Hyland's Property

by Felicity Brandon

  Hilary would be quite the picture on her special day.

  I couldn’t fucking wait.

  “This is how it will be every night,” I explained, smiling at the mental image of my bride crawling down the aisle to my side. “Perhaps I will have you kiss my feet first, or maybe that comes afterward, but once we’re home, you will serve me a meal, then busy yourself with your other roles, furniture being one.”

  She pulled air through her nose, and I noticed how her muscles tensed, but any attempt at resistance for Hilary was over. I was in charge of her destiny now. Reaching for my phone, I switched on the camera and took a number of new shots of her below my feet for my collection. One day, Saul would receive a barrage of photos of his ex-girlfriend. I’d resisted the urge to send any yet, preferring to marry her first, so for now, they remained for my private consumption only.

  Just like Hilary.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Saul Morrison

  FIVE DAYS. IT HAD BEEN five fucking days since I’d seen her. Five days. Five long days of angst and concern. The kind of anxiety that physically hurt, that left me unable to eat, sleep, or function. That had been my life, my everything since Hilary vanished. I’d never realized what she meant, never taken the time to breathe in the scent of her honeyed tresses or gaze into her eyes and tell her how much I needed her. The sex had started casually, though I’d desired her for years, and within a day or two, it became consuming. She took over my body and mind, my only waking thought and every carnal need. In the short time we spent together, I had fallen head over heels. For the first time in so many years, Saul Morrison was in love.

  Then she was gone, disappearing completely as if she’d been wiped off the face of the planet, but I knew she hadn’t. People didn’t just vanish, even in our world—something had happened to her. Someone happened, and my churning trepidation had an idea it was linked to Zander Hyland. That man had been the bane of my existence when he was alive, and even taking the motherfucker out wasn’t enough to save me from his poison. I couldn’t prove it yet, but somehow, I knew. This had Hyland’s grubby fingerprints all over it, and as soon as I could connect the dots, I would wipe out whoever was left in the nest he’d created.

  That didn’t help me, though, and it sure as hell didn’t help Hilary. I knew the type of cretins who worked for Hyland. They were the worst kind of men, the sort who’d do anything. Furious fear knotted in my stomach at the thought of what might be happening to her. That was why I couldn’t rest until she was safe. Whether she reciprocated my feelings or not, I owed Hilary that much.

  The buzz of my phone derailed my spiraling thoughts, and glancing down at the screen, I saw the name I’d been waiting for flashing in front of me.

  “Craig?” I answered eagerly, wanting desperately for the man I’d planted inside Hyland’s organization to have some good news, but sensing that was a vain hope. “Do you have an update?”

  “Yes.” He sounded tired, but weren’t we all? “It’s taken a couple of days to find someone I can trust. Most of my contacts were taken out in the stand-off between you and Zander, and I—”

  “Okay, Craig, cut to the chase.” My jaw clenched at the way I berated him, a twinge of guilt twisting in my chest. I liked Lauper, and he’d been loyal to me, providing a wealth of useful information on my rivals over the years, but I couldn’t help it. My affection for Hilary was too great. Whatever he knew, I coveted that power.

  I wanted her back.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap, but please... tell me what you know.” The tension was rising in my chest, threatening to compress my heart and cut off my oxygen supply altogether.

  “It’s okay.” I could hear the compassion in his voice. “I know you care about Hilary, and she’s okay.”

  “Really? Where is she? Is she safe?” The questions rolled off my tongue faster than my brain could rationalize them, but they were the relevant ones, the ones that haunted me, keeping me awake night after night.

  “She’s alive, yes,” Lauper answered. “Hyland has her.”

  “Hyland?” The anxiety knotting inside me ratcheted up another notch. “B-But, he’s dead. I shot him. I...”

  “Not that, Hyland, Saul.” Lauper’s words stopped me in my tracks. “This is his nephew, Sean.”

