Page 21 of Wild (Chicago Underground 4)
A mixture of shock and shame flushed through me. “Even if you’re right, then she’s confused. It was a rough night. There was no reason to be mean. I told her she’d be safe here.”
“Well, I didn’t beat her,” he said. “Would you have preferred I did?”
Philip’s tastes were extreme, perverted, violent—and strictly consensual. That was my cue. I got up and strolled over, resting my hip against his desk. “I’m sure I can stand in, if that’s what you want. You know I can keep you satisfied.”
“We’re not doing that.”
I paused. “Not now.”
“Not ever.” His face was set into a mask of implacability.
“Is this about what happened with Ella? I’ll talk to her. She won’t bother you again.”
“And neither will you.”
“Philip—”
Abruptly, he slammed his fist on the desk, and I jumped.
“How many ways do I have to say it? I don’t want her. I don’t want your desperation or your fucking gratitude.”
I stared at his fist where it pressed against the mahogany. “Then what do you want?”
Slowly, his hand unfurled, and he leaned back. “Nothing. You can stay here as long as you need. No one will fuck anyone.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t sound sure about that. “Where’s my phone?”
“We couldn’t risk it being tracked,” he answered smoothly. “I’d get you a temporary, but you don’t need one anyway while you’re here.”
There was my answer. I had lived in this house once as a pampered pet. Now it seemed the leash had tightened.
“Those charges are nothing but smoke and mirrors. I’ve already sent out some inquiries,” he said. “This will all be fixed soon enough.”
I watched his gaze flicker away for just long enough to let me know he was bluffing.
Chapter Eleven
I tracked Ella to the kitchen, which came as something of a surprise unless she was there to steal the silverware. Only the appliances gleamed gray, the flat-brushed metal nestled among swirled granite and knotted-wood cabinetry. The room was beautiful, warm, and complex—Adrian’s domain.
Ella sipped from a steaming mug as Adrian set a plate of biscotti down in front of her. He frowned when he saw me but without the usual mixture of distrust and anger in his eyes.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked, and it sounded like What the fuck did Philip do?
Seemed I wasn’t the only one adopting pets.
“I’m good. Can you give us a minute?”
Adrian left us, shooting daggers at me with his gaze that I interpreted as a warning to play nice. Obviously he wasn’t as familiar with Ella’s right hook as I was.
Ella stared fiercely at her coffee, stirring it with a piece of biscotti.
I pulled up a chair to the hand-scraped oak table. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“About what?”
“Any of it, sweetheart. What happened with Philip. Why you were working for Henri. What your damn name is. You’re killing me here.”
“I thought if I could… I didn’t want…” She dropped the soggy biscotti into the mug with a weak splash. “Like you said, if I had just done what I was supposed to do, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I didn’t want you to have to…have sex with Philip because of me.”
