that's the problem," Nicky rushed to explain, holding her hand out as I took a step backward. "My client doesn't want any model. She wants you. Or, you two." She sent a desperate kind of look to Archer, but I just shook my head.
"I don't know what to tell you," I replied, giving her an apologetic smile. "I'm not interested."
I’d made it all of two steps out the door when Archer grabbed my upper arm and jerked me to a stop. Anger flooded through me, and indecision over whether to go for his eyes or his balls was the only thing that made me pause.
It was all the hesitation he needed though, his huge frame shadowing me close enough that I could feel his body heat radiating against my back.
"Here's how it's going to go, Princess," he told me in a low, menacing whisper. The words were delivered right into my ear, his lips brushing my skin as he spoke, and fuck my traitor body, I shivered. "You're going to come back into this bar, smiling. You're going to get hair and makeup done, you'll wear whatever their designer wants you to wear, then you'll do everything Nicky asks."
I snorted with indignation. "In your fucking dreams, D'Ath."
His hand on my arm tightened, and his body pressed tighter against my back. "You don't even want to peek inside my dreams, Princess. It'd scar you for life."
I sneered, even though my back was to him. "You're right. It's probably full of bloody gang massacres and hostile business takeovers."
Archer stilled so much that I could have been leaning against a statue.
"So, Kody told you," he murmured after a moment. "It's a fucking miracle you still give me so much attitude, knowing what we're capable of. Doesn't matter. You'll do this, or you won't see a fucking hair of last night's shooter. I'll send the order to Steele to dispose of him thoroughly."
I snorted a sarcastic laugh, willing to call his bluff. "Or I can just call Steele myself and see whether he was serious about that apology he wanted to give me."
Archer's fingers tightened, and his teeth ground together. Yeah, he was losing the loyalty of his friends to me, and he fucking knew it.
"Okay then, how about this, darling?" he suggested with dripping sarcasm. "You do this photoshoot, or I call off Bree's security detail."
I froze. "What security detail?"
A low laugh shook his chest, and I leaned into him without really meaning to. "You didn't know? Your stalker sent a threat about her too. She's apparently a bad friend to you and deserves to be taught a lesson."
My blood ran cold. I could play with my own life, my own freedom. But I wouldn't risk Bree, and Archer fucking well knew it.
"Why do you even care about this photoshoot?" I demanded instead. "Like you don't have enough money already?"
He let out a short laugh. "This isn't about money, Madison Kate."
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "Sure it's not, Archer. Coming from you, who literally bought me on the black market, I doubt I'll ever believe anything is not about money."
"Well, this one isn't. The owner of this property is a good friend of mine, and I owe her a favor. Which means, wife, that you owe her one by association." His voice was tainted with amusement, I was almost certain.
But still, I spluttered with indignation. "What? That's not a fucking thing." I struggled in his grip, trying to turn around and face him because the whole argument was getting stupid with him behind me. But he held firm and wouldn't let me move. Controlling motherfucker.
"Regardless, you do this, or I pull my guys from Bree immediately. What's it gonna be, Princess?" His tone was so fucking casual, like it wouldn't bother him in the least to leave Bree unprotected. We'd all seen what my stalker was capable of. He’d slit Drew's throat, then cut the heart out of her coconspirator. What would he do to Bree, given half a chance?
With an enraged snarl, I wrenched my arm free of his grip and spun around in fury. "Fine," I snapped. "But you'll be paying for this bullshit later."
I stomped back toward the bar but heard him heave a sigh and mutter under his breath.
"I already am."
12
An hour later my makeup, had been professionally airbrushed on, my rose-pink hair swept up in a mass of perfect curls, and my outfit... seemed to be missing something.
"Where's the rest?" I asked the