36

Five days later…
Maria
“What a very good girl indeed.”
I snapped my head up, my pulse racing. I could swear the voice was right behind me. I scanned the room in the mirror, seeing no one. I hadn’t experienced a single flashback in days. Why now? The note. It had to be because of the note I held in my shaking hands.
“You’re… terrible.”
“Yes, I am. Be careful, little fawn. There are beasts crawling in these hallways. I wouldn’t want to see you get eaten.”
I bit my lower lip to keep from making a single sound. My voice. Who was I calling terrible? A dull ache formed behind my eyes, and I closed them for a few seconds. Then the pull from what I’d discovered earlier dragged a trickle of fear down my spine. I took a deep breath, holding it as I peered at the crudely written statement, the warning threatening to shatter the beautiful world I was attempting to create.
You don’t know who you’re sleeping with. They are murderers.
Swallowing, I wanted to crumple the fucking piece of paper and throw it in the trash. Instead, I read it for a fifth time. I’d walked into my dressing room to find it taped to the mirror so I wouldn’t miss it. Whoever was determined to ruin my life had a twisted sense of humor, writing the words using a quill pen dipped in red ink, allowing for the author to be creative in his or her lettering. The words appeared as if they were written in blood.
Exhaling, I looked away, uncertain what to think or do. It was the second note I’d received, the first only telling me to be careful. I assumed they meant being cautious about Clinton, Weston, and Christian. I was no fool. They were dangerous men, but with me they were entirely different. I’d become the light to their darkness. I was certain of it.
I’d also grilled them on who they were, even laughing with them as they’d talked about the article I’d found, sharing with me stories about their enemies. Nothing crazy had happened, the three men handling business while weaving time spent with me both as a foursome and singularly.
Everything had been like a blissful whirlwind, the time more enjoyable than any other I could remember in my life. We’d lounged in the sun, and Clinton had even taken me on a tour of Chicago. We’d eaten at two incredible restaurants, both times returning to his estate. The four of us. Maybe I should have spent more time asking questions than pretending I was living every girl’s fantasy.
Or maybe someone was trying to derail our happiness. They were some of the most eligible bachelors in the country. And I was a rockstar. Laughing, I attempted to push the anxiety aside.
I closed my eyes, trying to conjure up the dreams from days before. Little pet. The two words seemed to spark the memories and dreams. But were they false memories as the doctor had mentioned was possible? I wasn’t certain what they were any longer. What I did know was that for the first time, I felt like I belonged to someone and had something special.
Damn anyone who tried to take it from me.
I reminded myself that bits and pieces of what had occurred around the mysterious accident could come to me. The doctor had said the memories could return like clips from a movie, which was exactly what was happening. He’d also said they could be skewed or completely wrong. He’d suggested I keep notes, and that at some point, my mind would be ready to accept the truth.
I’d done it for a little while, then stopped. Recently, I’d started again, given the tenacity of the nightmares. What I didn’t want to happen was for my psychosis to interrupt either the residency or the joyous time spent with my gorgeous hunks.
My three men also always managed to catch at least a part of my show. I tingled just thinking about them, my entire body sore from the hours of making love.
As well as the numerous spankings I’d received. I twisted on my seat, biting my lower lip to keep from moaning. The afternoon spanking had been a doozy, and while I hated to admit it, justified. I’d purposely gotten away from one of Clinton’s bodyguards so I could do a little shopping on my own. I wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for a couple days given my bottom was covered in strap marks.
Now, my pussy quivered from the tongue lashing I’d received afterwards, my legs spread wide open and Clinton’s face buried in my wetness. “Stop it, girl.” I fanned my face and returned my gaze to the note.
Another canvas of color floated in front of my eyes, but a light prevented me from seeing who was holding my arm. This time the vision was even more vivid, although the details were still foggy.
“Na…no. He owns a restaurant.” I was insistent, but to whom?
“I feel sorry for you. That’s why Clinton hates you so much. Your daddy killed his brother.”
I could tell I was terrified. I was also groggy. Like I’d been drugged. “Let me go.” My voice didn’t even sound like my own.
“That’s not going to happen. You’re very valuable. Imagine the fun we’re going to have using their desire against them.”
Oh, God. I recognized the angry male voice. No. It couldn’t be one of them. Not my men. No. It wasn’t possible.
“Girl. Calm down.” At least saying the words out loud dragged me from the vision. My father couldn’t kill anyone. Clinton’s brother? I didn’t even know he had a brother.
What I did know was that it was time to grill my parents. I’d been pushing it off because I didn’t want to know if there was some ugly secret from my past. Now, I doubted I could avoid it any longer.
A chill remained, but the moment I entertained the sweet thoughts of having all my holes filled with their fabulous thick cocks, I was warmed up. Was it possible someone could fall in love with three powerful men? How would that work? The thoughts added prickly heat as well as desire. Love wasn’t on the table. I knew better than to think that.
