by Lily White
Shoulders relaxing, Ellen ruffled my hair. I wasn’t a child anymore, but you couldn’t tell her that. In her eyes, I was still the small boy who would run in crying or bleeding, in need of a kind voice to listen.
“Ah, well, we shouldn’t talk about such horrible things while you’re eating. Just promise me you won’t let her hurt you again.”
“You have nothing to worry about there.”
And she didn’t.
If anything, the only person in this house that needed to worry about being hurt was Lisbeth.
Lisbeth
Callan had declared war. That’s all there was to it. The son of a bitch was pushing every fucking button he could find, and doing so with a devil’s grin on his beautiful face.
Gretchen led me to the staff dining room with the usual click of her heels, her hand cemented on my arm as if I would cut and run. I probably would if there weren’t guards at every door leading outside, their eyes following me as we passed.
Once inside the dining room, Gretchen led me to the breakfast bar, watching with disapproval as I loaded my plate with every fattening food there was. I wasn’t worried about my weight. The fact was, I didn’t have a chance to eat dinner last night before running up to the family suites, and I was exhausted from the lack of calories. If I had any hope of keeping up with Callan’s games, I needed to have as much fuel as possible so I didn’t lose my damn mind.
I finished making my plate, and Gretchen led me to the center of the room, her stare meeting mine when I didn’t immediately sit on the floor to eat like a damn dog.
She stared. I stared. And eventually, her scowl fell apart as she opened her mouth to say, “Although I agree that Mr. Rose’s suggestion was unusual, I must insist you do as he said.”
The staff members seated at tables around us like the humans they were stared at where we stood, confusion clouding their expressions.
Poor Holly was at a table by herself, worry lining the tender youth of her face. I had no doubt she’d already learned I was Callan’s personal servant. And while she may have jumped at the chance due to her crush on him, she knew by the comments I’d made to her yesterday that Callan was only a monster when it came to me.
Unhappy that I’d hesitated to do as I was told, Gretchen leaned in, her voice a hiss against my ear.
“If you do not sit on the floor immediately, I’ll be forced to find someone who can put you there. And if your food spills in the process, you’ll have to eat it from the floor and not from the luxury of a plate.”
I turned my head, and our eyes met.
“It’s your decision, Lisbeth.”
Tears burned the rims of my eyes, but I refused to shed them. Callan wanted me on the floor? Fine. I’d sit on the floor, and I’d still hold my head up with the pride he was so desperate to strip from me.
It would only work to my benefit for him to believe he was winning. Eventually, he’d drop his guard. An exit door would be left unwatched. And I’d be gone before Callan knew what happened.
All I had to do was play along and wait.
Lowering myself to the ground, I ignored the murmurs whispering around us, the shocked expressions of the staff, the satisfaction that I’d obeyed obvious in Gretchen’s eyes.
My posture never crumpled, and I didn’t cry. I simply picked my fork up from the plate and began eating as if sitting on the floor like some common animal was normal.
I had to hand it to the staff: they didn’t laugh or make this any worse for me. They only stared with wide eyes and hid their mouths behind their hands as they whispered. I didn’t think they enjoyed my humiliation. It was more that they couldn’t understand what was being done to me.
Holly had explained how much Callan was loved by the house staff. Every person here looked up to him and appreciated his kindness. They must have been confused to see one their own treated so poorly, but then I wasn’t really one of them, was I?
Not many of them understood that.
I kept eating as the staff around me finished their meals and left their tables. Eventually, it was only me sitting in place, Gretchen perched at a table near me where she sipped coffee and continued babysitting the disobedient puppy Callan had made of me.
The second Gretchen stood from her seat with a straight spine and squared shoulders, I knew who’d walked in through the doors at my back, my skin erupting in goosebumps.
That wasn’t unusual when it came to Callan and me. Even when we were young, my body had somehow known every time he was around. Not that I would ever admit that to him.
“You can go now, Gretchen. I’ll handle Lisbeth.”
I glanced up as she nodded her head and turned to click away in her prim and sensible shoes. I didn’t bother to twist my body to look at him. He’d see the anger in my expression, and it would only amuse him more.
Silence fell over the large dining hall, the weight of it shattered when his footsteps approached me from behind, a soft thump against a table sounding to my right as Callan came into view. Unable to stop myself from glancing over, I saw that he’d dropped a large black bag on the table before continuing his path to me.
I thought he’d walk in front of me so he could tower over my body and stare down like the master of his obedient pet, but instead he stepped up behind me, hovering for several seconds before crouching down so closely that I could feel his body heat on my back, the whisper of his breath against my hair as he spoke.
“Did you enjoy your breakfast?”
Refusing to show him how much it bothered me, I set the fork on my plate with a quiet click.
“It was excellent, thank you. My compliments to the chef.”
He chuckled, the sound as dark as his voice.
“I’ll let Ellen know you said so.”
A pause, and then, “Are you finished? We have somewhere to go.”
A shiver coursed over my skin. The last time Callan had taken me anywhere, I’d ended up in a room with naked women strapped to torture devices.
