Sovereign (Acquisition #3)

by Celia Aaron

  He brought his tortured gaze back to mine.

  “I’ll be alive on the other side. I’ll be with you. Do it for Teddy.”

  He didn’t respond, only pulled me to him. We sat in silence for over an hour. I thought I heard footsteps and the doors close from the adjoining rooms, but I couldn’t be certain.

  Random bits of noise filtered down from the ballroom, but not enough for us to have an inkling of what was going on. After another two hours had passed, our door opened. Sin set me on my feet as the attendant motioned for us to follow him back to the ballroom.

  We entered, and the coppery scent of blood surrounded us.

  “Our final competitor at last. Come on up.”

  My feet didn’t want to move, but Sin pushed me forward roughly. He was back in character, which was a good sign, though I feared how he’d react when he had to hurt me.

  “Oh, Stella.” Cal pulled me into his side. “Have I mentioned that I have a thing for redheads?”

  The crowd laughed as I stared at the blood on the platform, red streaks on the chair, and what looked like a tooth on the smooth ballroom floor. My stomach heaved, and I vomited. Cal backed up as it splashed onto the floor, and the ladies in the front row all broke out their fans.

  “Clean this up.” Cal motioned over some attendants who used dirty, bloody towels to mop up my mess. He slapped my ass. “Feeling better? Where was I? Right. The final show. Bring the goodies over.”

  An attendant wheeled a small cart to the edge of the platform. It was littered with various tools—some bloody, some untouched, and none of them pleasant. Sin’s eyes were wide, terror written there like I’d never seen before.

  Cal continued talking, the speakers booming his voice across the crowd. “You can do this,” I whispered to Sin.

  He met my eyes and calmed as I held his gaze, his face returning to its cold mask. To show him I could take it, I stepped to the chair and sat down, resting my wrists in the shackles.

  Cal turned around. “Oh, no, no darling Stella. The chair is for Sin.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  STELLA

  I SHOOK MY HEAD, my ears ringing as if a bomb had gone off.

  “Look, she doesn’t believe me.” Cal laughed and took my hand, ripping me up from the chair. “See? Not you, gorgeous.” He turned to Sin. “You.”

  The room fell silent as Sin looked down his nose at Cal. Then he smirked and whipped off his jacket.

  The crowd cheered as Sin sat down with dramatic flair and placed his wrists and ankles in the restraints.

  “Could you at least tell her to go easy on my face? A, it’s a handsome face, and B, I want to look good enough to marry your daughter.”

  Cal roared with laughter as an attendant snapped Sin’s shackles closed. “You are one cheeky asshole, you know that?”

  I rested my hand on the back of his chair. Maybe it would stop the room from spinning. Sin tilted his head back and met my eyes. A quick nod, and then he was facing forward again, smiling.

  “You amaze me, Counsellor. You really do. Do you have any idea how Bob quaked and cried? How much Red begged Brianne to go easy on him? Did she go easy on him, y’all?”

  The crowd laughed, and several cries of “no” rang out.

  “Indeed, she did not. It seems Red underestimated her. But here’s the rules. Stella can visit any harm upon you she sees fit, with any of these tools I have at her disposal. Like I said, love and hate, same coin. You understand, right Sin?”

  “I understand that you better have lunch ready when I get out of these restraints. I’m going to work up a real appetite.” Sin’s voice, confidence dripping from the words, boomed over the crowd without the benefit of a microphone.

  “Damn. That’s my man. I’d like to shake your hand right now.” He glanced to the shackles at Sin’s wrists. “Too bad on that one, my friend.” Cal smiled. “Rules are simple, Stella. You can’t kill him. He can’t lose parts.”

  “The same rules.” I gripped the back of the chair harder.

  “Exactly, the same rules. It’s up to you. Have your revenge. All I ask is that you make it good enough for our entertainment. Brianne and Gavin sure did.” With that, he hopped off the platform and took a seat between two redheads, throwing an arm around each of them.

  The room quieted until I could hear my breath, the steady pump of blood in my ears. I walked around to Sin’s front.

