Her curiosity about him concerns me. I know she met him briefly at Judge’s office, and she’s mentioned several times she thought he was an asshole herself. Yet there’s a glint in her eyes right now that I need to quash. I never intended to tell her what happened in that punishment room, but she needs to get him out of her thoughts before she goes any further down that rabbit hole.
“He’s got issues,” I say. “Addiction, for starters. I’m not really sure, but there’s something dark in him. I just know you can’t trust him. He seems lovely and charming at first. That is until he’s high out of his mind, restraining you to a bench so he can whip your ass.”
“Oh, my god.” Her eyes widen in shock, but I can see I’ve only sparked her curiosity more.
“It wasn’t that kind of whipping,” I clip out. “Nothing was sexy about it, and I didn’t want it. I didn’t ask for it.”
“Oh.” She frowns, swallows, and shakes her head. “God, babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I figure there’s only so much fucked up you can take at a time.”
“The world you live in is different,” she mutters. “That’s for sure. But you don’t have to handle me with kid gloves. I’m here to listen, always.”
I feel better having told her, and I hope I got through to her, but something is still lingering in her thoughts. It makes me nervous because I don’t want Solana getting twisted up in the warped world of IVI, especially with someone like Theron. But there’s one thing I know about her. She’s strong-willed, intelligent, and feisty… yet she has another side. A darker side. She’s made that remark more than once about wanting a man who can handle her. Translation… she likes the dominant type. Someone who will be the alpha and try to put her in her place. That’s what she meant about a challenge. And from what I’m gathering, she’s sensed those qualities in Theron. I just hope she doesn’t cross his path again because I doubt I’ll be able to stop her from wanting a taste, even if he’s not good for her.
My phone chimes again, and I consider ignoring it because I’m certain it’s Judge. But Solana isn’t helping to divert me by her own distracted thoughts, so I check it. And I’m surprised to see it’s the last person I’d expect. Clifton Phillips. It’s strange, considering I haven’t heard from him since the night of that insane dinner at Judge’s house. Yet here he is, texting me like no time has passed, asking if he can take me out. I reply with a polite thank you and decline the offer. But that doesn’t seem to deter him because he’s texting me again a moment later.
Please, let me make it up to you. That last date was a disaster.
I stare at the screen in confusion at his persistence. I don’t know why the sudden interest now. Surely, after that trainwreck, he’d cut his losses and run.
“Who is that?” Solana leans over my shoulder to peek at the text.
“He’s a Sovereign Son,” I explain. “I think I really stuck my foot in it with him because I had a lapse in judgment and clearly wasn’t thinking things through when I considered the idea of marrying him just to escape my captivity. Now, it seems he’s still holding on to that hope.”
“Creepy.” Solana shivers. “Tell him hell no.”
I laugh but decide to ignore him too. I already told him no once, and that should be enough.
“We’re done!” Georgie proclaims proudly from the living room.
Solana and I both go to inspect their handiwork, which, as it turns out, isn’t bad at all. When I test the sturdiness of the crib by trying to wiggle the frame, it doesn’t move. A credit I silently give to Drew, the hulking IVI guard with a perpetually stern look on his face.
“Thank you.” I offer them a warm smile. “This is amazing.”
Drew’s phone rings, interrupting the moment, and almost at the same time, the doorbell chimes. He answers his phone as I move to check the door, and then his hand catches my wrist and stops me.
“Wait here, Ms. De La Rosa.” The order is barked with such authority that it really does halt me in my tracks.
Georgie and Solana exchange a glance, and then we all watch as Drew goes to the door, quietly talking into his phone to the other guard outside. When he opens the door, there’s a small box sitting on the step, and a strange shudder crawls down my spine as I realize this wouldn’t be from Judge. There’s no way he’d not deliver something personally, and Drew confirms it when he bends down, carefully lifting the flap of the cardboard. His spine goes rigid, and he hangs up his phone abruptly, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“What is it?” I demand.
His lips flatten like he doesn’t want to answer. “I should talk to Santiago first—”
“Tell me.” I glare at him. “Right now, or I’ll come look myself.”
The crease between his brows intensifies, and he shakes his head, muttering his quiet response.
“It’s a plastic baby doll, chopped into pieces… and a blank invitation for a funeral.”
* * *