Holly’s warnings from yesterday morning rolled through my head. She’d told me the lower levels were bad, but the pit was worse. I still had no idea what that was or what could be going on there that it was less desirable than the dungeon.
“Where are we going?”
Every muscle in my body grew tense waiting for his answer.
“The pit.”
Spinning to look at him, the air rushed from my lungs when our faces came so close our mouths almost touched. The spicy scent of him wrapped around me, my eyes dropping down to run across the broad strength of his shoulders before creeping up again.
There was no humor in his face, the sharp line of his jaw and gold-flecked whiskey color of his eyes drawing me in like a moth to a flame. This man would burn me alive if I let him, yet he tugged at me in ways I couldn’t quite understand.
“What have I done to deserve that?”
Hating the genuine fear I could hear in my voice, I refused to move away from him as his dangerous energy consumed the space around us.
Callan’s brows tugged together with confusion for only a second. Why, I didn’t know. But then his typical blank expression slammed back in place as he gained control of himself.
“You’ll go where I tell you. That’s what servants do. Now get the fuck up from the floor and follow me without question.”
He stood, turned to walk to the table and shouldered the strap of the bag. Meanwhile, I pushed up from the floor, set my plate on another table and did my best to follow behind.
It was next to impossible to keep up with his predatory stride, his legs much longer, so that for each step he took, I had to race to take five.
Recognizing that he was leading me to the entryway of the house, I was out of breath when we finally stepped into the foyer, the guard at the door nodding his head as we approached.
“Callan,” he said simply, his voice a deep rumble.
Opening the door, he kept his dark eyes on me as Callan passed him, and I took a second to note that
every guard in this place was almost the size of Callan, their shoulders fighting the seams of the jackets they wore, their expressions stern and bloodthirsty.
A shock to my system after the past three days spent inside, I appreciated the warmth of sunlight on my skin as I was led across the large porch and down the rounded stairs, a black SUV waiting at the base, which Callan rounded to climb in the driver’s seat.
For a moment, I considered making a run for it, but I knew I wouldn’t get far before he caught me.
Obediently, I climbed into the front passenger seat and pulled on my seatbelt, my nerves tingling with apprehension as to where I was being taken.
I knew better than to ask questions, so instead, I stared out the window to watch the lush rose gardens pass by as Callan drove us to the front gates.
Stopping long enough to allow the gates to silently slide open, he punched the gas again, the car lurching forward with such speed that my body was thrown back against my seat.
Everything he did was on the offense, his driving as well, apparently. Yet even with the crushing speed, he expertly navigated the SUV, eventually reaching a highway that led out into the desert.
“What do you know about the pit?”
I glanced at him after the unexpected question.
“That it’s even more disturbing than the dungeon.”
Silence for a beat, his thumb tapping once on the steering wheel as the city disappeared behind us and the world opened at our sides with sandy flatland speckled with patches of brown grass and scattered rocks.
“Who told you that?”
“Nobody,” I answered, not willing to admit Holly had risked her job to give me the warning.
Another tap, his eyes cutting to me for one second before returning to the road ahead of us.
My nerves were live wires, the frayed ends dancing and arcing on the ground, a constant snap of electric fear bolting through me the farther into the desert we drove.
I wasn’t sure why I’d expected an explanation from him regarding the mysterious pit, but when one didn’t come, when he continued driving in utter silence without bothering to glance my way again, disappointment flooded me. It only made the fear and apprehension worse, my stomach rolling in my gut while my heart beat a painful staccato.
Every so often, we’d pass a small patch of rural ranches and tiny strips of stores. I’d never felt more alone than in that moment, my future hidden behind opaque black curtains as dark as the ones found in Callan’s bedroom. He held all the power in his grip, and I could only go along with whatever he demanded.
So tense that any sudden movement might snap me in half, I flinched when his deep voice rolled through the quiet car, his question asked with only mild curiosity, but I knew it ran deeper than his tone.
“How much do you know of your family’s money? Where it came from? What your father did to give you such a pampered life?”
Fidgeting in my seat, I folded my hands in my lap, stared at them as if the answers might be written over my skin.
“He was an entrepreneur and owned several businesses. Ones I’m sure you took over when Franklin made you the figurehead of the Roses.”
Except where the Roses had once been a bouquet of blood red strength, the beauty of the blossoms disguising the danger of their thorns, another flower stood in the center now, the petals velvet black, a shade of death so deep that the eye would get lost in it without comprehending it was trapped.
Even in the shade that whispered of dangerous shadows and an endless abyss, Callan was as vain as the rest of us, although his reasons weren’t as easily understood.
You could see it in the knife blades of his cheekbones, in the strength of his square jaw and the curve of his full lips. The way he held his body and in those eyes - a color that appeared in both breathtaking fantasies and soul crushing nightmares - that were a window inside a tortured soul with hatred framing the glass.
From the corner of my eye, I watched his mouth curl at the corner.
“What kind of businesses?”
Unsure where he was going with these questions, I shrugged a shoulder.
