by Lily White
I gave Franklin the benefit of the doubt. But it was the last time. “Who’s the woman in Moritze’s house?”
“A friend of Gretchen’s,” he spat as he turned to pour another drink at the bar, the soles of his shoes grinding the glass of his first against the marble floor.
“She works for Moritze as a maid and has been trying to find where he keeps the information he has on us.”
Ice clinked in his glass as he slammed his drink before quickly pouring another.
“As soon as she has it, I’ll let you know so you can kill that son of a bitch. Patiently,” he mocked. “Snapping every bone in his body.”
My mouth twitched at the tone in which he’d repeated my threat.
He turned back to me.
“So, there you have it.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I searched his face for any sign of deception. He was more annoyed than anything, angry. But nothing else.
“Will you tell Lisbeth the truth now that you know it? Would you do that to her?”
It was a good question, one I didn’t know the answer to just yet.
“I’ll let you know when I decide what to do with it.”
Franklin stared at me for several seconds before saying, “It would only frustrate her to find out. Her mother had no interest in knowing her. She was happy to give Lisbeth up so that she could live a better life than that of a whore’s daughter. Think about that before storming out of here half-cocked.”
I nodded, a heavy breath pouring out of me. “Like I said, I’ll let you know.”
Franklin took a sip of his drink and left my statement to hang between us.
Regardless of what I would do, I decided to let it go for tonight. Although Jacob promised to keep an eye on Lisbeth, I didn’t trust him not to let things go too far just for the entertainment. He was as wild as Haley.
“I should go.”
I moved to leave the room, but stopped before fully exiting the door. Glancing back, I caught Franklin’s stare.
“I meant it about one more lie, Franklin. If there is anything else, you should let me know now. And as for your spy, I want to know everything she tells you immediately. Do you understand?”
He nodded, his throat moving to swallow. “Fine, but do me a favor next time you get the idea I’m the bad guy again.”
My head tilted, voice quiet.
“Just punch me and get it over with. It’s a hell of a lot less disturbing than having your dick pressing to my ass.”
A bark of laughter shook my shoulders. “You’re not pretty enough to get me hard, Franklin. You have nothing to worry about there.”
“Prick.”
Smiling at the word, I left the room, my steps heavy down the hall now that I was carrying the weight of a secret I wasn’t sure Lisbeth should ever find out.
Lisbeth
Sneaking away from the party, I walked into the back courtyard, surprised to find the door unlocked and unguarded, happy to fee the cool night air brush against the sticky sweat on my skin.
It wasn’t the celebration that was bothering me tonight. I’d enjoyed everybody’s happiness, had laughed and felt content to relax in the company of women who were quickly becoming friends.
While standing there, I’d realized my world had changed so drastically, so fast. I felt dizzy from it.
I was no longer the spoiled child given everything except for company. No longer the brat that lashed out with hatred because inside I was dying what felt like a slow, agonizing death.
It was a good feeling to find that, despite everything that happened in my life, an equilibrium had been achieved. Wrongs had been righted and debts repaid.
But still, there was something bothering me, my thoughts constantly drifting back to the fight I witnessed, to the prize that comes at the end.
It sickened me. The shouting. The bloodthirsty expressions of an audience that cared nothing for the destruction of lives, but who happily paid thousands to see those lives brought to an end.
I walked while thinking about it, wrapping my arms around my abdomen and eventually finding myself hidden within the shadows of the central maze.
My mind raced through the events of my present life, but also danced among memories of the past.
Of Callan.
Of my parents.
Of a life lived in a gilded cage.
Unsure if there was anything that could be done about it, I wandered the narrow paths, breathed in the sweet scent of roses, tipped my face to a night full of stars scattered haphazardly across a sky far too large for me to comprehend.
I needed this silence, this solace, this moment when I could take a breath and calm down. And I must have spent at least an hour on my own before the quiet shuffle of dry leaves sounded behind me, a pair of warm arms wrapping around my body before I had the chance to turn around.
“Are you thinking about running again?”
His deep voice was the most tempting of poisons, a sound that coursed through the veins threatening to destroy you while seducing you all the same.
“Only if you promise to chase me.”
Callan smiled against my cheek, his body leaning over mine.
“To the end of the Earth. Just like I always have.”
Entangling my fingers with his, I tilted my neck, shivering against his mouth running along my skin, the feeling exquisitely male, hotly sensual, a whisper of sin that told me he had only one thing on his mind.
Barely able to talk with the promise of sex charging the air, I asked, “And you’ll continue torturing me, won’t you?”
“Every day, each punishment more agonizing than the last.”
My thighs squeezed tight, heat blooming inside me as his hand ran up to take possessive hold of my breast.
I could feel his erection pressing against my back, the threat of his seductive violence, the strength of a body that bore my scars.
Teeth grazing the lobe of my ear, Callan’s fingers pinched the tip of my breast, a shock of pleasure running through me at the taunt.
“What’s on your mind? I know you’re upset.”