  “Do your fucking worst, cunt.” He flashed his eyes at me. No fear. Instead, relief sat in the crease of his mouth, the turn of his chin.

  “Damn. I love this guy.” Cal stage-whispered.

  So do I. I stepped down to the cart of tools. I clasped my hands in front of me, my fingers shaking and frozen.

  “Pssst.”

  I turned toward the sound. Dylan sat two rows back, leering at me. I ignored him and went back to perusing the weapons. A scalpel was coated with blood, and a larger pocket knife was, too. The claw hammer had bloody fingerprints along the handle, and a vicious-looking set of needles sat neatly to the side.

  “Come on, Stella.” Cal’s tone lost some of its showman quality, impatience seeping through. “I’m beginning to feel a bit peckish. It’s after lunch. Get to work.”

  I glanced up to Sin. His face was calm, his body relaxed. This felt right to him. He was used to someone he loved bringing him pain. Not just the back of his hand, but the wounds that went so much deeper. He was calm in the face of what he knew, that love was pain. Would I be that to him? Someone he trusted who ultimately made him suffer because of the Acquisition?

  I backed away from the cart. “No. I won’t.”

  “Stella.” Sin leaned forward. “Do it.”

  “No.”

  Cal stood. “Why on earth not?”

  “I can’t.” I lowered my head.

  “Stella!” Sin barked. “Do it now!”

  I stared at the bloody floor.

  “Oh, dear me. This is a problem. Stella, doll, look at me.” Cal put his finger under my chin and brought my face up to his. “If you don’t do this, you’ll take his place. Is that what you want?”

  I shook, my teeth chattering as my body trembled.

  “Stella. Stop this prideful refusal or I swear that I will beat you again as soon as we leave here!”

  “Sin, she just doesn’t have the stomach for it. Totally understandable.” He turned back to me. “Now, it’s up to you. Either you take your revenge on Sin—the one who stole you, who whipped you, who let his brother rape you—or you let me take my aggressions out on you.”

  Sin growled and his shackles rattled. “Stella. Do as I say.” It was a harsh command, but I felt the fear in it.

  I wouldn’t hurt him. Showing him that love didn’t always end that way—with pain and torment—was more important to me than an hour of suffering. I took a deep breath, and exhaled only one word.

  “No.”

  “You heard the lady. Unlock Sin and put her in his place.” Cal began to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

  “Goddammit, Stella. Do it!”

  “Too late now. I appreciate your efforts to make a good showing, Sin. I sure do. But I suspect Stella and I will make the best showing of all.” He plucked at my jacket. “Go ahead and take your top off. I want more canvas to work with.”

  “No!” Sin pushed the attendant away and dropped down to the floor. “Stella, don’t.”

  “I have to.” I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “No, I can take it.”

  “I know you can.” I looked up at him, his brow furrowed. “But you shouldn’t have to,” I whispered.

  “Enough chit chat. Let’s get going.” Cal ripped me away and pushed me up onto the stand.

  Sin grabbed Cal’s arm and whipped him around. He pulled his fist back.

  “Sin!” I cried.

  He turned to me, his fist still cocked, and I shook my head. Teddy, I mouthed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Cal recovered from his defensive posture and shoved Sin away.


  “Sorry Sovereign. I guess I just hoped I’d get to do it myself is all.” Sin opened his fist and dropped his arms to his side.

  Cal considered him for a moment, the room tense. Then he rolled his shoulders and smiled. “All worked up, eh? Good man.” He motioned to the redheads on the couch. “Sit with the girls and enjoy yourself, but not too much. He’s taken, ladies. Stella, why’s your shirt still on?”

  He climbed to the platform and yanked my jacket off my shoulders. Gripping my tank top at my chest, he ripped it apart in one harsh movement and threw the tatters to the ground. I couldn’t stop the squeak of fear that caught in my throat. He didn’t stop, only slid my bra straps off my shoulders. “Unhook it.” His voice was thick with lust.

  I reached behind my back, but my fingers were too numb to do anything.

