“That definitely makes it complicated.” I sighed, trying to come up with some sort of solution, but I really couldn’t think of one.
“What I really need is someone who isn’t connected to me in any way—someone that would handle the problem and keep quiet about it.” He lifted the glass of whiskey and took a sip. “I’ve just spent so much time forging alliances with the same people John has—even the people that work for me—some of them have worked for him too. I need someone outside of my circle…”
“What do you want them to do about it—this person outside of your circle? Would they have to—kill him?” I swallowed hard.
“Kill him?” My father recoiled like I had just slapped him across the face. “What kind of man do you think I am, Anabelle? No. I don’t want John dead. He’s got two small children. I wouldn’t take their father away from them. I just need someone to send a message—after that, I’ll make sure he knows that it’ll happen again if he doesn’t return the money he stole and leave Chicago.”
That doesn’t sound very bad. I mean, if he stole money from my father, then he probably deserves it…
“What if I knew someone?” My lip twisted, and I swallowed hard. “Someone that could do that—someone that isn’t connected to your circle at all.”
“That’s sweet of you to offer.” He smiled and shook his head. “But this isn’t a job for one of your friends. I need someone who isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty.”
“But I’m saying that I know someone like that.” I felt my lip quiver, afraid to say what I wanted to say, but a sense of duty compelled me to try and help. “Daddy, I have a boyfriend.”
“Excuse me.” His eyes opened wide and he slammed his glass down. “Who?”
Yeah, that’s the reaction I expected—I’m glad I didn’t mention that I have two—two that share me.
“I know you’re going to be angry—but like you said, you were in love with someone before you married my mother. His name is Rourke.” I swallowed a lump that was trying to form in my throat.
Rourke is the one who said he loves me—probably better that I talk about him than Brody.
“Rourke?” His head tilted to the side. “I don’t know—anyone by that name.”
“He’s definitely not associated with anyone you know. He’s from the South Side.” I exhaled sharply, waiting for the glass to go across the room—but it didn’t.
“The South Side.” He nodded as he if he was pondering something. “I definitely don’t do business with anyone down there.”
He’s responding a little better than I expected. Maybe he really does realize that I’m a woman now and not just some little girl—a princess in his castle.
“Rourke is a good guy. He’s—rough around the edges, and I know he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.” I winced as I tried to choose my words carefully. “Perhaps if you would give us your blessing—and not force me to marry someone else…”
“It’s serious enough for you to be thinking about marriage?” My father narrowed his eyes.
“No, we’re definitely not talking about getting married or anything.” I shook my head back and forth quickly. “But we might—one day.”
Or I might just keep calling him Master and never wear anything other than a collar, but that’s better than marrying someone I don’t even know.
“You know I love you, right Anabelle?” My father’s face shifted to a slight smile.
“Yes, I know.” I nodded.
“I’ve often wondered if I made the right decision when I was sitting in that chair and my father told me that he had decided that I was going to marry your mother. I didn’t stand up to him—you’ve got more courage than I had at your age.” He nodded aimlessly and lifted his drink. “Maybe this could work. If this Rourke guy is someone you care about, then he’ll have to be involved in the family business—just like you will.”
“I mean, I’d have to talk to him.” I swallowed hard. “I’m sure he would be interested.”
He’s definitely talked about wanting to leave the South Side and try to make something of himself—this might be the opportunity he needs.
“I’m going to call John. You call Rourke. I’ll have John stop by and we’ll handle this business tonight. You might want to ask Rourke to bring a friend—just in case things get out of hand.” My father reached for his phone.
“Wait—now? Like, right now?” I blinked in surprise.
“Yes, this can’t wait.” He nodded quickly.
I felt a bit panicked. I didn’t expect my father to be so understanding and I certainly didn’t expect him to tell me to immediately call Rourke. He was already on the phone with John before I had time to process it. I left my father’s office and grabbed my phone. I really didn’t have time to explain everything to Rourke—I just told him to come to my father’s house and bring Brody. There was hesitation, but I told him that things were going to be okay—and my father was fine with our relationship. He sounded surprised, but he finally said that he was on his way—that was all I needed to hear.
I won’t have to sneak around anymore after tonight. I can finally have a real relationship with Rourke and Brody. I’ll have to keep some of it a secret—especially Brody’s involvement—but this may end up being the best night of my life.
I met Rourke and Brody at the side entrance. John was already in my father’s office, undoubtedly enjoying a glass of whiskey and an imported cigar. That was how they spent most evenings when they talked business late into the night.
“I’m sorry—what?” Rourke looked at me with a stunned expression on his face after I told him about my discussion with my father.
“I know it sounds crazy, but—this could be our chance—this could be your chance.” I grabbed his hand. “He’s fine with our relationship. He doesn’t care that I’m involved with you.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s true.” Rourke shook his head back and forth.
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell him about me?” Brody chuckled.