  Fuck. For a second, my heart stopped altogether. Sean fucking Hyland, seriously? That little shit had left the country years ago. The last I’d heard, he’d been living it up in France.

  “Sean Hyland’s back?” Though, even as I asked, it all made sense. Of course, he was back. Sean was back to reclaim the so-called Hyland empire, and somehow, he got to Hilary. “He has her?”

  “Yes.” Lauper’s tone was emphatic. “I still have a couple of guys I trust, and they’ve told me where he’s hiding her.”

  “Fuck.” That time the word escaped my lips. “If he’s hurt one fucking hair on her head, I swear, I’m going to rip that little shit into pieces.”

  “I know.”

  “How is she?” I gritted my teeth, but the goading thought remained. How was Hilary? Was she safe? What had that little bastard done to her? Men like him—like me—didn’t take people for fun. He’d snatched her for a reason, and I shuddered at the thought of what that reason might be.

  “She’s alive, that’s all I know. Except...”

  My body tensed. “Except what?” I barked. “What, Craig? Tell me what you fucking know.”

  “There’s word he’s planning to marry her.”

  “What?” I panted as the explanation tried to register in my brain.

  “He’s going to wed her next week, I hear.”

  “Marry her?” My fingers of my free hand balled into a fist. “What the hell?”

  “I know.” His tone was resigned. “It’s fucked up.”

  “I have to stop this, have to get to her.” The thoughts were coming at me fast, but my brain couldn’t rationalize them. Why on earth would Sean Hyland want to marry Hilary? Of course, she was beautiful, smart, and sexy. She was kind, too. She cared about people in a way that was rare in this business. I knew he’d want to fuck her, and that concept made me want to spit blood. I swore to all that was holy, I would make him pay for any harm he’d caused her, but more than that, the idea of marriage was an insult, to Hilary, to the institution, to me...

  It hit me then.

  That was what this was about.

  It was about me, about insulting me.

  I’d killed his uncle, and in spite, he took my woman, but it wasn’t enough to hold her, to have her...

  My head fell, my knees buckling as recognition permeated my senses. Hyland wanted to do more than just take what was mine. He wanted to own it, and in his twisted mind, marrying Hilary was how he’d achieve it.

  “He’s doing it to get back at me. It’s about insulting me.”

  “You’re right.” There was silence for a moment. “I’m sure you’re right. What do you want to do?”

  I inhaled, trying to get enough oxygen to my brain, but my every judgment was clouded. I could scarcely think.

  “I don’t know.” It pained me to admit it. “I don’t know, but something... I’ll think of something. I have to get her back. She shouldn’t suffer because of me.”

  “Okay. Think about it. Call me when you know. I’ll keep my ear to the ground at this end.”

  “Thanks, Craig.” I needed men like Lauper more than ever. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Ending the call, I slumped back into my chair and threw the device onto my desk, spinning in my chair to take in the London skyline. My office boasted an impressive panorama of the cityscape, and at this time of day, when the sun set, there were few more inspiring views, but the scene held little motivation for me now.

  Without Hilary, I was bereft. I could round up my troops, get Dalton, Connor, and Manuel to help get her back, but I couldn’t deny what was flagrantly clear. Sean Hyland was back in the country for one purpose only. He wanted another war, a war I thought I’d just put to bed wi
th a bullet to Zander’s brain. A war I’d hoped was over forever.

  “Hilary,” I whispered her name into my chest. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t give up. I’m coming for you. I’m coming.”

  The End.

  Devour Hyland’s Consort for the next sizzling installment of Hilary and Sean’s

  twisted love affair!

  Read the introduction to the book now...

  Hyland’s Consort

  (A Rage and Revenge Novel):

  A Dark Mafia Dark Necessities Romance.

  Book Two

  By

  Felicity Brandon

  Copyright © 2021 by Felicity Brandon

  Prologue

  Sean Hyland

  “YOU’RE SURE THIS IS what you want?” His expression serious, Crane’s fingers paused over the keyboard as he glanced up.

