by Lana Grayson
It was the first time I thought of the heir as an actual baby. A part of me. Living. Breathing. Cuddled against Sarah’s breast.
My vision seared with fury.
No one would ever hurt Sarah, but I’d kill before anyone harmed our child.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s still impossible.”
Then why did the thought still hurt so much?
“Do this for a month,” I said. “We’ll give my father what he wants, and he can waste his time hoping for a miracle. This is going to end, Sarah. I promise you.”
“I won’t take the drugs.”
“We don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice!” Her voice layered with frustration, sadness. “Reed offered to run away with me.”
The implication was a knife to the heart.
Max earned my ire for daring to mark her skin, but I never expected betrayal from Reed. My youngest brother had more courage or common sense than me.
“Why did you stay?”
“Because of you.” Sarah didn’t dare fall into my arms. She straddled the same insecurity I battled, trapped between passion and fear. “I wasn’t about to leave you. I’m in love with you, Nick. Even though I know it’ll only end badly.”
“It won’t. I promise Sarah, I will earn everything for you. The company, our wealth, your freedom. It’ll be yours.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Don’t give up now. Don’t let my father scare you. Trust me. I can do this for you.”
“It’s not for me. You’re doing it for yourself.”
“I’m not.”
Her voice trembled. “Downstairs, the most evil man in the world is prepared to do horrible things to my body. Your plan is to let it happen.”
“If he knew I was organizing the amendment, he’d murder you this instant.”
“So, you let him inject me with hormones.”
“Sarah, I promise you—”
“Are you hoping I’ll get pregnant?”
My silence was the answer she feared and expected.
She struggled just to look at me. “How can I trust you when this plan is an easy way for you to get what you want?”
“I’ve never been dishonest with you. You knew every time I took you, I was trying—”
“And if it works?”
“You said it wasn’t possible.”
“But where does it end?” Her voice hollowed. “More drugs? More sex? What if he decides to do it himself—”
“He won’t.”
“I can’t take that chance.”
“Sarah—”
“And what happens if you’re successful?” She hardened. No longer the little fairy trapped in my grasp but a force of nature roaring for destruction. “How do I know you won’t seize control of my company?”
“How do I know you’ll return my stock when you take over the Bennett Corporation?”
Silence. The stalemate broke only with her whisper.
“Don’t you dare judge me for being scared,” she said. “Not when the collar is around my neck, and the scars on my body came from the hands of a Bennett.”
“Sarah, I don’t judge you. You are the strongest, most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” I touched her cheek, my thumb brushing the hint of freckles dusting her skin. “If I had a fraction of your courage, this would already be done.”
“Don’t say that. You’re the only reason I’m holding myself together.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re probably right.” She leaned into me. “I know you can be a good man, Nick. I want to feel safe with you.”
“You are.”
“Prove it?” It wasn’t a challenge but a plea.
“I can. I will.” I held her tighter. “Max may protect you from pain, and Reed might have offered to take you away, but I am the only one who can end this madness.”
“Then what aren’t you telling me?”
It wasn’t a secret—it was the one truth that would devastate her. I couldn’t reveal the board’s interests yet, not when I needed her cooperation to take the drugs that would save her from my father.
“I haven’t told you I loved you today.”
She pushed. I didn’t let her escape.
“I haven’t you told you how much you mean to me. How badly I hate what he’s doing to you.”
“Ready to shout it from the rooftops?”
“No. This doesn’t have to be shouted,” I said. “I tell you, over and over, that you’re mine. And I like that thought. Part of me demands I prove it to you every morning and night. And part of me wants to kill my brothers for touching you.”
She went still. I bumped my forehead against hers, breathing in her sweet, fruit-kissed scent.
“I have no right to claim you, Sarah Atwood. In truth, I belong to you. I’ve been yours since the moment we met. Now every time I hold you, kiss you, or slip inside you, I lose even more of myself.” I brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I would rather fade away completely than spend another second pretending to be the Nicholas Bennett I once was.”
“Sweet words from the man holding me captive.”
“Do this, and I’ll have more than words to offer you.”
“You’re asking a lot.”
“I always do.”
She sighed. “We can’t give him some other concession?”
“This is the last one.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she whispered. “Don’t make me regret this.”
I already was, if only because her life measured in months and was worth only the billions her obedience secured. I removed the collar from her neck, but simply guiding Sarah to her new fate bound her more to me than if I forced her to crawl at my feet.
My father waited for us.
Introduced me to the doctor.
And Sarah trembled as he handed the prescription’s instructions to me.
“We must fire one hundred people from Engineering.”
My father expected my answer, studying me from beyond the desk.
I scanned my reports. “One hundred?”
“The quarterly reports aren’t great, and the board isn’t happy. What do you think?” He waited as I let the silence linger. “Nicholas. This is your first real test. I gave you the presidency of the engineering firm before the board felt it was appropriate. Don’t make me regret this.”
