His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  Vomit surges up my throat suddenly. I clap my hands over my mouth and wretch. Viper jumps out of the way as acid burns its way to my mouth. It spills out of my fingers and drips onto the carpet. An ugly cry wrestles from my mouth as I swallow the bile back down.

  “Come on.”

  The elevator doors open and through my revulsion and horror I realize that he’s taking me to a room where women traditionally aren’t allowed. It’s the syndicate’s throne room, where all the business is discussed. It’s a giant space. The furniture is finished in oriental black lacquer, and faded gold trimmings trace every edge. A highly polished white marble floor expands across the room, the walls wine red. Sometimes the syndicate hosts parties here, and members will bring their wives, but it rarely happens. Dad never talked about what went on here. My eyes widen as I take in the room and the rows and rows of members lined up in front of a massive walnut table where there are five men seated. My throat tightens as my eyes pass over the sixth empty seat. Dad’s seat.

  “Fawn Haines.”

  My name echoes in the cavernous room and I turn my head as it bounces from a dozen different directions.

  A hand pushes at the small of my back and I walk forward on trembling legs until there’s about four feet of space between the table and me. Eric Blackthorn, a Council member with a thick, oiled beard, nods at me.

  “I know this is difficult and sudden, but we need to know if you saw anything last night.”

  “My dad’s dead.”

  I just saw his body.

  “Yes,” he says, not without sympathy. “He is.”

  “I—I don’t know what happened. How did this happen?”

  “Did you hear anything strange? Raised voices? Sounds of a struggle?”

  “No, I didn’t hear a thing!”

  Silas was with me last night, tangled in my arms. We were probably making too much noise to hear anything.

  Their faces fall as my voice fades away.

  “That is unfortunate.”

  “What happened? Where were his guards?”

  “Gone from their posts,” Viper replies smoothly.

  “Tipped off?” Blackthorn interjects. “Or bribed?”

  Another Council member leans in. “Bribed by who?”

  Viper lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. “The man made plenty of enemies.”

  Amos, the oldest member of the council, eyes Viper. “We all know that Haines had perhaps an unfavorable reputation, but the syndicate is a unit. We are not operatives. We fight as one, and we bleed as one.”

  “Haines outlived his usefulness.”

  “This was an act of treason,” Amos snaps. “Death before defiance.”

  My heart hammers against my chest as their words sink in my head. The members look divided, and deep down I feel a bit angry for Dad.

  “You’re going to find who did it, won’t you?”

  Their attention turns back to me, Amos looking faintly annoyed.

  “Your father’s murder was a serious crime. He will be found and dealt with.”

  “Take her back to her room. The Council needs to convene.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And get a list of every man granted access to Haines for the last few weeks.”

  Numb with shock, I don’t even hear his last few words. I just feel the biting pressure of Viper’s fingers, tugging me forward.

  My stomach curdles as I walk out to the hall, realizing that I’ll have to go back to the fifth floor where my father’s body was found. But Viper punches his thumb on the down button, to the lower levels.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To your new room.”

  “But—”

  “You’re not a member’s daughter anymore.”

  Which to the syndicate means that I’m nothing.

  He ushers me dispassionately in the elevator. Women have no place here except as family. The syndicate keeps a stock of whores in the lower levels. All the rest are daughters or wives. Everyone has a place, and I’ve lost mine.

  * * *

  My possessions drift out of my home in an assembly line. I feel like my heart is being ripped out as they pass all my favorite things around and take whatever the fuck they want. They keep reminding me that I don’t own any of these things—my father did. Now he’s dead, and I don’t belong to anyone.

  It wasn’t enough that they took all my things. They had to destroy my dignity, too.

  Bryce holds my shoulders back as I lunge toward a syndicate woman, who takes one of the few high-end pieces I have left, a beautiful lamp I picked up at a thrift store, and stuffs it under her arm like a Christmas ham.

  “That’s mine!”

  I lunge at her and stumble over Bryce’s foot. My face burns as the woman erupts into laughter and gathers her mink coat to her chest.

  “It’s not anymore.”

  Some of them sneer at her comments, looking at me under their noses as though I’m scum. It’s all because I remind them of him. I’m the daughter of the guy who spread misery like a poisonous fog.

  “You know the rules, Fawn. We only keep what we’ve earned.”

  I turn to him, my face a mask of tears. “And what about the countless hours I spent in the infirmary?”

  He rolls his eyes at me and pushes me forward so that I stumble into my suite. My eyes burn at the sight of it. It’s picked bare so that only the bones remain. My rugs are gone. The furniture from Crate and Barrel. All my lamps, vases, and purses. It’s cleaned out. Bryce hands me an empty cardboard box. I’m to fill it with whatever clothes I need. My Kindle is gone. Even the nursing textbooks I begged my dad to get me are gone. My chest heaves and I dig my fingers into the coarse cardboard as sobs erupt from my throat. I’m being banished to the bottom floor.

  It’s not right.

  “I need to bring you to Amos.”

  I wipe my hands across my eyes as Bryce’s deep voice cuts over my high-pitched gasps. “Why?”

