Decadence After Dark: The Complete Collection (Dark Romance box set) : Owned, Claimed, Ruined, Lie With Me, Elicit (Decadence After Dark )

by M Never

  There’s a perturbed rumble in Kayne’s chest. I’m not sure what’s irking him more, the fact he wants to go and is scared shitless or the fact that I’m right.

  He hates it when I’m right.

  And I’m always right.

  “The answer is still no.”

  “Suit yourself, scaredy cat.”

  “Put a fucking sock in it and drive.” He pulls out his phone and ignores me the rest of the way home.

  I do the last of my checks and balances. In less than twenty-four hours, we’re going to have the right-hand man of one of the planet’s most notorious drug lords staying in this house. There’s no telling what’s going to happen after that. The plan is to lure El Rey out. Set up a meeting face to face. Mano y mano. If we’re going to do business, we want to know exactly who we’re doing business with. He’s the one who contacted us, after all. This is our ploy. And once he slips from the shadows, we’ll make our move. Execute a sneak attack.

  That’s if Javier doesn’t smell anything fishy. His preliminary visit will determine whether this plan pans out. One wrong move, one questionable action, and everyone in this house could end up in a body bag. El Rey isn’t known for his patience or compassion. He’s known for his ruthlessness and the blood trail he leaves in his wake.

  Kayne and I get one shot to do this right. We’re drawing the string, aiming the arrow, preparing to hit the target.

  And there’s no fucking room to miss.

  Everything is quiet. No clients, no work, no bullshit. The calm before the storm. I make my way out of my office, desperate to find some Zen. After tomorrow, who knows if and when I’ll get to meditate again. As I round the corner into the foyer, I run smack dab into Alistair and Amber in the midst of a heated conversation. Honestly, I don’t even want to know. Their issues are their issues, but I warned Alistair that if he’s going to stick around he needs to straighten things out with Amber, fast. Javier will sniff the tension a mile away. We need to come across aloof. Stringent businessmen who care more about the money than about the women. Not sure how well that’s going to fly. Secretive, cunning, and crafty are our middle names after tonight.

  I walk straight past them; they both eye me but don’t say a word. I hear the heated whispers pick up after I’m halfway up the stairs. When I make my way past Kayne’s room, I stop short. It looks like his closet threw up. There are clothes scattered everywhere. I wander in as he buttons a dress shirt in the mirror.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  “What does it look like? Getting dressed.”

  “A little indecisive tonight?” I make note of the room.

  Kayne yanks the collar of his shirt uncomfortably. “Just looking at all my options.”

  “Where ya going all dressed up?”

  “Out.”

  “Out where?” I smile obnoxiously. Like I don’t already know.

  “Just out.”

  “To see her?” I tease him. Oh, I am loving this. I wish I had a camera. Maybe I should get London to capture this moment. Kayne’s first date.

  “Yes.” He turns around, agitated. “Are you happy? I said it.”

  “Acceptance is the first step to recovery.”

  “Are you here to annoy me or encourage me?”

  “The latter. I’m glad you’re going. You need this.”

  He grimaces. “I’d better get to fucking bang her in the bathroom.”

  “That’s it, caveman. Show her who’s boss.”

  “You’re the one who planted the idea.”

  “And what a good idea it was, no?”

  Kayne glances at his watch dismissively. “I gotta go.”

  “Okay. Be safe. Use protection,” I advise parentally.

  “Spare me,” he grumbles, pushing past me.

  Aw, my little boy is all grown up and going out into the world.

  “About time you grew a pair!” I yell.

  “Keep talking and your pair will be a painful memory!” his voice carries.

  I walk out of Kayne’s room overly amused and slam right into his broad chest. “Didn’t you just leave?”

  “I forgot something.” He pulls a black phone out of his back pocket. “If it rings, answer it. It’s the only number Javier will call.”

  “Burner?”

  Kayne nods.

  “On it.”

  “We shouldn’t have to worry about it until tomorrow, but you never fucking know.”

  “I’ll sleep with it taped to my chest,” I assure him.

  Kayne nods again, the weight of the world reflecting in his unique blue eyes.

  “Don’t wait up.”

  I beam. “That’s my boy. Go get ’em, tiger.”

  “Dear god, shut up!” Kayne snaps, stalking down the hallway.

  I chuckle to myself. Tooooo easy.

  I sit cross-legged in the middle of my dojo, finally able to absorb the tranquility. In this room, I can find my mental silence, regain my balance, and reach a higher state of awareness. Meditation is my drug. London is my addiction.

  Two very different things that have the same effect. Both alter my consciousness like a narcotic.

  Inhaling and exhaling fluidly, I clear my mind and mentally prepare for what’s to come. Tomorrow morning, I’ll sit down and inform the girls that we’ll be having a house guest. I wanted to wait until the last possible second to tell them to avoid added stress. The less they know, the better. I don’t want Javier’s presence to interfere with business, so I’m attempting a quick, smooth transition. No time to slow down and analyze—just go, go, go.

  We’ll see how well that works out.

  From what Kayne has told me, Javier has little regard for the opposite sex and even less for a slave. Which none of my girls are. And he’d better realize that.

