Twisted Love (Twisted, #1)(73)

I didn’t deserve her.

“Is it because I told you I—” She paused, pink blossoming on her cheeks. “I loved you?”

“Of course not.” I tightened my hold and kissed her. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Okay, because you started acting weird right after…”

“It’s work,” I lied. “I’ve been stressed about the CEO transition.” Also partly true.

It was a testament to Ava’s trust that she took my words at face value. “You’ll be a great CEO.” She brushed her lips over a sensitive spot on my neck, and my cock jumped with interest. I hadn’t touched her in a week, and I was dying to tie her down and have my way with her. “Now, how about we alleviate that stress…”

I responded with a wicked grin. “I like the way you think.”

But as I carried her upstairs and fucked her in every position until she couldn’t scream anymore, the sense of impending doom hovering over me remained.





35





Alex





My world crashed down two weeks after my uncle’s visit.

I was driving to work when I received a call from Ivan “requesting” I visit him ASAP. He’d been suspiciously quiet since he was dethroned as CEO, but I knew why. I also knew why he’d asked for a visit—I’d been expecting it.

I called my assistant and told her to cancel the rest of my meetings for the day and made it to Philadelphia in two hours flat.

I slowed my steps as I walked up the stairs to my uncle’s office, sure he had cameras monitoring my every move since I pulled up to the estate’s gates.

I found him sitting behind his desk, watching his beloved Russian drama on the TV.

“Hello, uncle.” I leaned against the wall and stuffed my hands in my pockets, the picture of casual indifference.

Ivan’s eye twitched. “So you finally made it, you little shit.”

I suppressed a smile. My uncle rarely cursed; he must have been out of his mind with anger. I could see why; he looked horrible. I spotted a bald spot in his hair, as well as scaly red patches and a few nasty-looking pustular eruptions on his skin. His face looked haggard, his complexion wan.

For someone as vain as my uncle, the deterioration of his looks must be a living nightmare.

“I’ll always make time to visit my favorite uncle.” My only uncle, though not for much longer. “You don’t look so well. Stressed over losing your job?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You’re handing the CEO position back to me.”

I almost laughed out loud. “Why would I do that?”

“Because.” Ivan leaned back and laced his hands over his stomach. “I have something you want, and I have a feeling you’ll do anything to get it back—including resigning from Archer Group, reinstating me as CEO, and wiring me fifty million dollars. For the emotional distress,” he explained.

His mental facilities must be deteriorating faster than his physical appearance if he thought I would do any of those things.

“Sure you do,” I said indulgently. “Let’s see what this magical ‘something’ is first.”

“Did I say ‘something’?” Ivan’s eyes glowed with malice. “I meant ‘someone.’ Bring them in.” He barked the last statement in Russian.

There was a scuffle outside the door, and my blood ran cold when a massive man in camo pants and dog tags entered, dragging two bound and gagged girls behind him.

Ava and Bridget.

They stared at me, fear stamped on every inch of their faces.

It took every ounce of willpower not to display a visible reaction.

“I see,” I said in a bored voice. “Sorry, Uncle, but I don’t see anything—or anyone—that would make me consider giving you dogshit, much less fifty million dollars.”

A small cut marred Ava’s face. Tears stained her cheeks, and she stared at me with wide eyes, her distress evident. Bruises marked her arms from where Camo grabbed her, and I glimpsed red, chafed skin from where the rope dug into her wrists.

Ava. Hurt.

Wild, all-consuming anger erupted in my stomach until it filled every inch of my being.

I stared at Camo, and he stared back, smugness oozing from his ugly mug.

Not for much longer.

He was going to die today. Slowly. Painfully.

I was pleased to note he had several cuts and bruises of his own. Ava and Bridget had clearly put up a fight, but that didn’t matter.

He’d dared touch what was mine, and for that, I’d make him beg for something as sweet as death.

The guard I’d hired to look after Ava in case my uncle pulled shit like this? He would die too for failing at his job.

Beside Ava, Bridget shifted, her face pale. The small movement prompted Camo to yank her arm in warning, but to her credit, she didn’t flinch. Instead, she glared at him, her gaze flinty.

The regal princess, even when kidnapped.

Speaking of which, where the fuck was her bodyguard? Rhys was an ex-Navy SEAL. He should be more competent than the apparent moron I’d hired.

I didn’t have time to dwell on that question. I shifted my attention back to my uncle, who wore a knowing smirk.

“You can’t fool me, Alex,” he said, his voice thin and reedy. “I saw the way you looked at her. She’s the reason you pulled your punches with the revenge plan. You love her. But will she love you after she finds out what you did?”