  He turns toward the door, ignoring my question. I follow him with my box. There’s nothing left here anyway. All that’s left are memories of stifled emotions, pacing restlessly in my cage where I tried to find a scrap of comfort that my dad would never give me.

  I follow him to a higher level, where the guards yank my box out of my arms and comb through it roughly.

  “Do you mind?”

  I grab the edge of the box and yank it out of the guard’s hands, who scowls at me.

  “She’s clean. Amos just wants a quick word.”

  “Fine,” he says, suddenly giving me an ugly look. “Be respectful. You’re not his equal.”

  “Shut up and let me through.”

  I walk forward, but his hand shoots out and grabs my wrist.

  “You should be really careful how you talk to men,” he says, his mouth close to my face.

  I twist my nose at the foul smell. “And you should learn to brush your teeth.”

  Bryce laughs behind me, and the guard tightens his hand. “You’re not Daddy’s princess anymore.”

  Fucking creep.

  I yank my hand out of his grip and walk through the foyer, where a receptionist smiles at me from her desk.

  “Amos will see you right away, Ms. Haines.”

  She rises to her feet and knocks on the solid oak door.

  “Come in.”

  I follow the muffled voice as the receptionist opens the door and leads me into a circular room. The floor is covered with a faded red and gold rug and the walls are filled with books. Behind a tiny writer’s desk sits Amos, who stands up to greet me, a slight smile behind his wizened face.

  “Have a seat.”

  I sit down for what feels like the first time in days.

  “We need to discuss your future in the syndicate.”

  “What future?”

  Holy shit. Do not mouth off to this man.

  My hands tremble on his desk.

  “Fawn, you know the syndicate is no place for women.”

  I look at him. “Wh
at?”

  “You don’t have to stay here. You can leave the syndicate and go wherever you want.”

  “Go where? The syndicate is my home.”

  I can’t believe this. He would have me kicked out if he could. And then what? I have no money. Even if I could scrape together enough to afford the rent in this outrageous city, it wouldn’t last long. I don’t have any skills, aside from what I picked up in the infirmary. I wanted to go to nursing school, but Dad wanted me to stay close.

  “I understand that.”

  “No you don’t!”

  How would this old fool understand anything? He’s a man—he doesn’t have to worry about a damn thing.

  “Why did they have to take my things?” I ask, my voice breaking.

  “Because that’s our way,” he says in a gentle voice. “Every person has a role here. You can be a wife, a mother, or a woman for comfort.”

  “What about the nurses in the infirmary!” I explode. “What about the women you employ—”

  “You are not a nurse, and those women are contracted employees. They’re not part of the family. They don’t live here. If you want to continue to live here, you need to fulfill one of those roles.”

  And be thrown out into the streets to live among the homeless? I’ve been out there with my dad, on the rare occasions he’d take me out. Deranged men screaming at me across the sidewalks, huddled in masses against storefronts. No thank you.

  “I’ll work! I’ll be a syndicate slut—I don’t care!”

  “You might care if you knew what it meant. You’re a gentle girl, Fawn. And the men in this place will devour you.”

  “I’m not that gentle,” I say through my teeth, standing up as bitter tears roll down my face. “I’m staying.”

  My voice rings in the small room, and Amos gives me a sad smile and a nod.

  “You better get whoever did this to my father. I want him dead.”

  That piece of shit, whoever he is, resigned me to a fate of spending the rest of my days with my legs spread for men who want a whore for the evening.

  This is what I get for a lifetime of doing what I’m told and never once flouting the rules: a pat on the back and a ticket to the whorehouse.

  * * *

  “Fawn? That’s a pretty name.”

  I smile automatically as Miss Jeanine, as I’m instructed to call her, leads me through an underground maze. It’s like a giant dormitory for the comfort women—syndicate sluts, I remind myself. We pass by women in various states of undress, hanging out of their rooms, which look smaller than my walk-in closet.

  “You’ve had sex before, haven’t you?”

  “Twice.”

  She looks over her shoulder and winces at me. “Well, you’ll get used to it quickly. You’re a pretty girl. You’ll be very popular.”

  Oh my God.

  I don’t know if I can handle this.

  My box of possessions slips slightly, and I wrap my arms around it tightly. My chest rattles with my heart as I imagine a stream of men coming into my bedroom.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t have more than a couple clients a day. I’m not in the habit of using up my girls.”

  Just the way she talks about it makes me cringe, as though I’m a racehorse meant to be ridden until I’m injured, used up, or too old to continue.

  Jeanine stops, adjusting the shawl over her shoulders as she points toward the open door.

  “This is your new room.”

  It’s the size of a cupboard, and completely bare. A vanity, bed, and dresser. My whitened face stares back at me in the mirror.

  “Now I suggest you get changed. You’ve already been bought for the evening.” She smiles at me encouragingly. “Handsome man.”

  “What? Already?”

  I clutch my box to my chest.

  “Yes. I told you what would happen.” Her face drops suddenly. “Oh, and, I’m sorry for your loss, honey.”

  Sorry about your dead dad. Now you’re a whore. Deal with it. This whole place is fucking stupid.

  I am worth more than this.

