Breaker (Unmasked #3)

19. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Cora

B efore I was kidnapped and taken to a secluded run-down mansion by four hot masked men who threatened to fuck me constantly, then claimed me in some weird primal way, then two of them actually did fuck me, I enjoyed work.

I loved waking up, preparing myself for the day, picking out sharply tailored suits and stiletto heels, slipping them on like armor readying myself for battle. Because that’s what the days often felt like. Being a head accountant for a large corporation isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s not just numbers and keeping track of expenditures, it’s looking into deals and finding loopholes. It’s making sure we’re the one’s fucking someone over, rather than getting fucked.

And then there was the ledgers. Hiding millions. Laundering hundreds of thousands through mergers and bullshit purchases. Delly and I were good at it. Delly was always able to spot a flaw in a deal and rework the numbers. I was good at hiding money.

We grew Rune’s fortune. We hid his activities, even though we had no idea what we were hiding. We made this job look easy, the two of us.

Today I’m dreading it. Today I feel like a pawn, just a piece to be moved around on the board. Even though I’m wearing my armor, I don’t feel ready. I miss my pretty floral dresses and my combat boots. I miss my warm sweaters and thick socks.

I miss them.

I don’t want to be here, tucked between Clyde and the side door, headed for the office to resume my job, return to my role as Rune’s accountant. Until I’m Zane’s wife that is. Maybe he won’t care if I have a job, or if Rune uses me. It’s not like Zane’s marrying me because he likes me. He’s doing it for money, greed, and to be connected to Rune even more.

It’s all just a cruel reminder that after wanting away from Rune for so long, I’m finally getting my wish. Except now instead of freedom, I’m getting Zane, and his darkness is just as bad.

When we pull up in front of the office complex, my heart hammers. Last time I was in this building, I was watching Rune’s soldiers being shot and was forced away from the only life I’ve ever known and thrust into a dream.

I feel like I’m waking up now, but instead of reality being a comfort, it’s a nightmare. Like layers of gauze are being stripped away as the hours pass and everything I went through, the confusion, the fear, the lust, and the acceptance, were just some dream and I never left here. Like my body stayed and my mind wandered to a place that I was wanted and desired and dare I say, liked.

I lean back into the leather seat as Conner hops out and rushes around to open my door. My heel clacks on the concrete sidewalk as I step out. Noise hits me like a train. Cars honking, people talking. The sound of a motor revving, like a race car or motorcycle, from nearby, makes me wince.

Taking a deep breath, inhaling the warm, exhaust scented air, I smooth my skirt down, then adjust my sunglasses as I look up at the tall building, trying to calm my breathing.

People mill about, talking on phones and texting. Cars honk and an engine roars again. I glance over and spot a black motorcycle—one of those crotch rocket things— parked a few cars down at the curb with a rider dressed all in black, his shiny visor on the helmet reflecting the bright morning sun. A black leather boot like the ones our men wear rest on the curb. Thick black gloves grip the handlebars. Clyde grasps my hand and tugs me forward, pulling my attention back to him.

“Cora!”

My heart slams into my chest and oil pools in my gut. I turn just in time to see Zane headed in my direction, arms outstretched like he’s going to—

I wince as his arms wrap around me and I’m pressed to his sleazy chest. He’s nowhere near as tall as the boys, nowhere near as built and it feels like being coiled up in the slithering body of a serpent, its cold body squeezing me too tightly. His cologne invades my nostrils, making my stomach roil. Zane smells like musk, but not underline with woodsy lust, he’s dank and venomous. Being hugged by this creep is a betrayal not only to my senses but to Delly and to the men.

And I’m expected to marry him. Part my legs for him. Birth his babies.

I have got to figure out a way out of this.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Zane says stepping back, holding me by the shoulders to run his eyes over my body.

I plaster a smile on my face. “I wasn’t aware that my well-being was a concern for you.” Behind me, I’m aware of Clyde slipping away to wait by the door. He can’t stand Zane, but he’s leaving me to fend for myself like the coward he is. “Or that you had any concern for anything or anyone other than yourself.”

That slithering smile curls into something dark as he drops his hands from my shoulders. My stomach lurches. I need to remember who he is.

Rune didn’t pick him to be his second because he’s decent. He picked him because he’s viscous. Cunning. And can mold himself to be anything to get himself ahead.

And mold he did.

Zane knows how to play the game and the slimeball will turn on someone on a dime. I’ve witnessed first-hand just how good he is at hiding what he’s really like under his Ken doll appearance.

He shakes his head, that smirk turning from slimy to knowing. “So much like your mother.”

My teeth gnash together to keep my mouth closed, but the words still slip out. “Funny. I wasn’t aware you knew my mother.”

His jaw tics. “In passing. You can’t work for Rune as long as I have and not have met the infamous Caroline Julian.”

“Infamous?” I ask sweetly, adjusting my messenger bag draped over my shoulder. “In what way?”

His gaze rakes down my body, making me wish I had chosen a different outfit. With how his hazel eyes drink me in, I’m regretting my heels and skirt. I wish I’d opted for pants so he couldn’t see the shape of my legs, the slenderness of my ankles.

Licking my lips, I step away, not sure how to deal with his open surveying of my body. Zane’s always been obsessed with Delly, rarely looking my way. Having his full attention is extremely uncomfortable, making me feel like a bug under a microscope. No wonder Delly was constantly trying to avoid him. But I guess now that Zane’s been told I’ll be his wife, he thinks he can behave in whatever manner he likes.

