Page 93 of Angel

None of them are with their wives.

I assess the situation and look away. I have no wish to speak to any of them. I am here for intelligence gathering and to protect Sophie. The less I get involved in this shit, the better.

“I would be honored to give you a guided tour of the boat.”

I overhear Sam telling Sophie, and she turns to me and says brightly, “That would be great, wouldn’t it, Jason?”

Sam’s smile dims as I slide my hand around her waist and stamp my ownership because that is all these guys understand.

“It would.”

He nods, defeat heavy in his eyes.

As guided tours go, I have no desire to admire the furnishings or opulence on board. I see things very differently from Sophie, and check out the crew, the guests and the set up for a very different reason. I notice a few women who appear to be single, misery surrounding them as they plaster on false smiles while they attempt to rearrange dresses that reveal a little too much.

I notice the track marks on one girl’s arm that she attempts to conceal with a wrap. It slips as we pass, and I note the pallor of her skin.

The cabins are opulent, and I register the modifications Sam must have ordered. Beams in the bedrooms above four-poster beds. Some are unusually large rooms and some of the beds are round. He avoids one room entirely, and Sophie asks with an innocence I love, “What’s in here?”

He doesn’t break a sweat. “Nothing of interest. Merely storage.”

We walk on past a room that definitely doesn’t contain storage. I noticed the keyhole, which is unusual on a yacht, and its distance from the next door, revealing it’s a bigger room than the others on this deck.

I’m guessing Sophie would have discovered exactly what is in that room if she were here alone, and I thank God she asked me to come with her.

This isn’t a party in the usual sense of the word; it’s a felony on every level.

I wonder what he has on her?

Men like Sam don’t invite popular stars to their sex parties unless they are confident they won’t talk. There is obviously something he has on her that would persuade her to play his dirty little games and keep quiet about it.

The guests upstairs are what I expected. A few businessmen I have heard of; their reputations are not the best. The obvious hookers, their country of origin suspicious. The famous actor who is off his head on drugs already and a known criminal and his men, undoubtedly the resource for the girls and the drugs that I’m guessing will be more plentiful than food this weekend.

He shows us to a small cabin on the lower deck.

“I’m sorry, Sophie, but when you mentioned you were bringing a guest, I had to fit both of you in. This cabin was the only one left.”

She smiles, but I note her stiffen because it’s obvious he had intended her to share a cabin with him, or is it someone else?

He avoids my gaze, and my temper flares, something I’m good at hiding until I unleash it on my prey. Not this weekend, I remind myself. This is merely for intelligence, nothing else.

The engines start, and Sam grins. “We’re off already. You are going to love the voyage.”

He winks at Sophie, who smiles, but it’s a thin one, and as we follow him back to the main deck, she grips my hand hard.

CHAPTER 37

SOPHIE

Thank God I brought Jason with me. This is obviously a setup. This party would have been the ruin of me if I had come alone. It’s obvious by the people here and the way Sam undresses me with his eyes. The choice of cabin told me that. It wouldn’t surprise me if I was meant to share his. I’ve been in this position before and always managed to avoid becoming the victim. I doubt this time I would have been so lucky.

Sam wanders off to a group of people I will avoid like the plague. In particular, the guy with the Italian suit, slicked back hair and intense gaze. He reminds me of my father. I am in no doubt he is just like him.

The woman pressed against his side looks miserable as hell and he doesn’t even look at her once. She is standing there gripping a glass, looking as if she would prefer to be anywhere else but here. I share her desire.

“This is awful.” I whisper to Jason, and he nods.

“I would have chosen a stronger word.”