“Jean, can you—”
I lean over and swipe the phone off his desk and onto the floor. Landon’s face takes on a surprised look before finding my eyes and glaring.
“Fine, I’ll sign the papers. Just-just let me go home. I want to go back and see Jayden, say goodbye,” I plead, pressing the palm of my hand to my head, trying to think past my manic state.
Landon sighs, rubbing at his tired eyes.
“Please,” I beg, tears pricking at my eyes. My anger, my fury, and dangerous state have dissipated to pure desperation. Landon’s head whips up from my trembling voice, his face taking on a look of sympathy.
“I’m just supposed to trust that you won’t try and run?” Landon questions, his tone lighter than he’s been speaking to me the whole night. I shrug, not sure what to say to that. He shouldn’t trust me, but I need him to.
He runs his hands through his hair and nods. A loud sigh leaves my mouth, relieved I will get to go home, even if it’s for the last time.
“I’ll send Osborn with you. He’ll be watching you throughout the night, and if you so much as try anything…” Landon lowers his head and glowers, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “That person who means so much to you—Jayden, was it—will suffer the consequences,” Landon threatens, making me swallow hard. “You will return bright and early tomorrow, arriving ready to start your position as an escort,” he continues.
“I will.” I nod quickly, sealing my fate as a sex slave for who knows how long. I thought getting a pimp was bad, but this? This is so much worse. I can feel it in my gut.
“Charlie, make sure and say your goodbyes, because tomorrow you’re mine fully. Kiss your old life, your friends, family, Mick, all farewell.”
I close my eyes, trying to hold the tears pricking at my eyes at bay. When I finally get a grip on myself, I find Landon picking up the phone from the floor.
“Osborn, I have a job for you tonight. I need you to take Charlie back to her place, and see to it that she does not go anywhere else. She is to return back to the estate at sunrise,” Landon demands before hanging up.
His demented green eyes find mine, eyes I used to find gorgeous yet all I see in them now is a monster. Landon clearly isn’t the guy I thought he was. Well, guess what? He doesn’t know who the hell he’s fucking with. I won’t make my staying here easy on him.
“Enjoy your few hours of freedom, Charlie.”
THIRTEEN
LANDON
I slump in my chair, tearing my tie from my neck. I’m angry. So angry, I could throw this fucking desk out the window. I can’t make up or down of this situation. When I saw her in the back of the limo, my chest constricted and my dick twitched to have her. Regret plowed through me like a sledgehammer for leaving her at that hotel. But I quickly reminded myself why I left. I lose control around Charlie, and I need to stay focused. She’s a problem, a very big problem. She gets under my skin, causes me to question why I’m even running this estate.
It’s my legacy to sit in this chair and hustle women, but it’s a promise that has kept me here. A promise that I would restore the Blackwell name, but Charlie has me questioning all of it.
She told me no. She fucking told me no. Nobody tells me no. No woman turns down a position at the Blackwell Estate. It irritates me, yet makes my cock hard at the same time. She told me she was that boy’s whore when I met her, but I just thought she was being hard on herself. After the way the night unfolded, I was sure of it. However, after the last hour, I don’t know what to fucking think.
“She gone?” Roman peeks his head around the door, looking around. I nod, rubbing my thumb and forefinger over my chin.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but that girl looks a lot like—”
“Don’t!” I interrupt, my fists clenching with anger. I know what he’s going to say. Father had me tailed, so I’m sure there were photos taken of Charlie at the hotel.
Roman sighs and slumps down in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
“I get it, man.”
“No, you don’t. That woman, that girl…” I point at the door and look at Roman, my forehead sweating from anger and confusion.
“Landon, you’re the only guy I know, Blackwell or not, who has never had a woman at some point bring him to his knees. Blackwell training be damned,” Roman explains, shaking his head.
We were trained growing up to resist temptation. After all, we sell women who use their bodies as paychecks, to gain what they want and need out of life. It’s up to us to resist it, to run a business.