Read Online CAPTOR (The Alpha Brotherhood) (Standalone Dark Billionaire New Adult Romance) by Ember Chase - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ember Chase
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edge of the balcony, I hear a metallic scraping and a frustrated grunt. Shane’s down there. I freeze at the sound of wheels rolling along the floor followed by footsteps, but curiosity gets the better of me and I can’t resist looking.
Damn. My eyes have a hard time focusing as they stare below. It’s not a two story window wall, it’s three full stories of open space. Has this guy ever heard of rooms? The stairs to my right lead to a massive platform with a glass floor that juts out into the center of nothingness. It’s obviously Shane’s workspace, there are a bunch of tables filled with computer screens, wires, tools, circuit boards, and other technical looking stuff.
There’s a white drop cloth in the center of the platform with a half assembled robotic arm that appears to be the focus of his attention. Shane’s kneeling next to it. He ditched the tux and now wears a plain white t-shirt that stretches tightly across his shoulder blades as he works.
“I know you’re there, Z,” Shane says without looking up. “This part of the house is off limits.”
“This part of the house doesn’t really look like a house.”
He chuckles, wiping his hair out of his face as he turns around. “Which is why it’s off limits.”
Off limits my ass. There’s an elevator at the back of that platform. Escape Option #3. “I’m bored,” I inform him casually. My heart races as I take a step down, testing his limits.
“I left you with adequate entertainment,” he replies, picking up a pair of pliers and returning to his work.
“Adequate for who, exactly?”
Shane’s hand stops right before making contact with his project and his head turns slightly over his shoulder. He starts to say something but his brow furrows instead as he watches me in silence while I descend this disorienting staircase. It’s made out of clear glass too and you can see all the way down to the floor, probably fifty feet below or more. I can’t stop my mind’s eye from seeing the glass crack and give way as I imagine the terrifying fall.
My captor rises, setting his pliers down and crossing his arms over his chest, but he seems more intrigued than annoyed. I don’t actually enter his forbidden domain, just take a seat on the bottom stair and watch the warmth of my feet create a fog of condensation on the glass around them.
“So, are there only two types of women in your view of the world?” I ask. He cocks his head to the side in confusion. “Desperate housewives or heroin addicts?”
His lips curl into a grin and he rubs the back of his neck, almost like he’s a little embarrassed. “Everyone can kill a few hours on the internet.”
“Yeah, people who want the well-connected man holding them hostage to have all their passwords.”
“I’m not holding you hostage, Zoey,” he laughs.
“Oh, really?”
Chapter 8
Zoey
“Hostages,” he begins, running his fingers along the robotic arm, “are being held for ransom. They’re released when the ransom is paid, ideally. I’m not cutting letters out of a magazine and gluing them to a piece of paper listing my demands, now am I?”
My stomach sinks as I scratch the hair at my temple nervously. There wouldn’t be anyone to send it to even if he was. I’m used to being on my own. It’s not like I ever had one so I don’t really think about it. A lonely Christmas or birthday is just depressing. Knowing there isn’t anyone out there to file a missing persons report is so much… emptier.
But there’s no reason Shane has to know that. I resolve to shake off the anxiety even though he’s already seen it and get up.
“Go back to your room,” he insists.
“That’s not my room.”
“It is for the foreseeable future.”
“I don’t want to stay here,” I tell him, taking a step toward one of his workbenches.
Shane lets out a frustrated breath as I pick up a bent piece of metal. “There are consequences in life, Z,” he says, striding over and taking the
Damn. My eyes have a hard time focusing as they stare below. It’s not a two story window wall, it’s three full stories of open space. Has this guy ever heard of rooms? The stairs to my right lead to a massive platform with a glass floor that juts out into the center of nothingness. It’s obviously Shane’s workspace, there are a bunch of tables filled with computer screens, wires, tools, circuit boards, and other technical looking stuff.
There’s a white drop cloth in the center of the platform with a half assembled robotic arm that appears to be the focus of his attention. Shane’s kneeling next to it. He ditched the tux and now wears a plain white t-shirt that stretches tightly across his shoulder blades as he works.
“I know you’re there, Z,” Shane says without looking up. “This part of the house is off limits.”
“This part of the house doesn’t really look like a house.”
He chuckles, wiping his hair out of his face as he turns around. “Which is why it’s off limits.”
Off limits my ass. There’s an elevator at the back of that platform. Escape Option #3. “I’m bored,” I inform him casually. My heart races as I take a step down, testing his limits.
“I left you with adequate entertainment,” he replies, picking up a pair of pliers and returning to his work.
“Adequate for who, exactly?”
Shane’s hand stops right before making contact with his project and his head turns slightly over his shoulder. He starts to say something but his brow furrows instead as he watches me in silence while I descend this disorienting staircase. It’s made out of clear glass too and you can see all the way down to the floor, probably fifty feet below or more. I can’t stop my mind’s eye from seeing the glass crack and give way as I imagine the terrifying fall.
My captor rises, setting his pliers down and crossing his arms over his chest, but he seems more intrigued than annoyed. I don’t actually enter his forbidden domain, just take a seat on the bottom stair and watch the warmth of my feet create a fog of condensation on the glass around them.
“So, are there only two types of women in your view of the world?” I ask. He cocks his head to the side in confusion. “Desperate housewives or heroin addicts?”
His lips curl into a grin and he rubs the back of his neck, almost like he’s a little embarrassed. “Everyone can kill a few hours on the internet.”
“Yeah, people who want the well-connected man holding them hostage to have all their passwords.”
“I’m not holding you hostage, Zoey,” he laughs.
“Oh, really?”
Chapter 8
Zoey
“Hostages,” he begins, running his fingers along the robotic arm, “are being held for ransom. They’re released when the ransom is paid, ideally. I’m not cutting letters out of a magazine and gluing them to a piece of paper listing my demands, now am I?”
My stomach sinks as I scratch the hair at my temple nervously. There wouldn’t be anyone to send it to even if he was. I’m used to being on my own. It’s not like I ever had one so I don’t really think about it. A lonely Christmas or birthday is just depressing. Knowing there isn’t anyone out there to file a missing persons report is so much… emptier.
But there’s no reason Shane has to know that. I resolve to shake off the anxiety even though he’s already seen it and get up.
“Go back to your room,” he insists.
“That’s not my room.”
“It is for the foreseeable future.”
“I don’t want to stay here,” I tell him, taking a step toward one of his workbenches.
Shane lets out a frustrated breath as I pick up a bent piece of metal. “There are consequences in life, Z,” he says, striding over and taking the
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