We’ll see. If I can handle Rune, I can deal with Zane and his serial killer vibes. Asshole probably killed kittens as a boy or peeped inside girls windows.

Or had a fetish for sniffing older women’s underwear.

His eyes slip back up to mine, leaving my body tingling with unease, that knowing grin still playing on his lips. “In what way does any woman become infamous, Cora?”

This time I don’t bother attempting to stop my mouth from opening. “Fraud, extortion.” I lean in to whisper, “Murder.”

His eyes light up. Not what I was expecting.

“This is going to be fun,” he says.

I make a conscious effort to look unfazed, as my insides scream. No one besides Rune, knows that I know my mother had his wife killed. And Rune knows I know because he flat out told me the day he took me in and set me down in what would be my bedroom.

I can still smell his cologne as he hugged me close and told me that I was traitor blood. That I was lucky he was kind and compassionate, and the only reason he didn’t kill me was because Delilah loved me, and her heart was broken enough.

He made sure I knew my place, and that my life was only valuable as long as his daughter loved me. I was well aware of how little I was worth before Rune took me in. And was made aware of how lower I’d just fell. But to have him say it, made me want to cry not just myself, but for Delly. Maybe that’s why I always felt the need to protect her.

She didn’t know her father was bad.

But I did. And I knew at ten just how to detect vile men, and the one before me is just as bad as Rune because he’s a traitor like my mother.

“Have a good day, Zane.” I step around him, eyes locked on the front of the building. A firm grip on my bicep stops me mid-stride, and I glare over my shoulder at Zane who’s apparently lost his mind in the last three weeks.

His hand drops to his side, but I note how his fingers flex, like Rune does right before he lashes out. “Has Rune filled you in on the details?” Zane asks.

I catch the hint of a smile and my stomach roils. “Same old shit, different day, right? We make deals, we hide evil, and we make even more money. Just another day in paradise,” I snark, “Except I get the disadvantage of having to see your dick when the ink’s dry.”

Zanes eyes narrow, slightly irritated by my insult, my presence and the fact we’re talking, which fits him better than the fake concern. I’m not stupid enough to think he gave a shit if I was okay. And it’s no wonder he’s irritated. I was returned, and I’m not Delly. I’m set to be his wife. Not Delly.

He sighs. “A deal’s a deal so we have to move forward. Besides, Cora it won’t be…”

I nod absently, only half listening—half caring— that he’s talking to me. “Yeah. I guess being kidnapped, doesn’t give me a pass. Duties and all.”

When I move toward the door again, a passerby slams into me. On instinct, I shove him back as he mumbles an apology, and my eyes land on the biker. My step falters. There’s something about him…

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

My eyes snap over Zane. He’s beside me, features contorted messily, like his mask slipped and all that ugliness living in him leaks through.

I recoil at his expression and his tone. “Excuse me?

“I said, look at me when I speak to you.” The harsh grip on my chin, makes me wince, bitter fear flooding my mouth. The possessive, angry flare in his eyes makes me jerk away, but his grip tightens, fingers digging harshly into my skin. My heart skips in all the wrong ways, the angry grip and the violent tone reminding me so much of Rune that I freeze in place, blinking stupidly as Zane leans in and says, “I don’t like repeating myself. When I give you an order—”

An engine revving drowns out the rest of his words and unfreezes me. I jerk back, Zane’s fingers slipping away, the same time Conner drives away and the black motorcycle skids to a stop at the curb.

Zane turns around long enough to glance at the bike, and grips my arm, pulling me forward. I snatch my arm back, freeing myself from his hold as I watch the rider swing his long leg over the bike and stride, with slow, deliberate steps toward us.

Like he can sense the dark presence storming up behind him, Zane turns back around and before he even has a chance, the rider grabs him by his face and tugs him forward, looming over him menacingly. Black gloved fingers dig harshly into Zane’s cheeks the same way Zane was holding me, but hard enough that his lips part.

Spittle flies from Zane’s mouth, his eyes burning red as he grunts and tries to talk, but the rider only pinches his cheeks tighter.

“Back off!” Clyde screams and suddenly things are moving. People gasp, a woman scurries into the front of the building.

Someone screams.

Clyde steps up next to me, arm outstretched, gun in one hand pointed directly at the rider’s head.

“I said back off, buddy,” Clyde growls. “Unless you want your father to struggle to identify your body after I release this entire clip into your helmet, I suggest you let him go.”

With a brutal shove, the rider pushes Zane away, taking a step back. His covered face turns to me, and he nods, before he turns his back to us, and stalks away. The engine is deafening as the bike roars to life, and he rides away.

My cackle breaks through the air, unfreezing everyone.

“What the fuck was that?” Zane screams, sobering me quickly. “Get some fucking decent security Harlow! I want that mother fucker tracked down.”

Clyde nods, waving away onlookers and sliding his gun in its holster at his back. “I’ll get the security footage and see if we can get a read on the plates.”

Zane doesn’t answer, just pops his neck and rubs his jaw, stalking toward the entrance. “I want him found Harlow,” he throws over his shoulder. “And I want a new security team.”

Clyde shakes his head, glancing down the street before taking my hand. “I swear, girl, you attract trouble everywhere you go.”