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Wickedly Twisted 17
Allison"I don't know," Papa murmurs at last, shaking his head. "It's a good offer. I just don't know.""Paul's going to kill you. I have no real reason to. That should be all the logic you need to make the right choice.""It isn't that simple." Papa sounds miserable. "I'm already entangled with Paul.""Then detangle yourself. I won't make this offer again."Papa nods, looking miserable. "I understand." Then he glances at me. "Allison, darling, you can see how dangerous things are for me right now, but if you were to go back to Paul and apologize—"Gregory cuts him off. "If you speak to my wife like that one more time, I will kill you." He makes his threat as if he's ordering steak at a restaurant. There's only hard truth in his voice. "She is not going anywhere.""Yes, very well." He takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out. "I'll have to think.""In the meantime, send Paul a message for me. I'm open to working out a negotiated settlement to our current predicament, assuming he's
Wickedly Twisted 18
AllisonGregory disappears after dropping me back at the house with only a cryptic I have more work as an explanation before driving off. I mutter to myself as I head back into the beautiful but empty house, and I'm about to give myself another tour when I find a young man standing in the kitchen, idly humming to himself and wiping down the refrigerator.I let out a little surprised yelp. He grimaces and looks over, holding up the sponge like a shield."Sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you. I wasn't aware you'd be back so soon. Gregory told me—""Wait, hold on. Who are you?" I put a hand on my rapidly beating hard. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here."The young man straightens. He's got dirty-blond hair, tan skin, surprisingly white teeth, and a slender frame, and he's wearing a business-casual outfit of a button-down tucked into slim khaki pants. He reminds me of a fashionable tech-bro. "My name's Orin and I'm Gregory's assistant."It takes a second to process
Wickedly Twisted 19
AllisonI screech, laughing, as I careen into our bedroom. He stops at the doorway, breathing hard, and stares around him.I gesture, catching my breath. "Well?"He groans, closing his eyes. "You've got to be fucking be kidding me.""You don't like it?"The place is draped in purple.Absolutely drenched in a dozen shades of purple like a Teletubby got murdered.Rugs, paintings, even the lampshade, all purple. Purple star-covered tulle hangs around the four-poster bed, which is done up in purple silk."You're worse than I am. You're deranged.""It's royal," I say defensively. "Purple's a great color.""Come here." He chases after me. I'm laughing hard, too hard to put up much of a fight, and he catches me by the ankle as I try to get away over the bed."You can't really spank me!" I protest as he drags me over. I squirm, trying to get away, but his grip's like iron and his face is twisted into a mask of determination."Damn right I can.""Gregory!" He unbuttons my pants and starts to p
Wickedly Twisted 20
AllisonAfter the bath, I crawl into my purple bed and fall asleep. If he gets in with me, I don't notice, and in the morning his side is already cold and empty, though his pillow's been used.I pull on some new sweats and head downstairs."Good morning." I jump, yelping again. Orin's standing in the kitchen at the island cutting fruit. "I wasn't sure what you like for breakfast so I went all out." He gestures at some eggs, a little yogurt, the fruit, a bagel, and toast."You have to stop doing that." I clutch my chest. "Your boss is going to be pissed if you give me a heart attack.""Doing what?" He looks genuinely confused. "Gregory told me to get you something to eat. He said you'd be hungry."If there's an implication in that statement, it doesn't reach his tone. I refuse to let myself blush. "I'm fine with coffee and fruit, thanks."Orin nods and brings me over something to eat as I sit at the table. He lingers for a moment but says nothing. I sip my coffee, trying to act like he
Wickedly Twisted 21
AllisonI take a deep breath through my nose and slowly let it out. "When did he tell you that?""This morning before he left.""And did he say why?""Gregory's not really big on explaining himself.""Big shock." I step forward. "Look. Orin. I like you. We had fun yesterday.""We did," he agrees."There's no way in hell I'm going to stay locked up in this house without an explanation. Did Gregory say you need to physically restrain me?"He looks uncomfortable. "Well, no.""Then let's just say I kneed you in the balls and sprinted out the door.""Please, Ms. Allison—""Just Allison.""Okay. Allison." He glances to the side, looking worried. His voice falls to an urgent whisper. "Gregory wouldn't give me an order like this unless it was important. I understand you have a certain image of him—""My image of him isn't the problem.""Right. Understood. I'm just saying that he doesn't give orders like this for nothing. Maybe wait until he's home and ask him for an explanation yourself?"I f
Wickedly Twisted 22
GregoryRiker Corgan is sweating as he shakes my hand. "I'd say you overpaid, but, uh—" He clears his throat. Corgan's a heavyset man, bald, middle-aged, wearing a polo shirt and khaki pants. "I suspect you already know.""Consider the excess a friendly gesture. I'm aware of the risk you're taking by selling to me." I walk with him toward the conference room door. We're in a nondescript office I rented right in downtown. Bottles of water gleam in the middle of the table. I have the entire twenty-first floor, although only two rooms are furnished. "Do you need anything else?""A drink," he says, not smiling. "Something strong. And a plane ticket to Mexico.""I could help with both, but I suspect you have them well in hand."Corgan chuckles as I escort him to the elevators. We pass empty space for cubicles, empty offices, empty halls. "Can I offer some advice?" he asks, and he doesn't look like he cares whether I agree or not. I definitely don't give a damn what he has to say. He goes o
Wickedly Twisted 23
Allison"When I picture a nice walk in the park with my husband, this isn't really how I thought it'd go down." I lean up against Gregory, grinning up at him and batting my eyes. He gives me a hard look, not in the mood to play around. The Waterfront Park presses up against the river, and while the cherry blossoms aren't in bloom, it's still a beautiful stretch of grass and concrete. Groups of people jog, ride bikes, roller skate, and stroll in the sunshine.Nearby, about two dozen heavily armed men lurk around the trees and bushes looking absurdly out of place."Did you want to have that sort of relationship with me?" he asks, putting an arm across my shoulders. "I assumed you were more into the fighting and spanking.""It's nice to be treated like a regular girl once in a while, you know.""Should we plan a honeymoon then?""I won't complain. I could use a vacation for once.""Where would you want to go?""Paris," I answer immediately.His eyebrows raise. "Really?""I've never been
Wickedly Twisted 24
AllisonI stare at the ceiling and try to remember the last time I spoke with Riker Corgan.It was probably at some industry thing, a party or a charity auction or something like that. But I can't seem to recall exactly when.Which is terrible. The man's dead—at least partially because of me—and I can't even recall what we last spoke about.Probably some inconsequential nothing.He was a business rival, but he was still a man. Now he's gone, murdered horrifically for selling to my husband.Sleep won't come. It's the middle of the night, a little past ten. My purple bed doesn't seem funny anymore now that the reality of my situation's become clear. Dead bodies, headless corpses, murdered businessmen. Corgan wasn't exactly a saint, but he also didn't deserve to get mutilated."You can't sleep." Gregory's voice drifts in from his side of the bed.I try not to look at him. I swear, he must hear my heart racing. "It was a stressful day.""You're not used to this. I understand.""You do? Do
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