HauntingAdeline {1}

C24

The Manipulator

“Is there anything I need to know before you bring me into the pit of snakes?” I
ask as Zade drives up to the valet parking.
Valet parking at their own damn house. This shit should be illegal.
“In here, my name is Zack Forthright. I’m a self-made millionaire and have my
own company for web design. We live in Parsons Manor together and are a happy
couple, but I sneak around on you and go to gentlemen’s clubs without your
knowledge.”
My eyes snap to his. He’s been going to gentlemen’s clubs? As in, the clubs
that offer up women on a silver platter for men to get their rocks off to? Rich
people gentlemen’s clubs at that—ones occupied by corrupt sadists. Who knows
what happens in those places to those poor women?
Sensing my thoughts, he smirks. “Before you judge, I have not and will not
ever indulge in what they offer there, and eventually, I’ll get all those girls out.
But they don’t know that. Don’t be jealous, little mouse. No one will ever be
capable of getting my cock hard except you.”
The heroism wars with his imprudent assumption. Part of me wants to melt,
while the other stiffens into granite at being accused of such a thing.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not jealous,” I snipe. “And it sounds like you just have
erectile dysfunction to me.”
He bites back a grin, a knowing look gleaming in his eyes. His voice deepens
as he drawls lazily, “Keep it up, and you’ll be choking on those words when my
cock is filling up your throat again. Everyone passing by will see me fucking your
filthy little mouth, and there won’t be a single person in that house that won’t be
aware of it by the time I’m done.”
I scoff, turning my head away from him. Only to hide the blush that I feel
creeping up my cheeks and the sharp thrill chasing the nerves down my spine. I
still feel the phantom bite of metal from his belt buckle around my neck, and I
know with absolute certainty that Zade would follow through on his threat if I
pushed.
Dickhead.

He continues as if he didn’t just serve me the most delicious threat I’ve ever
heard. “Don’t speak of your personal life. Nothing that means anything to you
anyways. You’re here to get information on Gigi, and that’s incentive enough.”
“Incentive?” I interrupt, whipping my head back towards him.
“You’re walking into the viper’s pit because Mark found something that you
care about and is holding it over your head,” Zade explains plainly. I snap my
mouth shut, contrite and a little worried.
“If he finds out anything else you care about, that will be something he’ll use to
his advantage if he’s given the chance.”
My mouth falls back open. “But don’t worry,” he says, cutting in before I can
demand that he take me home. “I’ll flay his skin from his body before he can
even think to do anything to hurt you.”
With that, he opens the door, gets out and throws his keys at the waiting valet,
shutting the door firmly and cutting off any questions I had on the tip of my
tongue.
For starters, can I go home now?
I’m asking myself if solving Gigi’s murder is worth involving myself with
dangerous people. But it’s too late. I’m here, and I’m bound and determined to
get at least a few more of my questions answered before Zade takes me home.
I have the feeling that not only am I putting my safety in Zade’s hands tonight,
but my life.
Because I’m walking into a house owned by an evil man, I don’t need Zade to
spell that out for me.
Zade opens my door and holds out a hand for me to grab onto as I slide out of
the car. Electricity explodes from where his hand grips mine, and all I really want
to do is guide his hands to other parts of my body.
I suck in icy air, the cold offering a balm to my insides, and allowing me
enough clarity to concentrate on everything else besides the domineering man
beside me.
Mark’s house is ostentatious. A massive white monstrosity with five huge
pillars and a million windows. In my opinion, the house is ugly, typical and
downright boring.
The inside is even worse. I walk into a large, wide hallway with picture frames
lining either side of the wall of who I assume is Mark’s family. My heels click
against the ivory tile, and I can’t help but think it’s going to turn brown after all
the shoes that’ll be treading across it.
We’re ushered by a butler down the hallway, past an all-white kitchen and into
a ballroom.
An actual fucking ballroom.