Tonight, I offered Miss Whitehall a deal—stand and she could live in my house. Instead, she lay on the floor sobbing for home. I wanted to scoop her up and carry her to the east wing anyway.

“You gonna eat or what?” Doc asks.

I ignore him. He and Adriano are vacuuming up Japanese takeout, but I have no appetite. I can think about January Whitehall. Her round ass, her flat stomach, her gorgeous little face. If only she’d gotten up… but time in the basement will do her good. If she was to be mine, she’ll have to learn to behave properly. No tears. No tantrums.

Doc gestures at my Karaage chicken with his chopsticks. “Can I have that?”

I scowl, pulling the plastic container closer to myself. I can’t believe he gave the girl her first kiss. He must have forced her into it. Domenico wouldn’t know subtlety if he woke up to it sucking his cock. January Whitehall will kiss me of her own accord. I’ll coax her into the palm of my hand before I take her innocence.

It was not our original plan to kidnap her. We were going to plant a bullet in her head and try to get as much of her brains on Parker as possible. But after years of surveillance, killing her began to seem wasteful. Like smashing a glass case to seize a five-star dessert. You might prevent the true owner from enjoying it, but you ruin it all the same. We wanted the dessert—if only to taste it before tossing it on the ground.

It was a risk, of course, the Whitehalls are a powerful New York family. But January is a relatively insignificant member. The youngest daughter of a third son. Her unimportance is the only reason Parker was able to buy her hand in the first place. It was worth the risk to abduct her. There would be bad blood, but the Whitehalls wouldn’t go to war for one teenage girl. While no single act could ever erase what Parker has done, I thought watching his fiancée get tag-teamed by the men coming to kill him was a promising start.

Tonight I walked into my entrance hall, and I was ready to give her to Doc and Basher to play with, then Adriano to kill. Until I saw her.

For centuries, my mother’s family has dealt in precious stones. January Whitehall is una perla rara. A once in a lifetime gem. Identifying her potential is the only intelligent thing Parker has ever done.

When I rubbed my wingtip between her legs, I expected to see fear, but when my shoe brushed her panties, Miss Whitehall’s eyes went wide and her nipples turned to stone under that ridiculous gown. Her shame was as delicious as her arousal.

I’m going to humiliate her with her own desires. Watch her grind herself on my cock, crying while she comes all over me.

“You sure you’re going to eat the chicken?”