  I have zero tolerance for violence against women, especially my women.

  The floor creaks softly, and I suppress a smirk. I wonder if she has any idea I know she’s here. She’s been prowling around the room for the last five minutes. I continue to sit with my eyes closed, sensing her every move. When she’s so close I can smell her, I hear the snap.

  I pop open my eyes to find a large lens pointed in front of my face.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, trying not to smile like a goof.

  “Thirty-day photo challenge,” London informs me, snapping away.

  “What’s today’s challenge? The art of deception?”

  “No.” She drops the camera for a split second so I can see her cheerful face, then covers it with the black body, and the shutter clicks away. “Something interesting.”

  “You find me interesting?”

  “You are by far the most interesting man I’ve ever met.” Snap, snap, snap.

  “I take that as the highest compliment coming from you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.”

  London lowers her camera, despondently. “I’m not interesting. I’m . . .” She lets the sentence linger and goes back to shooting.

  “You’re what?” I press. Snap.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  I shoot my hand out and snatch her forearm, dragging her onto my lap before she can decipher what’s happening.

  “Whoa. Ninja.” She giggles as she falls into my arms.

  “Damn right. Don’t forget it.” I hug her tightly and nibble her neck. “I have an entire dojo to prove it. Complete with incense and Katana swords hanging on the wall.”

  “I can see that.” Her giggles morph into laughter as beautiful and enlivening as a string quartet. It’s such a rare sound I revel in it. “And I won’t forget it,” she purrs, stretching her neck, granting me better access.

  I inhale the beachy scent of her perfume as she cuddles against me. I’ve learned I’m happiest just touching her. No matter the where, when, or why. Just like this, simplicity in my arms, is more than enough.

  “You’ve taken a liking to that camera, huh?”

  “Ver
y much. It makes me happy. Now that I sort of know how to use it,” she confesses sweetly.

  “I’m glad it makes you happy,” I hum contentedly, as I possessively run my hands all over her body. “What else makes you happy?”

  Okay, so I’m totally fishing, but I’m dying to hear her say it. Say that I make her happy.

  “Nothing. That’s it. It’s all I need.” Her answer is flat, unambitious.

  I pause my petting and gaze dubiously at her. “C’mon, London, you have to want more than that. More than just what you do in this house.”

  She frowns with a wounded, guarded look in her stormy blue eyes. “This is all I am, Jett. This is all I deserve.”

  Her response renders me speechless. “You can’t believe that. This, right now, is just a pit stop. You can have more. A better life.” With me, I want to tack on, but I choke.

  “A better life?” She pushes out of my grasp. “There is no better life for me.”

  “There can be,” I argue.

  “No, there can’t.” She shoots to her feet and heads for the door. I’m in front of her in a millisecond.

  “Why are you getting so upset?” I push, but she just keeps her head down in silence. “London.” I take her chin, battling with her to look up at me. The pained sigh she emits breaks me; the tears brimming in her eyes finish me off. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not crying,” she huffs.

  Tough little bird. Even when she’s visibly upset, she won’t own up. That’s one of my favorite things about her. Her grit.

  “Fine,” I pacify her. “You’re not technically crying, but you’re clearly upset. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “Nothing,” she replies meekly.

  I pin her with a skeptical glare. “Don’t make me tie you up and tickle it out of you. I’m deadly with a rope and feather,” I warn.

  She stares at me blankly. “You’re threatening me with tickle torture?”

  “If that’s what it comes to. I’m a ruthless man.”

  London’s lip quivers. “No, you’re not.” Her voice is hushed.

  “I can be if I need to,” I caution, tucking some burgundy hair behind her ear.

  She steps back cautiously.

  “I would never hurt you,” I promise.

  “You say that now.”

  “And I mean it,” I spit seriously. “I mean it today, tomorrow, and the next day. And every fucking day after that.”

  London’s cagy demeanor doesn’t change. She doubts me. And it fucking stings.

  We stare at each other at an impasse.

  “Don’t do that,” I entreat.

  “Do what?”

  “Push me away.”

  “I’m not pushing you away.”

  “Bullshit. You’re doing it right now. I see it on your face. In your eyes. What is it going to take for you to trust me? For you to believe I mean what I say?”

  “I do believe you.” Her reply is so robotic she may as well be a Stepford wife. Every syllable a rehearsed response. The second we take two steps forward, we immediately take three steps back. Whatever she’s suffering with, whatever her past, it’s hindering her life. Hindering her from any kind of relationship and closing her off to the world.

  “If that’s the truth, then tell me what you want,” I challenge her. “Open up to me.” I trap her face in my hands. Tell me you want me.

  A moment of heavy silence passes and then a complete blockade.

  “Why are you pushing this?” She turns defensive.

  “Because I want to know you.” I shake her head, hoping I’m shaking some sense into her.

  “You do know me.” Her eyes flare with anger. “You know how to dress me up and sell me to your clients. You know how to make me come, and now, you know how to piss me off. I’d say you know me pretty damn well.”

