Page 65 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
When I’m returned to my cage that evening by Scar, there’s a note on the bathroom mirror I can’t miss.
* * *
Shower.
You have one hour to be dressed and ready.
* * *
I’m smart enough to know when to push and when to yield—a little. After my defiance this afternoon, I decide there’s no harm in following the instructions.
After a quick shower, I hurry to get ready in the allotted time. I’m not high maintenance, but it takes forever to dry my hair. I don’t have a clue how much time has passed because Scar didn’t bring my purse, so I rush through everything I can. I duck into the closet and find a white dress hanging up that’s similar in style to the black one I wore earlier. As I slide it on, I can’t help but feel like I’m about to become a sacrificial offering.
I’m waiting in the sitting room when Scar arrives, hood in hand again.
At least I made it within the allotted time.
Scar carries me up and down stairs, around twists and turns, and there’s no doubt in my mind I’m being delivered to Mount to face the consequences of my actions this afternoon. Magnolia’s warnings sweep through my mind again, and I tell myself it was worth it.
When Scar finally places me on my feet, I rip the hood off, instantly on guard.
This is a new room for me. Everything about it exudes power with zero subtlety, including the massive desk that Mount sits behind and the monitors in front of him that slide out of sight, disappearing into hidden compartments.
He looks over my shoulder, rather than at me, and gives Scar a nod. There’s a whooshing noise behind me and then silence.
Alone again and completely at his mercy. Or am I?
Mount opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before he can start. A good offense is the best defense, right?
“So, now you’re tracking my every movement? Sending your henchman to retrieve me the second I step out of line? I told you, you don’t get to fuck with every aspect of my life, and I meant it.”
The darkness that’s almost always present in his expression deepens. “I can’t decide if you’re stupid or just bold to defy me the way you do.”
“So, what are you going to do? Kill me?” Even as the question comes out of my mouth, I regret offering up the idea.
Mount’s dark eyes narrow but a chilling smile spreads across his face. “No, but I’m going to make sure you think long and fucking hard about ever disobeying me again.”
“You—”
He lifts his chin as if daring me to continue with whatever insult I’m going to hurl at him, and I snap my mouth shut, my teeth closing over my lip to keep it in.
“Come here.”
I swallow, because rounding that desk is the last thing I want to do right now, but something in his expression tells me disobedience would be a very bad idea.
My heels, ones that I assume he chose himself, click on the hardwood as I come around the desk toward him. I only make it halfway before Mount shoves out of his heavy leather chair and stops me by gripping me around the waist and lifting me onto his empty desk.
Did he plan this in advance? The trepidation I felt in the restaurant is nothing compared to what’s charging through my veins now.
“What are you going to do?”
“Don’t make me gag you too.”
Too?
His big hand lands between my breasts, and he presses me down until I’m spread flat across the desk, my knees bending over the side. My heels drop off my feet, one at a time, and hit the floor.
“Mount—” True panic comes through when I say his name.