He brushed my hair aside, the tip of his nose running up the back of my neck. Breath shuddered out of me, my arms reaching so I could bury my fingers into the midnight silk of his hair.
Callan took full advantage, one hand kneading my breast while the other explored down, a feather touch between my thighs. A tease that made it practically impossible to think, much less talk.
The intimacy of his touch was devastating, the masculine claim, the fierce possession. Fingertips dragged up my thighs to pull my skirt with them, his thumb brushing between my legs with the intent of driving me crazy.
I swallowed the soul-crushing need he always drove through me.
“The fights,” I managed to confess.
A graze of teeth on my shoulder followed by a kiss. “Would you prefer I give them up, become an accountant instead?”
Laughter bubbled up my throat. “Somehow, I think it would kill you to be stuck behind a desk with pencils and a calculator.”
I melted into him when his fingers traced the outline of my panties, surrendering more when a sound of male satisfaction growled in his chest, his voice a whisper, “Yes, it would.”
His fingers dipped down, slid against the wet heat of my arousal. I groaned, needing more, hating the slow torture of his patience.
Steeling my spine against the sensual assault, I said, “It’s not the fights as much as it is what happens after. Hearing people cheer for what is essentially rape.”
“The slaves agreed-“
“I know that,” I whispered, my voice shaky as his finger traced a circle over my clit.
The heat of his tongue trapping the lobe of my ear, his teeth closing down to nip. “Then change it. The family is yours.”
“It’s yours,” I corrected him, a moan slipping from my throat as his thick finger pushed inside me.
Callan was driving me mad with a painfully precise rhythm, enough to stoke
the flames inside me, but too little to shove me over the edge.
“It’s yours,” he said, his lips against my skin. “All of it. You’re Marcus’s daughter, and that makes your claim on everything more valid than mine. You can make any changes you want.”
I wanted to argue, but he slipped a second finger inside, pushing them apart, stretching me in ways that forced a full body shiver through me.
My legs threatened to give out, my hands locking over his shoulders as he continued toying with my body, trapping my thoughts, stealing my ability to think clearly without guilt for doing it.
“Yes,” he whispered when I gave in, his voice pure approval for my obedience.
With nothing but his fingers, he drove me to my first orgasm, my legs buckling as his arm wrapped around me to hold me in place against him, his breath too hot, his mouth tasting and teasing me as his name fell over my lips.
Eyes fluttering open, I stared out at the dark expanse of forest in front of us. “You’re going to kill me one of these days doing that.”
A grin against my cheek. “Sounds like a good way to die.”
“The best.”
He laughed, the sound dark and so hauntingly soft. “I think I’ll keep you alive for a few more years. Death is no fun without torture.”
A thought came to mind, my voice breaking the silence of the night.
“Will you help me change things? Will you agree with my decisions?”
His lips pressed a gentle kiss to the side of my head, his hand pulling away to let my dress fall back into place.
Callan spun me to face him, and my breath caught on the dark shadow of him against the backdrop of roses.
Fingers trapped my chin, tilting it up as our eyes met.
“Once Moritze is dealt with, you can make whatever changes you want. And if I have to snap every neck of those who don’t like it, I will.”
“But the family-“
“Is yours to do with what you will.”
The sincerity in his words was staggering. “Ours,” I said.
He grinned. “If that’s what you want.”
It was relief to hear those words, the sickening feeling I’d carried all night dissipating with the knowledge that I had a quiet strength backing me who would destroy whatever challenges I faced.
Callan’s power wasn’t simply the strength of his body, it was an unbending strength of his will when he fought for what he wanted.
Despite his assurance, though, there was something in his eyes that worried me. Before I could ask, he ran his gaze down my body, wicked thoughts flashing in his expression that primed my body all over again.
“But, for tonight, I plan to take you up to my room, strap you to my bed, and make all the decisions about what will be done with you myself.”
“The torture begins?” I asked softly.
His smirk was pure male arrogance.
“I’m not sure you’ll survive it.”
Leaning down, he closed his mouth over mine, our tongues dancing as if in battle, my body submitting without hesitation to his every devious whim.
Callan
The next week passed far too quickly, each day ticking past with no news from the spy Franklin had in Mortize’s house.
We were on to the third fight, the last of Mortize’s new men, and despite my argument, Jacob insisted he’d be the one going in the ring.
I didn’t fucking like it.
But the asshole assured me his ankle was healed, bounced around on it to prove it, and then met me punch for punch when we sparred. There was nothing I could do to keep him out of the pit unless I wanted to overstep our friendship and use my position in the family to demand he back down.
Unwilling to do that to him, not only for the knock it would be to our trust in each other, but also the blow to his ego that I didn’t have as much confidence in his ability as I did the other fighters, I relented and was now standing in the locker room of the arena, my arms crossed over my chest, my eyes assessing every square inch of his body as he prepared to fight a battle that would result in death.
Jacob sat on a bench, his shoulders hunched forward as his eyes crept up to me, the usual humor behind them gone.