  “Are you asking if I’m mentally competent?” I sniggered, amused the man I paid such a huge sum was questioning me.

  “I’m asking if you’re sure.” His fingers went to work again, tap, tap, tapping on the plastic keys as he completed the paperwork. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t, sir. It’s all so...” He paused, apparently trying to think of the right word.

  “Sudden?” My brow arched. He was right. The decision to take a wife was abrupt, to say the least, and contrary to the self-serving man I’d become, but Hilary had turned everything upside down. Since I got my hands on her, all I could think about was leading her down the aisle and finally claiming what was mine.

  “Precisely.” Crane leaned forward, staring at me over his spectacles. “I’ve known you a long time, Mr. Hyland.” His tone was ominous, reminding me of one of my uncle Zander’s droning speeches... until Saul Morrison had put a bullet through Zander’s brain. “And I knew your uncle even longer. I just want to ensure your interests are protected.”

  “That’s exactly what you’re going to do,” I assured him, offering the older man a smile. “You’ll ensure all Zander’s properties and assets are safeguarded in the event of divorce or my death.”

  “They’re your assets now, sir.”

  “That’s right.” I sighed, leaning back in the huge black leather seat. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around Zander’s death, let alone avenged the bastard who’d brought him down, but I would. I was working on both, and my new bride was the pièce de résistance. “Sometimes, it’s difficult to think about it that way.”

  Crane considered me from behind the vast screen. “That’s understandable.” His tone was sympathetic. “The loss of Mr. Hyland was tragic. None of us want to believe he’s gone.”

  Yet he was gone—murdered in the same grotty London office I was redecorating, brought to heel by the rival gang who’d been the thorn in his side his whole life.

  “Still, you’re here now.” Crane’s lips twitched. “The next generation of Hyland, and I feel sure there’re brighter days to come.”

  “Indeed, there are.” I pressed my fingertips together, contemplating the day in question. The wedding was set in only three days, and the documents Crane was putting together were the final loose end to be tied up. “A great many. I thank you for your concern, Mr. Crane, as well as your long service, but my mind is made up. I’m marrying Miss Mantle.”

  His brow rose at my emphatic tone, but a professional like Crane knew when to argue and when to get the job done. “Very good, sir.” He pressed his lips together, attention flitting back to the screen. “Then we’re nearly done here. I’ll just need a signature from Miss Mantle.”

  “An electronic one won’t suffice?” I already knew the answer, but I asked anyway. Getting Hilary to Crane’s office was going to be an interesting challenge. I’d been keeping her in sensory deprivation, edging her closer and closer to ecstasy each time we played but never permitting her to reach the stars. After so long without the light, without hope and longing for my touch, Hilary had become quite the well-trained, eager pup. I could certainly get her to sign the paperwork, but taking her from the place I held her wasn’t my preferred option.

  “I’m afraid not,” he replied. “I could bring the papers to your address if you desire?”

  “No, I’ll bring her here.” I sighed, but even as the air was expelled, my lips curled, imagining my gorgeous blonde scampering around on all fours in Crane’s wood-paneled office. “She could use a trip out.”

  Crane laughed. “Well, I’ve never heard my offices referred to that way, sir.”

  My grin widened at his amusement. “These are strange times, Mr. Crane. I’m certain Hilary will appreciate the chance to meet you.”

  “Very good,” he replied, his focus flitting between the screen and my face. “Does tomorrow suit you both? Better we get this finalized in advance of the wedding, I think.”

  “Tomorrow is grand.”

  I envisioned Hilary’s slender limbs moving across Crane’s old-fashioned carpet and her utter embarrassment at the public humiliation, but she may as well get used to it. Come the big day, she’d be bared and subjugated as much as I desired, and based on the way I was constantly aroused, that could be most of the day.

  “What time, Mr. Crane?”

  “I have an early slot.” He peered around the screen as if checking I was still there. Poor Derek Crane. I’d be willing to wager his office had never seen anything like my bride-to-be. “Nine in the morning?”