  “Allow me.” He hugged me to him and undid the clasp. My bra dropped to the floor and I crossed my arms over my breasts. “Have a seat.”

  I backed up and sank down into the chair, the sticky blood of its last occupant coating the bottom of my arms. Cal knelt down and locked me in. I trembled and closed my eyes.

  “Girls, I said go easy. He’s engaged.”

  “Sorry.” One of them giggled as a sharp sting erupted across my cheek.

  Cal’s hand turned into a blur as he slapped me again and again until I tried to loll my head forward to stop his attacks.

  “Hold her head.”

  An attendant climbed up behind me and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back so I had no choice but to see Cal.

  “That was just foreplay.” He balled his hand into a fist, his eyes sharp and focused. “Let’s go all the way.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  SINCLAIR

  THIRTY MINUTES IN, SHE’D stopped reacting. Each time Cal punched her, slapped her, or cut her, a piece of me died. Every wheeze of breath from her lungs stole a year from my life. I wanted to suffer at her hands. I wanted to be the one who was finally made to pay for my sins. But instead of retribution, she’d granted me love.

  And through that love, I was damned. To sit here and allow her to be put through hell again, I belonged in eternal torment, bathed in flames.

  Her strength failed, her will dissipated, and no more screams passed her lips. Even when Cal took a scalpel and sliced across her left breast, she remained silent, her eyes open, though no spark lit them.

  The whores on either side of me had finally given up trying to entertain me. All I could see was Stella, suffering in front of me while I sat in comfort. I only remained still because of her. She’d committed fully, sacrificing herself for Teddy. I had to see it through. For her.

  The devils surrounding me would pay, but I couldn’t take comfort in the promise of violence.

  I had never prayed in my life. Perhaps when I’d been younger, before Brazil. But at no time in recent memory. I prayed as Cal hit her, lashed her body with his belt, split her lip and broke her nose. I prayed he would stop. I prayed she would recover. And I prayed for their deaths. The litany was on a loop in my mind, and it was the only thing that kept me sane.

  Cal continued his expansive carving, ending the cut on her stomach at the edge of her jeans. He stood back and admired his handiwork as her blood oozed from the sweeping curved lines. Wiping the sweat from his brow with a bloodied sleeve, he stepped down from the platform. The attendant let Stella’s chin drop to her chest.

  “I think my masterpiece is done. What do you all say?” He scrubbed the blood from his hands with a towel as the crowd cheered, though their zest had died down over the hour of torture.

  “Thank you. I take pride in my work. We have a delightful lunch prepared downstairs. Please make your way down, and I’ll be there shortly after I get cleaned up. Don’t worry, I still have enough left in me to carve the roast.” He grinned and bowed as the applause swelled once again, and the guests began to leave.

  Stella didn’t move even as the attendant unbuckled her manacles. She sat as if she were still tied down.

  “Sin, let’s chat.”

  I finally stood, but forced my feet to take me to Cal instead of Stella. Everything inside me screamed and demanded vengeance.

  Instead of snapping Cal’s neck, I smiled. “Good work. You certainly have a knack.”

  “I knew you’d appreciate my art.” He finished wiping the blood from his mouth, the bite marks along Stella’s right breast and upper arms still red and angry.

  Once the final guest left, Cal clapped me on the back. “What’s it feel like to be the next Sovereign?”

  “So, you’ve chosen?” I scrubbed a hand down my face, my relief for Teddy doing nothing to ease the burden weighing down on my mind, my heart.

  “No, she chose.” He pointed at Stella who sat like a pool of water, flat and motionless.

  I peered into his taciturn eyes. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  He sank onto the nearest chair and let out an exhausted sigh. He stalled, wanting to provide more theatrics. I was desperate to grab Stella and run with her, get her help and save her. But, as she’d done from the moment I met her, she’d saved me, instead.

  “The theme of the final trial is love for a reason. Every trial has its purpose. As Sovereign, you will tell your competitors that the purpose in the end is to break their Acquisition, to be the worst son of a bitch south of the Mason-Dixon.”