The hard knock brought a smile to my face. I quickly shoved the note into my drawer. “Come in.”
I knew Emerald was behind the huge bouquet of flowers, but it was difficult to see anything from the number of Marias creatively placed in the crystal vase. “More flowers.”
I couldn’t help but giggle, which didn’t suit my personality at all. However, in the five days since I’d spent a magical night with three of the most gorgeous men in the universe, everything had changed. My attitude. My outlook. Even thoughts on my future, although I’d kept those little pinpricks of information to myself for the time being.
“They’re incredible. I didn’t know Marias existed in bright orange.”
She sat the vase down close to the other two that had arrived only moments before, shaking her head as she stared at the massive array. “Honey, you can get them in any color of the rainbow, including black. They’re dyed. And if those boys give you black flowers, run far and fast.”
I rolled my eyes and finished powdering my nose. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”
“Who’s being melodramatic?” She came up behind me, staring at our combined reflection in the mirror of my dressing table. “It’s just that they are obsessed, and I don’t like that.”
“Because they give me flowers?”
“Not just once, but every night you perform. They follow you around or have one or more of their guards trapse behind you like lapdogs. Clinton has taken to having every person who comes to your show checked for everything from weapons to God knows what. Now that’s fine and dandy, but it tells me that they know you’re in danger because of who you are.”
“They’re just a little possessive.”
“I don’t like it.”
I swung around on my chair. “Emerald. You’ve alluded to the fact that Clinton is a bad guy. Now, you’re telling me all of them are. What exactly aren’t you telling me?”
The look on her face changed. She twisted her mouth, sucking on her lower lip. “All I know is that your parents won’t be happy that you’re spending time with one of them, let alone three. It’s all a sick game.”
“That’s it.” I stood, folding my arms. “What in the hell is going on? Did my parents hire you? Did they send you my way to watch out for me?” My voice had risen several decibels, the tone terser than I’d ever used with her. At this point, I was finished with playing anyone’s games, including my parents.
She backed away, her face turning red. “I…I…”
“Talk. Now!”
Several emotions crossed her face, bearing down on her. “I can’t.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“You don’t understand. I’ve grown so fond of you. More than I thought.”
I laughed bitterly. “You’re exactly right. I don’t understand in the least why everyone needs to get in my business. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. Talk.”
“They swore me to secrecy.”
“Who? My parents?”
All Emerald could do was nod.
Fuck this. Now, I was angry. I took a deep breath, raking my hand through my hair. “Are they paying you to watch out for me?”
“Oh, honey. I love being with you.”
A headache formed behind my eyes. “Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You don’t mean that.”
No. Yes. Maybe. At this point, I wasn’t certain of anything. “Who else is on my parents’ payroll?”
“No one else that I know of. They’re protective of you. Nothing more.”
Protective wasn’t the word.
“Fine,” I hissed between clenched teeth. “Do you tell them all my dirty little secrets? Do you mention every date I’ve been on or how many times you suspect I’ve had sex?”
“No! Of course not. I never tell your father anything about your personal life. They just want to make certain you’re safe.”
Uh-huh. They knew I wouldn’t tolerate a permanent bodyguard. I shook my head. “Very clever. Leave me alone for a few days, Emerald. I need to figure out what I’m going to do.” And what terrible secret lingered in the shadows.
“I didn’t mean to deceive you, Maria. Please know that I’ve enjoyed these last few years getting to know you. You’re like the daughter I never had.”
There was nothing left to say at this point, or if I did, the words wouldn’t be considered very nice. “Just go. Now.”
Emerald had been the rock I’d been able to lean on, hearing me cry over issues, calming me down when I’d wanted to strangle one or all of the other band members. She’d helped me choose outfits and purchase sparkly dresses. She’d remembered my birthday every year.
An ache had already formed in my heart, and as I watched her walk out the door, I was determined to get to the bottom of the great mystery. Tonight.
I turned to face the mirror, the lights surrounding the mirror suddenly seeming garish. I leaned in, studying my face. “Who are you?”
Another knock meant it was just about time for me to get on stage. Tonight, singing felt like a chore, the noose hanging around my neck.
When the door opened, the person walking inside wasn’t who I’d expected.
“Hello, beautiful.”
My Weston. Mine. I almost laughed at the thought. “Hi ya, hunky man.” I pushed away from the table as he approached. When he wrapped his arms around me, I took a deep inhale of his aftershave. All three men had an entirely different scent. Weston’s was woodsy with fresh rain in the spring, a testament to his name.
“How is my beautiful little lamb tonight?”
Lamb.
Little lamb. Little lamb.
I repeated the words several times in my mind, and a strange series of sensations tickled their way through my system. It wasn’t unlike the cute phrases they used for me, but it struck me differently tonight.
“I’m good.”