Sapphire Scars (The Jewelry Box #3) Read Online Pepper Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Jewelry Box Series by Pepper Winters
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Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
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I recognised a few of them from being in the kitchens so much. One of the men had smiled at me last week as he dashed out with a trolley full of food.

Silence fell over our group as the staff unloaded the trays and lifted off the silver lids. The glass coffee table went from empty to groaning beneath delicious-looking morsels. Steam curled from platters of vegetable kebabs, saffron rice, perfectly filleted steak, pan-seared fish, chunky homemade fries, and so much more.

Once napkins, plates, and cutlery had been positioned, the staff swept out, and a butler stepped forward. He poured more liquor into Victor’s and Henri’s glasses. The huge crystal decanter trapped rainbows thanks to the chandelier dripping above.

Only once we were alone again and Victor had piled his plate with something from every dish did he sit back, cross his legs, and grin. “They upload clothing.”

“Clothing?” Henri’s forehead furrowed as he gathered some food and reclined. He didn’t take much, and I had a feeling what he did take he wouldn’t eat, and even if he did, it wouldn’t stay down.

My stomach rumbled a little, and I caught Rachel gazing at the food wistfully, but no one offered us the opportunity to join the feast.

Sighing heavily, I placed my untouched glass on the table and balled my hands on my lap.

This will be a long night.

“Yes.” Victor nodded, his words garbled with food. “I saw it with my own eyes. They list a pretty dress and use a header like ‘Stunning Gracie Birthday Dress,’ then in the drop-down box, they have ages instead of sizes. Age six, age eight.” He waved his fork. “Etcetera.”

“And your friend thinks those are links to purchase children?”

“Oh, he doesn’t think, he knows. He’s the one who uploads them. Or at least, one of them. That particular link was for a blonde, slim girl. He said the word Gracie depicts slim and small, whereas other names are different nationalities and shapes. Like I said…it’s all in code.”

Swallowing hard, Henri asked, “But how is a simple girl’s dress suddenly code to buying the actual girl who would wear it?”

“Simple.” Victor passed a chunky fry to Rachel.

She took it and ate it, her appetite not diminished by the abhorrent dinner conversation.

Henri copied Victor but went one step further. Gifting me his entire plate, he muttered, “Eat what you want. I’m not hungry.”

Victor sniffed. “Food not to your liking, Mercer?”

Henri rubbed his palms on his knees. “Had a late lunch. You feed us too well in here. I have to be careful not to indulge.” He chuckled and patted his flat, carved belly. “If I keep eating the way I have, I’ll end up as round as Roland.”

Victor kept staring for a moment, but Henri didn’t flinch.

If Victor looked at the camera footage, he’d see Henri eating a club sandwich in our chambers this afternoon while I’d enjoyed a sweet potato and mushroom wrap. What he wouldn’t see was Henri vomiting it all back up again, thanks to Victor admitting the only place he didn’t put cameras was on the toilet.

For Henri’s sake, I hoped Victor had no idea how often his stomach punished him because even I knew the more his system broke, the more his thoughts unravelled.

Stabbing a piece of succulent fish, Victor accepted Henri’s answer. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you what I mean. These sites are riddled with sales like this. The only difference that makes them stand out is the price.”

“The price?” Henri asked coldly.

“Well, you can’t very well sell a blonde eight-year-old girl for the same price as an ugly dress, now can you? The auction usually starts around thirty thousand, but one of my friend’s listings ended the night I was there, and the final price was fifty-four thousand.”

“Fifty-four thousand?” Henri shook his head, his energy once again coiling and clotting. “Surely these sites would flag those transactions. No one in their right mind would spend that much on a dress.”

“I’m not sure how he gets away with it. But he does.” He winked. “Makes bank too. All he needs is a warehouse to keep merchandise and a way to ship them to their new homes.” He winked. “And here I was thinking I earned a good living mining my jewels once they’d passed their use-by date.”

Rachel stiffened.

My heart stopped.

What?

Henri leaned forward, repeating my horrified silent question. “What? You don’t mean…”

“Organ trade?” Victor stuffed another forkful into his mouth. “Of course! Lucrative. Very lucrative.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Henri sucked in a breath before dropping his hand and asking, “You’re saying you carve out the organs of your jewels and sell them?”

“Oops. Cover your ears, Rachel. Ily.” Snickering, Victor tore through a piece of steak with perfect white teeth. “Waste not, want not.” He chuckled at Henri’s slack face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were ready to hear all aspects of my operation, my friend. My overseer told me that you’ve been diligent in learning how my estate works while I’ve been away.”


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