Make You Mine by Jackie Ashenden

Author:Jackie Ashenden [Ashenden, Jackie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781466852587
Google: F_zdBAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00OO3CJQM
Barnesnoble: B00OO3CJQM
Goodreads: 23396548
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2015-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Alex picked his cuff links up off the black marble of the vanity and clipped them on, his movements sharp and precise. He didn’t look at his reflection in the mirror, only running one hand through his hair. It was still damp from the shower, but fuck it. Conrad was always perfectly presented, but he could take Alex as he came.

Alex grinned at his own dark humor as he turned and strode out of the bathroom. Conrad wouldn’t, of course, be taking him anywhere. This time he’d be the one doing the taking.

Over the past couple of days, he’d perfected his revenge plan. One that would take everything that mattered to Conrad and would, Alex hoped, leave him a sobbing, begging mess at the end of it.

First he was going to let Conrad believe he had all the power at the game, since that’s what got the guy off and would lull him into a false sense of security. It would also give Alex and Katya some time to investigate things for Zac, Eva, and Gabriel, and Alex hoped they would get some important information that would be of use.

Then once that was achieved he would somehow get rid of the other players so it was just him and Conrad, a one-on-one game.

Then Alex would up the stakes. Make the other man hungry. Make him want. Make him so desperate he’d do anything to win. Anything such as putting his own club up for grabs. All his money. His livelihood.

And only then, when he was sure of a win, would Alex beat Conrad, and he would beat him. Make him realize he’d lost everything.

And as the final pièce de résistance, Alex would get out a gun and put it to that fucker’s head and make him beg for the last thing he had: his life. Perhaps he’d put a bullet through Conrad’s brain, like Eva said. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe just the sight of Conrad crying in fear, the way Alex had sobbed when Conrad had bent him over the cold tiles of that bathroom, would be enough.

Whatever happened, one thing was certain. That motherfucker was going down.

Out in the lounge area, Katya sat on the couch, going through the purse on her lap. There was no sign that that was where she slept every night, folding up the blankets and putting them away so no one knew their real sleeping arrangements. He’d tried to get her to swap places so she had the bed, but she’d refused and hell, if she wanted to martyr herself on the couch then he was happy for her to do so.

She was wearing a cocktail dress that looked like a glittering green-gold spiderweb. It left one shoulder bare, the hem ending at mid-thigh, her long, toned legs on show. It was strapless too, her shoulders milky pale against the silk. He’d insisted she wear her hair down and she’d pulled the thick golden waterfall to one side. The colors gleamed in the light, gilt and caramel and deep guinea gold.

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