As if the board had any real say in our company’s decisions. I flipped through the pages. Checked the math. Tallied the salaries and healthcare, benefits and accumulated time. Twenty-one years old and I managed a multi-billion dollar branch of our company. No decision came lightly.
“I planned for fifty,” I said.
“We’re looking for stability.”
“I planned for sustainability.”
My father folded his hands. “This is business, Nicholas. Liabilities and assets. Either one hundred people are fired or—”
“Then fire them.”
My father nodded as I flipped through the papers one last time. He expected an explanation or a protest, but I could do nothing with the failing division he gave me. He tested me with the livelihood of one hundred employees. Any weakness, and it’d be another hundred losing their jobs to teach the lesson.
I didn’t speak the truth, but I didn’t lie to my father. Not entirely.
“My calculations were incorrect.” I accepted his offered whiskey. “I don’t like being wrong.”
“You’ll learn, son.” He toasted me. “I’ll teach you. One day you’ll run this company and family exactly as I plan, just as effectively as me.”
No.
I’d do it better.
My father expected me to inject Sarah myself. After the poking and prodding, bloodwork and inspections of her exposed and trembling body, the doctor and my father decided it would be me delivering her medications every morning.
Beginning right then.
She didn’t look at me. She didn’t look at the need
le. And she didn’t look at my father.
She prepared herself for battle.
That was why I loved her. That was why I hurt her. That was why I had to betray her this one last time. The drugs would either secure our future or rip us apart.
I pushed the syringe’s plunger.
It would be the last time I hurt her.
10
Sarah
“Loop the rope under her breasts once more.” Darius studied me from behind his desk. “It can be tighter. I’m not taking a chance on her running.”
Max glanced to Nicholas before obeying the order. We were fortunate Darius didn’t notice.
The rope cast tight over my body, twisting over my breasts, binding my stomach, and, worst of all, stretching between my legs. It tugged my slit, and within moments of Max finishing his last knot, the pull of the nylon overwhelmed me. The sensation shifted from weird to painful.
“Walk, my dear.” Darius spared me no sympathy since the failed pregnancy test. If I was to make a public appearance at Reed’s charity gala, he would punish every moment of my freedom. “Are you comfortable?”
“No.”
“Good. Dress her. Adjust whatever rope shows through the material.”
He commissioned the dress from a French boutique. It glittered as if spun from sunshine itself. Nicholas bundled the silk and helped set it in place as the bindings limited my movement. The sleeves hung low over my shoulders, and the corset dazzled with subtle accented stones. The ropes hid perfectly under the ruffles as the gown teased the floor in sweeping, silken movement. No one would see what Darius Bennett hid beneath the silk.
That was a secret kept between a father and his little girl.
The stylists finished before the bondage. He surveyed my hair and pale pink lipstick as though I were a living doll—a toy for him to torture, dress, and exploit. The bright gown did nothing to age me. I looked like a girl off to homecoming, and the light makeup and darling curls masked me in angelic innocence.
A perfect daughter.
A helpless prisoner.
The thick ropes constrained my chest worse than the corset. Darius didn’t care. He planned for me to be uncomfortable and bound, unable to easily escape. The tug of the nylon burned against my breasts, ached my chest, and tormented my clit until it hurt.
It would be a miserable night.
“Lovely,” Darius said. “You’d be more beautiful if you were swelling with a child, but soon enough. Nicholas, you will escort her.”
Nicholas had said nothing while his brother bound me in lengths of rope. Now he offered his arm.
It wasn’t a gentleman’s courtesy.
He had escorted me too many times this week, guiding me to his father’s office where he injected the fertility drug under Darius’s supervision. The humiliation would happen for twelve consecutive days before the final injection induced my ovulation.
I hoped Darius wouldn’t supervise that aspect of my treatment.
Nicholas held my elbow and Max attended my other side as we ducked into the limo. They tried to shield me from Darius. It didn’t work. Anywhere his voice grated was too close. The leather seat twisted the ropes under my dress. I squirmed, but the bindings cut into every sensitive spot on my body. Darius noticed.
“Does it hurt, my dear?”
Not that I would admit. My silence amused him.
“At least you’re an obedient little girl when there’s ropes digging into your cunt. I should have done this weeks ago.” He rapped the closed glass separating us from the driver. The limo departed. “This should be an easy night. You are not to speak unless spoken to, Sarah. You will not leave your brothers’ sides. You will remain polite and courteous. Am I understood?”
It was less demanding than the orders my father issued when the Atwood’s attended events.
“I wouldn’t dream of disrespecting the Bennett name,” I said. “Not when it could cost me so much.”
It wasn’t the answer Darius expected, but screaming rape in a crowded ballroom would tank my future company. I’d ensure the Bennett Corporation thrived in their profits and success before I ripped it from Darius’s clutches.
He didn’t react. I braced for a slap across the mouth, or a veiled threat for Max to tie the ropes around my neck instead.