“I never asked.”
To our left, a large building stood against the distant horizon, a warehouse of sorts, only the top floor and roof visible above the solid wall that surrounded it. Callan turned to follow the road that led to the building, his fingers tapping the steering wheel, a steady drumbeat that marched us toward the unknown.
“You never cared, you mean. Well, you’re about to learn.”
Willing my voice not to shake, I asked, “Learn what?”
He pulled up to a gate, seconds passing before it slid open to let us pass. A few cars speckled the parking area, and I glanced up at the sheer size of the warehouse, not understanding what it was or why I’d been brought here.
The car stopped, and Callan turned to me, an odd expression on his face.
“You’ll learn that every dollar bill spent to give you the life you had was stained with another person’s blood. The food you ate were their lives. The clothes you wore were their skin. And every time you laid your head on silk sheets and fluffy pillows, it was their bodies that supported your bed.”
The wires inside me jolted again in warning, the buzz of electricity rolling and snapping.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered, every bit of strength I’d managed to hold onto bleeding out of me.
He nodded his head once and grinned.
“Allow me to show you, Princess Rose. It’s about time the baby of the family learns where her good fortune came from.”
Callan
Pride.
I had tons of it. Too much, most likely. The strength of it warming my skin and hardening my bones.
It was a constant pulse inside me, the knowledge that I had survived a tortured childhood, had lived through a slaughter that killed a hundred powerful men, and I’d come out on top.
But more than where I sat within a family that had enough money to rule the world, my pride ran deeper, its meandering path leading me into a ring of death night after night where I could show the true power of my body, the speed of my fist, the lethal potential of a soul forged in flames and ashes until it had hardened into a warrior’s sword.
There was no question: I was a vain man. But even with what I felt as I wandered the halls of a stately mansion and snapped the necks of my opponents in the ring, it still couldn’t touch the pride held within the woman who stared at me now.
Because, in truth, there was an empty space inside me carved in this woman’s shape, a blank space left over from when we were kids, the pride she’d sliced away from me so that she could claim it as her own.
A juxtaposition existed inside me: the need to devour every ounce of the vanity inside her so that I could use it to fill in my empty spaces, while at the same time, I wanted to leave her just as she was, untouched, resplendent, a beautiful Rose unlike no other.
Or maybe that was just the ghost of heartstrings broken over and over again when I’d been a weak and love-struck boy.
Still, I couldn’t help tasting the air of fear and refusal around her, couldn’t resist enjoying the tremor in her shoulders and the subtle widening of her navy blue eyes. My gaze dipped to her mouth, following the curve of it, my thumb twitching to remember how soft her lip had been when I’d pulled it down.
How wet.
How warm.
Would it feel the same against my mouth...or my cock?
I reached out while Lisbeth remained distracted at what I’d said, my fingers entwining in her hair, clutching the strands without worry of snapping them while I pulled her face close to mine.
Her eyes rounded with trepidation, her lips parting just barely on an exhalation of breath. Trapping her gaze with mine, I held her prisoner.
My voice was a seductive whisper.
“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”
Shoulders rising and falling with the air she struggled to breathe, Lis
beth narrowed her eyes, blue flames burning behind them.
“I’d bite,” she warned, that pride of hers a weapon that didn’t yet know defeat.
I pulled her forward, so damn close that our mouths were separated by only a tempting inch.
“I don’t think you would.”
She gasped, and I grinned, my stare falling to her lips that parted more.
Staring at them, I said, “I think you would dance your mouth across mine, would slide your tongue out to taste the man you hate so much.”
My eyes lifted to hers. “But if you did bite, that would be fine as well. A little pain would only serve to excite me. And while your body burned to be touched, while you watched me as intently as I’ve always watched you, my veins would be doused with ice because I would remember just how much of a petulant bitch you’ve always been to me.”
I tugged her hair, and she moved forward on her own. There was no doubt she thought it was me that continued dragging her closer, but that move had been all her, whether she realized it or not.
My lips brushed her mouth and cheek as I dragged them to her ear, my skin rippling with pleasure to feel her breath wafting against my neck. I slid my hand down until my thumb ran the center line of her throat.
A subtle threat.
A whispered promise.
“What would you do if I tied you down and fucked you, Lisbeth? Would you scream with pleasure? Or would you cry because the man whose cock is driving your body only looks down on you with stone cold hatred behind his eyes?”
And then I released her, the surprise in her face as she fell back in her seat causing me to laugh. I slammed a hand on the handle of the door and twisted in my seat to grab my bag from the floor behind me.
“We should go. It’s time you’re introduced to the businesses that paid for your pampered childhood.”
I didn’t wait for a response before exiting the car, only pausing long enough near the hood for her to climb down from her seat, slam the door shut, and walk up to stand beside me.
Her heightened pulse beat against my bones with every step we took toward the warehouse, her fear chasing a path up my spine and across my shoulders. I could feel her heated gaze on my back, and I swam in the electric fury I’d aroused in her when I warned her what fucking me would be like.