  I rip off my clothes and change into the red dress they left me. It’s a low-cut, formfitting thing that wraps around my body like a bandage and pushes my tits out on display. I look ridiculous.

  My head pounds as I pace the small room, waiting for my john. She didn’t mention a name. I twist a strand of hair around my finger, chewing on my lip as I wait for him to arrive.

  Oh God, I don’t know if I can do this.

  “Fawn!” Jeanine’s voice calls through the door.

  I clench my hands to keep myself from bursting out loud that there was a mistake. I can’t do this. My dad just fucking died, and everything I knew was being ripped away from me.

  You’re doing what you have to do to survive.

  My hand grasps the door handle, my newly painted nails bright red, and I pull the door.

  The air freezes as Silas stands in the doorway, dressed in the same crimson shirt that all the syndicate members wear. I can’t believe it. He said that I would never see him again.

  My body floods with warmth as he gives me a nod. “Hey, there.”

  Jeanine smiles at me ear to ear before bowing away, and then Silas steps into my cramped room, shutting the door behind him.

  It’s suffocating to have him in the same room, and also embarrassing. The last time I saw him, I was the girl who was always slightly out of reach. Now I’m his whore.

  “You bought me?”

  He takes a giant step forward and wraps his arm around my waist. “I wanted you.” His fingers graze the thin fabric of my dress, sending electrical jolts of pleasure to my skin.

  “You said it was a one-time thing.”

  “I know what I said.” His voice cracks with strain, and then I notice the pinched look on his face, as though he’s had sleepless nights. “They made me a member.”

  “I thought you were leaving.”

  “I had no choice. I’m stuck here, just like you.”

  Just like me.

  My skin tingles as he reaches for the straps of my dress.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He laughs. “What do you think, sweetheart? I paid for an hour with you, and I intend to get it.”

  My spirits, which lifted to exponential heights when he walked through that door, come crashing down. I thought for a moment that he was going to take me away.

  But why the fuck would he do that?

  “Hey,” he says, touching my chin. “You had fun the other night, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to be your whore.”

  His hand slips, curving around my neck as he pulls me to his chest. God, he feels so good. A strong heartbeat thrums against his ribs, and his male musk invades my nostrils. Suddenly I remember his mouth on my neck, his naked body slick with sweat, and how the smell of him clung to my sheets.

  “How else was I supposed to see you again?”

  His fingers curl into the back of my head, digging into my scalp. Then he bends his head, his breath sweet over my lips. I arc my head, seizing his teasing mouth. His other hand slowly undresses me, tugging the tight fabric over my tits.

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about that wet pussy of yours.”

  Silas barely lets me breathe before he gives me another long, hungry kiss. My naked skin burns in the cool air, the very presence of him enough to make the room feel stifling. I touch his waist, remembering how big he felt inside me.

  “I’m still sore.”

  “You just need practice,” he says with a wicked grin.

  My skin stings as he kisses a line down my throat and between my tits. Then he grabs the edges of my dress and yanks so hard that it tears, but he doesn’t seem to give a fuck. Blind lust controls his movements, and he kisses me all the way down. He sucks me in and bites, overwhelmed, until I feel cool air hit my wet pussy.

  “Spread your legs.”

  I feel his command breathing over my wetness, and I spread m
y legs as the ache pounds inside me, watching him lean forward on his knees. What’s he doing?

  Then his tongue reaches out, tasting me, rolling up and down my clit.

  “Silas!”

  I scream his name in a high whisper, balling my fists in his wavy hair as he licks me all the way back, his lips glistening with my juice.

  The waves of pleasure feel like a thunderous force rolling through my body. I can barely stand. His lips are locked around my pussy, and his tongue reaches inside me as he smooths my thighs with his hands.

  The wet sound he makes when he pulls away makes my pussy clench.

  “I needed to get a taste of you.” He grabs my ass, licking his lips. Then he kisses my inner thigh, and I yelp as that kiss becomes a bite. He laughs and squeezes my ass.

  I feel like I’m a piece of meat for him. Something to suck, fuck, and bite. Then he stands up and pins me against the wall, and I’m sure the girls next door can hear us.

  My heart flutters as he kisses my neck, his smile brushing my skin.

  “What?”

  “Suck my cock.”

  He pushes down on my shoulders, and I realize how eager I am to take him in my mouth. He ate me out and gave me a throbbing ache—now I want to do the same to him. My nipples burn as he quickly undoes his belt and shoves down his slacks. Then his big hand pushes the back of my head and I have no choice but to swallow his thick cock. He sighs richly as I take him in my throat. I catch a glimpse of myself on my knees, my lips pressed firmly against his hips as he takes me all the way. My throat bulges, and I gag, watching his thickness slide out of me and pressing my lips against his balls when he flattens his hand against the back of my head.

  “That’s it. Take me all the way.”

  A string of saliva hangs over my chin as I suck him off, but I’m addicted to feeling the blood pounding through his cock, how he’s using my mouth like a fuck-toy. I love it. I reach down, touching myself.

  He pulls out, giving my mouth a break as I gasp and look up at him. He smiles at me, his face split by a wide grin.