“No, but—that can be our secret.” I looked over at Brody. “Seriously, this is a good thing. All you have to do is mess John up a little bit—a few punches.”
“Anabelle, I need to tell you something.” Rourke pulled away.
Rourke never got a chance to say what he wanted to say—because a gunshot rang out through my house. I immediately ran towards my father’s study—terrified that I would see him on the floor. Rourke and Brody were right behind me. We made it to the study before any of the workers and when I pushed the door open, I saw John lying on the floor. I was pretty sure he was dead. My father was holding the gun and he turned to me with an expression on his face that reflected terror. I heard sirens in the distance. Brody grabbed my arm before I could rush to my father’s side.
“It was them!” My father tossed the gun on the floor as some of the workers made their way upstairs. “These two—they broke into my house—killed my best friend.”
“Daddy—what are you saying?” I felt my heart drop straight into my stomach.
“You saw it Anabelle—you saw everything.” My father nodded quickly.
“We need to get the fuck out of here.” Rourke took a step back.
“Yeah—we do.” Brody let go of my arm and I turned to see him running towards the stairs.
“Anabelle…” My father ran over and pulled me into his study—away from the workers so that they couldn’t hear what he was saying. “The cops will be here any minute. Those two—men—they broke into the house. They shot John.”
“Daddy, no.” I shook my head back and forth. “That’s not what happened.”
“Yes it is.” He took my hand and squeezed it. “Family comes first—remember the Prescott motto. I didn’t mean to kill John. He pulled the gun on me—I had to fight him for it.”
“Then tell the police that—they’ll believe you.” I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
“No. They won’t. It’ll be my word against a dead man—and I’m the one
who pulled the trigger, so my word isn’t going to mean much. It has to be this way. I know you care about Rourke, but—family—family comes first.”
I felt numb all over. I didn’t know what was happening or how to process what was going on. I didn’t get a chance to try and reason with my father. The police came through the front door with weapons drawn and chaos erupted in Prescott Manor. The police took my father’s statement. He told them that I walked in in time to see him wrestle the gun from Rourke’s hand after John was shot. He said Rourke and Brody were home invaders—scum from the South Side that were after money—or something.
When the police finally came into the living room to take my statement, I looked up at the Prescott family motto hanging on the wall. I stared it as I recited what my father told me to say, each word making my heart break—until my heart felt like it was black in my chest. After the police were gone, my father wrapped his arms around me and I broke down in tears.
I told Rourke I loved him.
I called him Master.
I promised that I would always be his loyal submissive.
But then I did what all Prescott’s were supposed to do.
I put my family first.
Rourke
Present day
I managed to get some sleep, but it didn’t come easy. I was still used to keeping one eye open, afraid that someone was going to make a move on me when I was in jail. I had a lingering fear that Adrian Prescott wasn’t going to let his baby girl testify—because he was afraid she wouldn’t go through with it once she was on the stand. I was concerned he would just have one of us killed off in jail—little did I know that when a contract came through for a life to be claimed, it would be us that was asked to snap a neck.
The ease of Brody’s actions didn’t sit well with me. If he was able to kill some random stranger, even if that stranger deserved to die, it meant that he was also capable of sliding the blade across Anabelle’s throat. That was probably what truly made it difficult to sleep. Even after she betrayed me, I didn’t want Anabelle dead. I wanted to do what I failed to do when she was with us before—I wanted to break her. If I could show her that she belonged to us—that we would punish her when necessary, but protect her from anything, then I would have a loyalty that was stronger than blood—stronger than that fucking Prescott family motto.
I gave up on sleep after a few hours and sat up in bed. I grabbed a cigarette, lit it, and walked over to the room where Anabelle was sleeping. She still looked like a fucking angel, even if her halo was shattered. I hated to see her like that—tied up and tossing with her sins weighing heavily on her mind. All I wanted to do was walk into the room, wrap my arms around her, and tell her it was going to be okay. But it wasn’t—it wasn’t okay at all. She betrayed me. She betrayed us both. She was never my submissive, never worthy of calling me Master—because I held back when I needed to be firm.
That’s what love will do to a dominant man. I fell hard, and fast—then she was saying the words I needed to hear before they were true.
I walked outside and looked up at the sky as smoked rolled off my lips. I never thought I would see it again with such peaceful serenity surrounding me. It was too bad the tranquility of nature didn’t resonate inside me—I was filled with too much turmoil to enjoy the sight. I grew up in chaos, lived it—breathed it—learned to shape it when I had to. But I was no match for a king in a castle on the North Side, nor was I match for his princess when lies spewed from her mouth and destroyed me.
“Can’t sleep?” Brody’s voice echoed behind me.
“No.” I looked over my shoulder at him as he stepped outside. “Too much on my mind.”
“Yeah, same here.” He nodded. “Want to wake the princess up and have another go at her—that might give us a distraction for a little while.”
“No.” I shook my head back and forth. “It’s not the same. It’s just hollow—busting a nut to do it. I might as well be jacking off.”
