Dane glared down at his shaky fiancée gripping his legs, trying hard not to lose it and kill someone.
His eyes zeroed in on Raven, icy and hard.
“You’re testing me, woman,” he snarled, his voice dropping low and rough.
Madeline caught what he said, and a nasty little smirk flashed in her eyes as she peeked at Raven.
She was dead sure this girl was toast–done for good.
But Brynjar and the two guys next to him? Their faces scrunched up weird, like they were choking back laughs.
To them, this guy–the big–shot CEO of Bastion’s biggest group–was a total joke.
He was such a clueless moron.
Raven wouldn’t even spare him a glance before.
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Actuanlly, they reckoned Raven could snap her fingers and make his whole company disappear before breakfast if she felt like it.
Pushing Dane’s limits? Yeah, right. He’d be lucky if she stomped all over his precious “line” and left it in the dust.
Raven swapped out the first blood tube she’d just filled, hooking up a new bag and throwing the empty one aside. Then she finally glanced up at Dane.
“Testing?” she said, all soft and slow, a smirk creeping onto her face.
“Here’s the thing–I get a kick out of testing how low people can go,” she added, cool as ever.
With that, she gave Brynjar a chill little nod.
Brynjar didn’t miss a beat. He stepped up and tapped Dane’s knee with his boot.
“Thud!” It sounded like a muffled drum hitting the floor.
Dane’s legs gave out, and he crashed down, kneeling right there in front of Raven.
His knees screamed, but the real pain was the humiliation slamming into him like a freight train.
His sharp eyes locked onto Raven, like he could rip her apart just by staring.
If he couldn’t make this woman miserable, he’d be ashamed of himself for the rest of his life.
Meanwhile, Madeline–who’d been hanging onto Dane’s legs–was stuck, jaw dropped.
She couldn’t wrap her head around it:
Dane, the cold–blooded king who owned everything, on his knees for some girl half her age.
No chance.
Guys like Dane didn’t kneel for anybody.
Raven didn’t even seem to notice the death glare he was throwing. She just grabbed a big empty blood bag and tossed it at
his feet.
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Chapter 5
“His fiancée needs blood, right? Life or death stuff. Drain him and hook her up,” she said, chill like she was ordering a latte.
“You got it, boss!” Brynjar said, all chipper.
He scooped up the bag from the ground and popped the needle cap off.
One of the guys behind Dane slammed a solid kick into his back,
Dane let out a grunt as his face smashed into the floor.
Once he was down, the two pinned his arms, holding him tight like a human trap.
Brynjar slid the needle into Dane’s vein like it was nothing.
Blood started flowing, a steady red stream filling the bag.
“What are you doing? Stop it!” Madeline screamed.
She snapped out of her shock, lunging to stop them.
Brynjar flicked his hand at her, casual as swatting a bug.
Madeline went flying back like a rag doll, tumbling a good ten feet across the floor before sliding to a stop.
Dane, face still kissing the ground, heard the chaos. His heart stopped for a second.
He twisted his head, stif
as hell, to check on Madeline.
When he spotted the cut on her forehead, he thrashed like a wild animal.
But his arms? Locked down tight–those two weren’t budging.
Madeline just stared at Dane, sprawled out and bleeding in the most embarrassing way possible. She shook her head, barely whispering.
She couldn’t believe her eyes.
No way. The Dane she knew–the guy who ran the show and owned everyone–couldn’t look this weak.
This was a nightmare.
A nightmare without a wake–up to escape.
As her whole world started crumbling from what she was seeing, the blood bag next to Dane kept filling up.
Pretty soon, it was full to the top.
Brynjar pulled the needle out.
He didn’t bother cleaning anything–just grabbed the bag and headed for Madeline.
Dane saw where Brynjar was going and flipped out.
“Don’t you dare!” he yelled, his voice shaking with rage.
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