  I inhaled at the thought of having to drag Hilary here so early. “I can make that work,” I agreed, trying to ignore the swell of passion that surged at the thought of Hilary and focusing on the dry, monotonous, but nonetheless significant reasons that brought me to Crane’s office. “It will give you the chance to meet my intended and see what all the fuss is about.”

  “Yes, sir, though I’m sure she’s quite the catch. Why else would you want to get her down the aisle so quickly?” He grinned, revealing a line of crooked teeth, and I started to laugh.

  “Why else, indeed?”

  Chapter One

  Hilary Mantle

  THE SLITHER OF ILLUMINATION at the far end of the room edged across the wall. Cast from the tiny space behind the blackout blind, which leaked light, it was only a trickle, but it was all I had. In the days I’d been here, I noticed its pattern and envied it. I resented its routine, begrudged the fact it could move so freely when I could not, but over time, it had come to represent something greater than just the contrast between our fortunes—it began to indicate time. Based on its position, I could work out what time of day it was beyond the endless gloom of the place where he kept me, its presence a fleeting semblance of normality in this new depravity.

  Sighing, I watched its slow path, tension knotting in my shoulders. I was naked and bound to the chair again. I was always bound and naked. Tethered and unable to flee, enveloped in sultry shadows and, as usual, right on the edge of reason before I’d been abandoned. Fleetingly, my mind flitted back to the first day Sean Hyland had captured me, to the onslaught I’d been made to endure at his hands, the rounds and rounds of pleasure he’d ripped from my reluctant body in that dank little basement cell. That might as well have been a thousand years ago for all I could recall of the thunderous orgasms. Now, those climaxes were as out of reach as freedom itself. It was the game Sean loved to play—one that enthralled him while leaving me perpetually on the brink of breakdown. Each time he returned, I’d be permitted to move, but liberty came at a price. I’d have to cede to his demented will and allow him access to my body, permit him to torment me. There was no denying Sean could play the game. He was a champion competitor. We’d only just met, yet he was capable of stimulating me in ways most men could hardly conceive, and while he’d refrained from actually taking what he so clearly believed belonged to him, the threat was always there. I was his. His to tease, his to harass, his to garner thrills from, and one day, he would expect much more.

  My insides tightened at the thought of that day. Sean had made no bones about it. It would be our wedding day, and apparently, it was looming faster than I imagined
, though in the confines of this place, even the slither of light couldn’t illuminate how soon for me.

  “Soon,” I whispered into the darkness, pleased for once, he’d permitted me the possibility.

  Sean had a penchant for gags and enjoyed seeing me struggle in one. It was all shades of wrong, watching him harden at my dismay at not being able to communicate, but even worse was the pulverizing reality I enjoyed it, too. What could be worse than finding yourself in such a hopeless situation—hostage to the deranged rival of your boss—than discovering you actually relished his insidious attention? But it was true. I’d been wetter and needier than ever fettered in his bondage. Hornier than I’d been with any boyfriend and even needier than I’d been with Saul. My face screwed up at the unpleasant reality. Saul Morrison, the man who’d signed my paychecks for the last three years, was also the same man I’d bedded by choice before this ordeal—the man I thought I’d been in love with.

  Where was Saul?

  Glancing up, my gaze fixed on the dribble of light visible across the room. Was he out there somewhere, looking for me? Granted, we never got to the stage of saying we loved each other, and I wasn’t sure either of us was ready to declare undying devotion, but we’d been pretty damn close. If I knew anything about my lover, he protected everyone in his organization. He’d come for me—I knew he would—he’d never leave me to rot in the darkness with a ruthless cretin like Sean Hyland. That wasn’t Saul’s style. However, he wouldn’t anticipate how deep the rabbit hole had gone, wouldn’t dare guess at the devious games Sean played. Never in Saul’s wildest dreams would he imagine the nephew of his old gang rival would not only capture me but plan to marry me.