“Not for me.” He chuckled. “That little slut is much better than my hand.”
“She’s not a slut…” I exhaled sharply.
“Isn’t that how you break them? You call them every degrading name you can come up with and make them believe it?” He tapped a cigarette out of his pack and lit it.
“No, that’s not it at all.” I took a drag and flicked my cigarette butt into the dirt. “There’s supposed to be a connection. It’s supposed to be fiercer than anything else on earth—trust, loyalty—submission.”
“Maybe she needs a daddy instead of a dom.” He shrugged. “She seems to do anything he says…”
“Yeah, but she didn’t know about the meeting—the one I had with her father before everything went to shit.” I exhaled sharply. “I saw that in her eyes—I don’t think she even knows what kind of man her father really is.”
“She has to know.” Brody scoffed. “She grew up in his world—in his fucking castle. There’s no way she doesn’t know he’s the King of Chicago.”
“I hope he feels like a pauper right now—wondering where his princess is.” I turned towards the door. “She won’t be the same girl she was when she walks back into his castle.”
“I still think it would be easier to just kill her.” Brody took a drag off of his cigarette. “If she can’t testify, it’ll be a lot easier to create reasonable doubt. Our fingerprints weren’t even on the fucking gun.”
“I know, but I’d rather see Adrian Prescott behind bars than take my chance with a jury.” I walked inside.
I’m going to turn his princess against him and when she finally does take the stand, she’s going, to tell the truth—then I’m going to decide if I can forgive her or not—if she deserves to call me Master.
One year ago
“Ah, Mr. Connors. Welcome to Prescott Manor. Can I interest you in a drink?” Adrian Prescott greeted me with a warm smile as I sat down across from him.
“Sure.” I nodded.
Who can resist a drink from the King of Chicago when the bottle on his desk costs more than I’ve made all year?
“I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.” He poured a drink and slid it across his desk. “How about a cigar? They’re imported.”
“Sure.” I nodded again and took one from him as I sipped my drink. “Do you want to cut through the bullshit and talk about why I’m here, or do you have something else to offer me?”
“I’ve got a lot to offer you, Mr. Connors.” Adrian Prescott clipped the end of his cigar and lit it. “But yes, we can cut through the bullshit. I know you’re—involved my daughter.”
Yeah, but how much do you know? I was intrigued by the invitation—especially since it didn’t come at gunpoint.
“Then I won’t deny it. I love her.” I nodded and started lighting my cigar.
Fuck, that’s good.
“Love is a funny thing, isn’t it? It makes people do interesting things.” He nodded. “But I’m sure you realize that my daughter will never be able to stay with a man like you. Her future is—predetermined.”
“Yeah, I know your game.” I puffed the cigar and pulled it out of my lips to take another drink. “You rich fucks marry your kids off to other rich fucks.”
“It makes things less complicated that way.” He nodded and exhaled a stream of smoke. “I’ll give you one million dollars to end things with Anabelle. The money will be in your hand—cash—before you leave my office.”
Holy shit. He’s trying to bribe me. One million dollars? Fuck!
“Mr. Prescott…” I blinked a couple of times, mostly because I was stunned into silence and my thoughts were in disarray.
“Think about what you’re about to say. I know you’re in love—I respect that—but this is just a temporary affair. She’s still a child. She’ll probably go through a dozen guys like you, but she’ll never marry one of them.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’ll find her a husband that—looks the other way. Maybe one that likes to watch. Who knows, maybe you’l
l still get to fuck her from time-to-time once she’s been properly married.”
I need to decline his offer, but I need to do it delicately. This is still the most powerful man in Chicago, even if he’s being civil right now.
“Look, I know you’re used to making problems go away with money, but I don’t want to be a problem for you.” I stared at the burning end of the cigar. “I really do care about your daughter. Why isn’t that enough?”
“But you are a problem, Mr. Connors.” He sipped his drink. “I’m working to make the right deal to make sure she marries someone who can strengthen our family. I’ve only got one daughter. I have to do what’s right for the family. Family comes first, you know?”
“Yeah, I think I saw that on your wall.” I stifled a chuckle.
“One million dollars is a lot of money for someone from the South Side. Think about your mother—that little shack she’s lived in her whole life. You could buy her a nice house—she wouldn’t have to wait tables anymore.” He nodded and puffed his cigar.
This fucker is bringing my mom into this? Now I’m about to lose my temper.
“It’s a lot of money, Mr. Prescott.” I sighed and sipped my drink. “But I’m not the kind of man that can be bought. I hope you respect that—maybe you won’t, but that’s just who I am.”
“Then I guess we’re finished here.” His eyebrows came together, and I heard a light growl in his throat. “You can see yourself out.”
“Yeah…” I stood and finished my drink before putting the glass down on his desk.
I have a feeling this is far from over.
Anabelle
Present day
Ravaged by Them Page 6