“I know you’ll make Daddy proud.”
Max shifted, but Nicholas possessed an uncanny ability to remain still, steadfast, and unaffected. I envied his skill almost as much as I feared his father. Darius hadn’t pricked me with the needle of the fertility drugs. He hadn’t beaten me or tried to rape me. His tortures turned…mental. Offering to sell the research? Dressing me in pretty little outfits with darkness strapped beneath? Presenting me to his partners and board members as his new daughter?
He didn’t raise a hand when I challenged him.
That was worse than anything he’d done in the past.
Reed requisitioned a popular ballroom for his extravagant gala. Black tie was apparently a family tradition, but Reed’s event offered more creativity than what Darius permitted within his iron-fisted expectations of his sons. Spotlights and a string quartet greeted the arriving guests, the more famous of which delighted the crowded red-carpet with quick photographs.
I squinted. A comedian, sitcom actress, and mayor posed for a picture. Not a bad haul, though Atwood events usually commanded more State Supreme Court justices and lobbyists than celebrities.
The gala supported the Bennett Foundation, but the head of the household directed the assigned personal assistants to guide us to a secondary entrance. He preferred something low-key. Something less likely for me to make a spectacle.
Or escape.
As if the ropes constricting me in every horrible, disgusting place would let me run away.
“Smile, my dear.” Darius offered his arm. “All eyes are on us.”
He wasn’t lying.
Though his touch should have left a line of bruises over my skin, his hold appeared nothing less than gentlemanly—fatherly—as the crowded ballroom parted for us. Worse, I clung to him for support. The ropes burned as much as the shame, especially the one tucked between the folds of my slit. Every sway of my hips dragged it deeper. I leaned on Darius, as if I trusted, admired, or respected the damned toad. I would have preferred the gala see the bondage wrapping my body than my reliance on my step-father.
Darius molested me without a single touch.
I wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing how much it panicked me.
So I pretended I didn’t care. For one night, I escaped the Bennett’s prison only to enter a world of even worse restraint. Money attracted money. I recognized most of the gala’s attendees. The Bennett and Atwoods circles overlapped, even if the families never did. My presence was more surprising to the guests than the appearance of an action movie star.
I hadn’t seen most of these people since my brothers’ funerals.
I’d endured less stares at their wake.
An airy waltz strummed from the string quartet. The rumble of conversation, chortled laughter, and hushed gossip threaded throughout the beats. The cocktail hour was little more than a checkered flag to begin judgement.
Despite the formal dress, waltzes and blossoming, white flowers transforming the Versailles-inspired ballroom into a lovely garden, nothing changed from the day-to-day cutthroat lifestyle of high society. The Bennetts might have been the only family with the gall to kidnap and rape, but that didn’t mean their guests didn’t look upon me with a presumption worse than hatred.
Pity.
“Sarah Atwood!” One of my father’s former golfing partners shook my hand in passing. “So sorry I never caught you after Josiah and Mike’s funerals. Hopefully, you’ll be well enough soon to take over where they left off.”
Great. Everyone heard about the asthma. The secret my father kept hidden was what Darius shouted to the masses to explain my social disappearance. I accepted the compliment with grace and tried to slither from
Darius’s arm.
His hold only tightened.
The Bennett’s friends offered greetings, business associates toasted Darius, and strangers admired our charming new family. Darius showed me off to people who benefited from knowing I was still alive, and I was forced to shuffle at his side, bound by the unseen, aching rope.
And there. Only twenty feet from me.
Roman Wescott.
The investor who might have ended all of this insanity.
He was younger than I anticipated, and far more handsome, if not a little…guarded. He packed with lean muscle, but his eyes chiseled just as hard as his physique. Grey, like carved stone.
He conversed with a small group near the bar, but stood too far to be properly greeted without alerting Darius to my intentions. If he saw me or Nicholas, he didn’t react.
Darius checked his watch. “We will stay through this cocktail hour. I have one more person for Sarah to greet…if she behaves.”
Since when did I ever meet his expectations?
His arm entwined in mine, as tight and revolting as the ropes restraining my movement. I hated that I forced pleasantries with his friends. Hated that I squirmed under his hand. That I suffocated in his musky cologne.
The curl of his fingers was a measured humiliation. He pretended he was a real step-father—that he hadn’t forced me over his desk, stripped me of my dignity, and attempted to violate me with pain.
I slammed my heel against his foot as he dared to guide me away.
This ended now.
No more pretending.
No more waiting for trusts and scheming in the shadows.
I wasn’t cowering any more, not when I had the money, the power, and the alliances of his sons.
This time, he was going to fear me.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me.”
Max downed his champagne. “Aw, fuck.”
“Sarah, not here,” Nicholas warned.
Darius twitched, concocting a dozen different punishments and perversions to punish my disobedience. “Be a good little girl, and take Daddy’s hand.”