The Scotch King (Scotch 1) - Page 4

Dunbar set her on the cot and pulled the blanket over her shoulders since she was frozen from the trek across the lawn. He pulled her hair out of her face and took a good look at her. “I’m excited for a go. She really is as beautiful as Ethan said.” He left her on the cot then closed the door, locking her up in a cell made of steel bars. She had no privacy from anyone within the basement. But now that she was no longer a real person, it didn’t matter. She was my retribution for what Joseph had done to me. I would get the four million dollars that was owed to me.

Actually, London would.

Everyone except my butler left for the day. Ariel and Dunbar took the helicopter back to the mainland, where they lived their own lives and spent their free time. I remained in the living room, drinking scotch in front of the fire and placing the cool glass against my temple when I felt a migraine coming on.

I enjoyed the peace and quiet this island provided. Sometimes it felt like just me and the sea, the waves crashing down against the cliff right outside my front window. I liked to keep the windows open so I could listen to the rhythmic sound. Something about its consistency stilled my nerves. Just like the sun would rise and set every single day, the waves would meet the shore, unaffected by any living man. The absolute power the elements had over mankind was fascinating to me.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t crave that kind of power myself.

Thump.

I stopped breathing when I heard the sound.

Thump. Thump.

I concentrated on the sound to pinpoint where it was coming from. Sometimes the wind howled on a cruel night, but there hadn’t been a storm in the forecast. I abandoned my scotch on the table and rose to my feet, thinking of where my weapons were stowed in the house, easily accessible from every room.

Thump.

My eyes darted to the ground, realizing exactly where the noise was coming from.

The basement.

My guest was awake.

I walked down the stairs to the basement wearing jeans and a t-shirt now that everyone had left for the day. After I opened the door, I peeked down the stairway and spotted London. She stood back on one leg and kicked the bars as hard as she could, trying to make them crack under her power. The force was so minimal, the bars didn’t even shake. She aimed for the hinges of the door but that didn’t make a difference either. Absorbed in her poor attempt to free herself, she didn’t notice my light footsteps as I approached the bottom of the basement. “The only thing you’re going to break is your knee.”

At the sound of my voice, she stood back, her forehead gleaming with sweat and her hair messy from exerting herself. Her hands were still held in front of her body, prepared for anything.

I walked to the door and looked at her, noting the way her jeans hugged her curvy hips and thin legs. The gray V-neck she wore pointed to her tiny waist, her natural hourglass figure obvious. She was definitely pretty, but she didn’t do anything for me. The guys talked about her like she was a perfect ten.

She was a perfect nobody to me.

“These bars are made out of steel, in case you didn’t notice. And we’re in the middle of the ocean on an island, so if you break something, you’re on your own. All I’ve got is Tylenol.” I stood at the bars and examined her, my arms crossed over my chest.

Despite her dire circumstance, she didn’t seem scared. She only appeared calculating, her brain working furiously to figure out what her next move should be. She tried to find a solution rather than give in to the panic.

“It’s time to make introductions. I’m Crewe—and I own you.”

As if I had slapped her, her eyes narrowed into a threatening expression. “What did you just say to me?” She walked toward the bars, having no reluctance for coming close to me. If I slid my arm through the bars, I could grab her by the neck. “I don’t give a damn who you are. You don’t own me. Nobody owns me.” She jabbed her finger into her chest, amplifying her meaning.

I liked her fire. She had a lot more courage than that pussy-shit brother of hers. “You’ll change your mind…in time.” I came closer to the bars, getting a better look at her. She had a nice mouth, wide with soft lips. I had the urge to run my thumb along her bottom lip, but I had no interest in kissing her. I just wanted to touch her—to pet her.

“I’m gonna get out of here. And when I do, I’m going to rip your eyes out of your head and shove them up your ass.”

Tags: Penelope Sky Scotch Billionaire Romance
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