He was focused, alert, in a place we all needed to be prior to walking through a set of gates from which there was no turning back.
“I’m ready, Callan. You can stop molesting me with that pissed off stare of yours. Seriously, I’ve felt it on my dick three times. If it happens again, squeeze harder so at least I get off.”
My lips twitched.
“You have Haley for that.”
He smirked.
“Do I?”
Pushing himself up to sit straight, he ground a fist into the palm of his other hand.
“How much of her do I have exactly? Give me a reason to walk out of there.”
My pulse was a steady beat drumming beneath every inch of my flesh. Gaze still assessing him, I met his eyes again and told him the only thing I knew would ensure he stayed alive.
“I released her from her contract. She’s yours. Only if you walk out of that ring. Otherwise, she goes to the man who kills you tonight. And the rules will stop me from being able to do a damn thing about it. Can you imagine what that would do to her? Having to fuck the man that killed her future husband.”
Unsure what stopped him from immediately reacting, and unable to read his thoughts from the blank expression on his face, I stood in place, refusing to so much as blink while Jacob absorbed the truth of what I’d told him.
It was a promise and a threat, what I said.
A reality that he had to carry with him into that pit to face the threat of a very public death.
Seconds ticked past, each one building a silent tension between us, the room too small suddenly, the air charged with a thousand different thoughts.
Pushing slowly to his feet, Jacob watched me with a feral intensity, his movements slow, his expression unmoving, but then his mouth stretched into a beaming smile, his large body lunging foreword to grab me by the shoulder and tug me into a strong hug.
“Thank you,” he said, the side of his head pressed against mine in a familiarity that I would never allow another man.
It was all that needed to be said before he broke his hold on me and stepped back.
I met his stare again, my tone more an order than a suggestion.
“Walk out of there tonight. I won’t accept anything else.”
Nodding his head, he bounced in place, stretched his neck from side to side and made a promise I wasn’t sure he could keep.
“You better fucking believe I’ll walk out. You’ve just given me the best reason not to die.”
Inclining my head, I clapped him on the shoulder and grabbed my suit jacket from the bench.
“Lisbeth’s in the viewing box. I need to get up there before Moritze arrives.”
“I thought she hated these fights. Why is she here?”
Frustration tore through me.
“Because there was no way of stopping her. Believe me, I fucking tried.”
For three days, we’d argued about it. But Lisbeth was as stubborn as me. She refused to let me come alone tonight, not when it was Jacob in the ring.
“A grown ass man getting his ass handed to him by the little woman.” Jacob laughed, his eyes flashing with anticipation for what the night could bring. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
I grinned, hoping this wasn’t the last time I spoke to the asshole. Never hearing him joke around with me again would leave an empty spot in my life that I wasn’t sure could ever be filled by another person.
“Walk out of there,” I said before turning to leave the locker room and make my way into the main part of the arena.
Guests were already arriving to fill the chairs, their conversations becoming a chorus of white noise as I strode past the leather seats while pulling on my jacket.
Hating the restriction of the suit Franklin insisted I wear, I nodded to a few faces I recognized an
d walked the upper perimeter of the ring. My eyes lifted to the viewing box where Lisbeth stood between Connor and Benny, Franklin a shadow at her back as her gaze tracked my path over the distance, her expression a wash of anxious concern.
I slipped past a few of the servers gathering drinks, my teeth grinding as I climbed a private set of stairs to make my way to the viewing box.
Lisbeth walked up to me immediately, her body pressing against mine as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“He’ll be fine,” she said against my chest. “He’s as mean as you.”
I laughed at the comment. I wasn’t mean. Stubborn as a fucking mule, yes. But mean? Not to her.
Not unless she deserved it.
“I just told him Haley is no longer under contract. If that doesn’t give him a reason to snap the other guy’s neck, I don’t know what will.”
Craning her neck to look up at me, Lisbeth smiled, but her eyes told a far different story.
There was genuine fear there. I wanted to wipe it away, but there were no guarantees in these fights, no promise that things would go our way.
It didn’t help that a voice behind me slithered across my senses, an oily presence that I would find a way to expel from the planet just as soon as I knew it wouldn’t bring Lisbeth and me down with him.
“Isn’t this sweet?”
Tucking Lisbeth next to me, I turned to lock eyes with a dead man walking, the announcer’s voice calling five minutes over the loudspeakers as my jaw ticked with the very real threat that I would kill Moritze right here and now.
The asshole straightened his spine, his lips pulling into a smirk that told me he was too stupid to realize when death itself stared him in the face.
His god-awful jewelry flashed beneath the light, his oily presence so slick I felt slime against my tongue.
“Were you going to let me in, or will we be standing here eye-fucking each other all night?”
I considered option three: breaking his neck and pretending like it was a nasty spill down the stairs that killed him.
A hand landed on my shoulder as if intuiting my thoughts, and I turned to see Franklin and Benny at my back, a look of warning in both of their expressions.