  “Yes?” I wanted to know. I wanted Stella more. The quicker Cal explained, the quicker I could get her out of here.

  “That’s not the trick of it, in the end. Think about it. Your mother, for example. She had a special relationship with her Acquisition. Still does, am I correct?”

  “Yes.” My gaze flickered to Stella, who remained impassive.

  “You won’t remember my Acquisition. She certainly had a special place in her heart for me. Redhead. Anyway—”

  “Yes?” My impatience overflowed.

  “She chose you. You who whipped her, allowed her to be raped, made her fight to the death, forced her through so many horrors. But still, she chose you. She chose to take your beating. Usually, the winner of this trial is the one whose Acquisition does the least damage to the Acquirer. No one knows that except the Sovereign of course, and it’s a closely guarded secret.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying the fact that you were able to mistreat Stella beyond all bounds of cruel and unusual, but that she is still loyal and protective, makes you the winner. She went one step further and actually took your punishment.” He raised his eyebrows in chagrin. “That is unprecedented in trial history. You made her fall in love with you, even though you tortured her and even though she knew you could never love a peasant like her. You have twisted and broken not only her body, but her mind, her spirit. That’s the sort of strength we need as Sovereign. Congratulations.”

  No wonder Mother had won. Renee was devoted to her. How had I never seen it as the key?

  He rose and popped his neck. “The coronation will be in a month at my estate. I’ll take delivery of Stella then, as well.”

  “Delivery?”

  “Oh, yes, forgot to mention. I’m taking Stella for a week or two before giving her to Dylan. I enjoyed our time today, but I want more of a private session. You don’t mind, do you?”

  My hands demanded I choke the life out of him. “No, of course not. I will turn her over then.”

  “Good man. I’m very pleased about your elevation, and I’ll let Sophia know. Just keep it under wraps until coronation day. You know I love surprises.” He grinned and turned to leave. “You coming to lunch? We don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

  “I’ll be down in a moment. Just want to get here handled so she doesn’t bleed all over my suit.”

  “You are such a dandy.” Cal laughed and walked out. As soon as he was gone, I jumped up to Stella and wrapped her in my suit coat.

  When I picked her up, her head lolled back, her eyes still a glassy green. My
chest burned as if my heart was being dipped in a vat of acid.

  “Stella?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Stella, please.”

  Still no words as a tear rolled down her cheek. No, not hers. Another one landed at the corner of her lips, mixing with the blood there before moving down to her jaw. I blinked hard. My tears. The idea was so foreign to me. I hadn’t shed a tear since Brazil, and now the floodgates were opened. Tears flowed down my face as I clutched her to me, her bloodied and broken body drawing breath but otherwise devoid of life.

  I rushed through the ballroom and kicked the doors open, knocking an attendant on his ass as I rushed past. It seemed like days had passed since we’d been in the bedroom at the end of the hall, waiting to meet our fate. I pushed through the door and lay her on the bed.

  “Is she okay?” Gavin walked in behind me.

  “Get the fuck out.” I picked the bloody strands of hair away from her busted nose and tried to gauge what sort of medical attention she needed. Not that I could give her any. I had to show my face downstairs. Fuck!

  “There’s a medic next door, fixing Bob up. I can get her in here.”

  “Get her. Now. Bob can wait.” I turned back to her. “Stella, can you say something?”

  She hadn’t blinked. He’d hit her in the head so many times. I wanted to scream and rage and burn the entire fucking house to the ground. But I had no right. I’d just sat there, the whores pawing at my dick as Stella took hit after hit. For me. “Oh god, Stella, please.”

  “Move away from her.” A woman’s harsh voice cut through my misery. She wore bloody scrubs and had a flowery carrying case in one hand. “I said move.”

  “Can you help her?”

  “Up. Go.”

  I stood, but wouldn’t leave.

  She pushed past me and inspected Stella’s face, then opened my jacket and looked at the bloody wounds along her torso. “Jesus. At least she’s not the worst I’ve seen today.”

  She set her bag on the bed and dug out a syringe. “Night night.” She hit a vein, no problem, and let the meds fly.