  My jaw drops open, shocked at what I’m hearing. Not that any of it is untrue, she’s just never hinted that it bothers her. Until now.

  “I’m just a pawn in your shitty game of chess. That’s all I’ll ever be. No one. Nothing.” She yanks her head out of my grasp.

  “Hey.” I snatch her arm before she gets too far. “I’ve never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. And I’ve never treated you like you’re no one.”

  “Oh, really? I’m someone, huh? I’m so important to you,” she ridicules. “What if I told you I was done? That I want to pursue this wonderful and mystical life you talk about.” Disdain drips off her words. “Are you just going to let your cash cow stroll out the door? Do you see me as that much of a person that you’re willing to just let me leave, no arguments, no questions asked?” Her tone is scathing.

  The image of her leaving is horrific. It paralyzes me.

  “That’s what I thought.” London misinterprets my silence, tugging her arm loose before storming out the door.

  What the fuck just happened?

  I know I was just hit by Hurricane London. A woman like none other. A challenge. A mystery. A closed book with an eye-catching cover.

  Just as I go after her to set her ass straight, the piercing sound of a phone rings. I freeze, then turn slowly around.

  I cross the room, following the sound, and sure as shit, as if all the bad luck in the world just rained down, that damn burner is blowing up.

  Fuck.

  I swipe it off the floor where I left it, and with an anxious breath answer, “Hello?”

  Silence.

  Fuck.

  Heart hammering seconds pass.

  “Mr. Kayne?” A deep voice comes through the phone.

  “No. This is his associate, Jett. Kayne has been called away.”

  Static.

  “Javier will be landing in one hour.”

  “Landing in an hour? We weren’t expecting him until tomorrow.”

  “He’ll be there tonight.”

  Click.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  I fly out of the room, protocol twisting in the wind. I grab a clean shirt from my room and tear through the house on a hunt for Alistair. He’s not in the common room or his room. Before scanning the security monitors, I check one more place. My instincts tell me that’s where I’ll find him.

  I bang on Amber’s door before I barrel into the room. Just as I thought.

  Alistair has Amber pinned down on her stomach, hands secured tightly behind her back.

  By the looks of it, Alistair has enlisted his dominant alter ego to aide in winning Amber back over. By the sound of it, it’s working.

  “Do you mind?” He doesn’t even bother to stop fucking her while he addresses me.

  “Yes, I do. Our house guest is arriving early.” That gets his attention. “Finish up and watch the girls while I’m gone.” I don’t give him the opportunity to answer. I just disappear.

  In the limo, on the way to the private airport, I execute some due diligence, first and foremost calling Kayne. A dozen times. With no answer. I wonder if my prediction already came true. Second, I text Juice. One message from my personal cell phone that will have no reply. That’s the understanding.

  The import is arriving early.

  I erase the outgoing message, then drive the rest of the way sitting on a pin cushion.

  I try Kayne one last time to no avail before I pull onto the tarmac without a second to spare as the private jet taxis.

  I get out of the car, prepared to meet one of the most notorious men on the planet. I’m not shitting at all.

  It’s a comfortable May night. The breeze is warm, and the air is clear, but the energy is off. Way off. Laced with a foreboding tangibility.

  The door to the jet opens, and I hold my breath, cursing myself that I encouraged Kayne to go out. We should have seen this little stunt coming.

  A moment later, a man in a plain white dress shirt and black slacks appears. He looks down on me with a malignant gaze and the hair on the back of my neck stands straight up. It’s like I’m setting eyes on one of Lucifer’s demons in the flesh.


  Then he smiles. And I’m overtaken with nothing but dread.

  He bounds down the stairs as if he’s lighter than air. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he doesn’t have a hoard of sex slaves suffering at a secret compound or work for a man who inundates the world with drugs and leaves a blood trail wherever he goes.

  I open the limo door, playing into my steward role.

  Javier slips inside motioning with his hand to his bag still sitting at the entrance of the jet. I jog up the stairs to retrieve it, and when I reach the top step, I nearly puke. Four men. Two naked girls. Cuts, blood, bruises, and four pleading eyes. I have never felt more homicidal in my life than at this moment. Reprehensibly, conscience-stricken, I pick up the bag and walk backward down the stairs. Despising my actions. Despising myself. Despising Javier for being allowed to walk this earth as long as he has.

  I drop the leather carry-on in the trunk then slip back into the driver’s seat, prepared to bring this monster into my house.

  “So where is Kayne?” Javier’s menacing voice is suddenly right behind me.

  “Out for the evening,” I inform him squarely as I put the car in drive.

  “Is he?” Javier sounds perversely intrigued.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go see him, shall we?” The tip of a knife is suddenly digging into my throat.

  I swallow thickly. The blade alarmingly alerting me to its presence.

  Fucking hell.

  I watch Javier slither into the restaurant, then grab the phone and try Kayne for the zillionth time. Of all the fucking nights to go MIA! I throw the phone at the dashboard when I hear his voicemail yet again. Son of a bitch!

  I consider going in, but if Javier sees me before Kayne does, it could raise a red flag. I have to trust Kayne can handle Javier’s surprise appearance.