gosh, how long has it been?”
Not long enough, in a sense. For so long, Alexi has so doggedly pursued any man I’ve had any hint of interest in. Am I surprised that she managed to dig her claws into Domino?
No. I’m more alarmed by the fact that she succeeded.
She’s mastered his talent for poker faces, it seems, her blue eyes unreadable as I meet her gaze. She sits forward, letting her breasts press against the table while she curls a bit of blond hair around her finger.
“Little Adie, all grown up. It’s so weird, you know I almost didn’t recognize you when I came back.”
Two years ago, Alexi Rojas returned from obscurity to make my life hell any way she could. But before then, we were as close as sisters. Not to the same extent Pia and I were, but close enough.
I used to know all of her secrets, and she knew mine. Like the bad little habits we both indulged in, and one she taught me to perfect.
You should keep a toothbrush in your purse, she told me once, as we huddled in the bathroom of a classroom building on the campus of our boarding school. You can stick it down your throat, and it helps make everything easier. I bet we’ll both lose ten pounds by next month, and then no one will dare make fun of you the next time we wear bikinis.
I thought that was so kind of her. Sweet, actually. It’s funny how, despite the world in which I grew up, I could still be so goddamn naïve. To me, back then anyway, Pia and Alexi were the best friends any girl could