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If she was involved with Harding, the Prom Queen aura had to be an act. She hadn’t just perfected the ability to look naïve and innocent. This one looked almost virginal. He could see why Harding would be interested in her, but what the hell did she see in Frank Harding? Probably his money and his power. That’s what they all seemed to see. For some reason, Donovan’s annoyance grew. She tried to look and feel confident as she walked towards the desk, her hand extended. ‘Good evening, Mr. Corbett. I’m Laci Grace. Thank you for agreeing to see me.’ Laci Grace. Even her name annoyed him. Of course her name would be Laci Grace. Anyone who looked as sugar and spice as she looked would have to have a name like Laci Grace. He wondered if it was her real name, or an identity she assumed to play her part. Donovan neither stood up nor reached for her extended hand. He sat silently in his chair, his dark eyes glittering cold and hard in the dimly lighted room. He had mastered the art of. Just as he glanced at the clock the door opened and Freda strode through. She was wearing thigh high leather boots with six inch heels sharp enough to stab through wood. Her hands and forearms were covered by leather gloves that reached almost to her elbows. She wore a leather g-string and a tight leather corset that pushed her breasts up and out, displaying them to their best advantage. Their nipples stood out stiffly, like little erasers.She stopped next to the bed, looking down at the exhausted girl. She held a riding crop in her hands, slapping it against her gloved palm."Untie her." she directed. Franz freed the girl's ankles, then her wrists. She didn't move much though."Devon. Come here." she said. Her voice was low, but stern. Devon's eyes blinked wearily. "Devon. Come here."Devon shifted slightly, drawing her arms down from above her and pushing half heartedly on the mattress. She rose a foot, then fell back. Freda tossed the crop to Franz, who stood by the bed. Freda.
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