Page 60 of Seductive Sadist
“Zak, this is Stuart St. James.” My eyes narrow at the resignation in his voice. And he has my number because Skyla sneaked a call to him last night. Fucking great.
“What’s up,Dad?”
Skyla leans against the backboard of the bed and drags her hand down the front of her face. The sheet slips down to her navel, her perfect tits just watching me, begging me for a rub and suck. My dick jumps, despite the sound of St. James’s voice in my ear. It doesn’t even come close to deflating the hard-on I suddenly have buried in my sweatpants.
“We need to talk. As soon as possible.”
“Oh, do we? Well, I don’t have any time on my calendar to do that today. Why don’t you call my assistant and tell her to set something up? Have her mark the meeting. ‘Stuart St. James Can Suck My Fat Cock.’”
“You’re a real prize, you know that, Malikov?” he spews. “This is my daughter’s life we’re talking about.”
“It’s about her now? Interesting, ’cause I thought it was always aboutyou.”
“Much as I’d like to pummel your prick ass into the ground, I’m not risking Skyla. I’ve already lost enough.” His voice catches. Like I’m supposed to buy that shit.
“Aw, poor you for picking money and empire building over your own family. Too bad you can’t see me strumming the world’s tiniest violin right now.”
“Zak,” Skyla hisses. “Stop being an asshole.”
I fire off a glare at her and turn my back, my fingertips digging into the phone like they’re St. James’s eyeballs and I’m trying to gouge them out of his skull.
Which I’d very much like to do in real life.
“You’re a scumbag, St. James. You know it, I know it, and so do your enemies. I just wonder how much dirt they actually have on you to make you desperate enough to callme, since I’m one of them.”
“You kidnapped my daughter, you son of a bitch. I’m not asking you to meet me. I’m telling you,” he growls. “This isn’t a social call. This is life or death.Whoseis up to you, and trust me, there’s a long list with names on it, names you won’t like reading.”
Chapter26
Skyla
“How is this bikini top supposed to help me fly under the radar?” I tug at the string tied behind my neck. “And it doesn’t even fit my boobs.”
Zak gives me the side-eye. A chill ripples through me, despite the heat in his stare. “Look around. You blend. That’s the idea.” He pauses to lift his sunglasses, his gaze locked on my chest. “And your tits are great.”
“They’re totally popping out.”
“I know. That’s why they look so good.”
It’s the longest he’s spoken to me since he got off the phone with my father, which basically tells me what I already suspected. I’m nothing more than a pawn in this empire-building game to him. He fooled me once, but he can’t fool me a second time.
Damn him for sucking me back into the darkness.
And damn me harder for allowing it.
We walk down Brickell Bay Boulevard in the sweltering morning sunlight. Sweat pebbles pop up all over my exposed skin and drizzle down the sides of my face. A Florida Panthers baseball cap covers my hair, sunglasses shield my eyes. Zak found a dresser in the safe house with all kinds of clothes and accessories to disguise us before heading out to meet my father. I don’t even know the reason why Dad called Zak, and it’s not like myfiancéshared any details. The call can’t have been about Kylian since I know he’s okay. It was the whole reason why I made that call to my parents from Zak’s phone.
Maybe Dad wants to apologize for ruining my life.
He has no idea how much worse it’s gotten since Zak snatched me.
And I’m still fuming at the way everything around me has crumbled. He can apologize, but I sure as hell don’t have to accept it.
I pull up the light-blue cutoff shorts hanging around my hips, my borrowed bikini bottom peeking out of the worn waistband.
“When are you going to call my father to let him know where to meet us?” It was one thing I caught while listening to Zak’s side of the conversation. He just gave my dad a time and told him to wait for a text when we’re at the meeting location. I ask in a hushed voice because even though nobody has tried to kill us yet as we dodge beachgoers along the sidewalk, there’s no saying they won’t make an attempt if they can get close enough to figure out who we are and what we’re doing.
“Once we get there.” He stops in front of the City Diner and pushes open the creaky glass door. A bell jingles overhead as we walk into the dingy restaurant. “And now we’re here.”