OWNED_A Dark Mystery Romance

by Shayne Ford

  He looks at me again.

  “The last time we were together... That night in your apartment.”

  Blood rushes to my cheeks.

  “I knew that her people were following me. I was perfectly aware that they’d see us. Someone took pictures of us with a long-range lens, and that’s how she got the proof that she always wanted. Predictably, she started to blackmail me the very next day. She fell right into my trap.”

  He pauses again.

  “You set a trap for me as well, and I fell right into it. That night at her party,” I rush to remind him.

  A bitter smile curves his lips.

  “Yeah... That night,” he mutters as if he recollects that moment.

  “I needed you out of the story,” he says, raising his gaze again. “And I wanted her to believe me that our breakup was real. There was no better way to do that than you being genuinely angry,” he says, the ghost of a smile fleeting across his lips.

  He turns serious again.

  “I knew that once I started to mess with her plans, she’d make mistakes. I needed all that chaos to be able to challenge my father’s will. I had enough material to contest it on the grounds of lacking testamentary capacity, not understanding the consequences of his will. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle, but I was ready to fight her. Because I wanted to be free more than anything else.”

  Silence falls over the room.

  “Do you think I’m a monster?” he quietly asks after a while.

  My eyes get washed with tears.

  “I’m not so sure that I am the best person to judge.”

  “Do you?” he asks again.

  He looks at me, waiting for my answer.

  I gather that my opinion is important to him.

  It is important for me to know as well.

  “I wouldn’t be here, would I?” I mutter.

  He smiles at me.

  “Are you afraid of me?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say in one breath.

  He laughs quietly.

  “It doesn’t help that all the people who I have talked to about you were of the same opinion,” I say.

  He’s still smiling but soon his grin withers away.

  “I’m not as bad as you think I am. I haven’t been closed to anyone in a long while. I grew up like that, and for the longest time, I lived in a tense environment in which I was permanently at war. That’s why, in a sense, Jacqueline messed with the wrong man. I was used to the war of attrition. I pretty much invented it in my family. My father was good at it, and Jacqueline was pretty good herself, but to me, it was a way of living,” he adds, sadness lining his voice.

  A few more moments pass by.

  “Were you…?” I start.

  He tips his gaze at me.

  “Have you bought Stephan Leon’s art? Her nudes?”

  He nods.

  “Why?”

  “They are part of their story and don’t belong to the public. I knew he needed the money, and they were greatly executed, so I decided to bid on them.”

  “You also wanted to remove some of your guilt.”

  A soft smile curls his lips.

  “Perhaps.”

  “Same goes for her estate.”

  “Yes. I never wanted her money. She knew that.”

  “So what do you intend to do from this point on?”

  He tips his chin, motioning at the stack of books on the table.

  “Read. Travel... Sail once in a while. I may need to reinvent myself,” he says, a soft smile lining his lips again.

  “Why here?”

  “I wanted a place where I’m a nobody.”

  “A clean slate?”

  “Yes. In a way...”

  “And you want me to be part of the process?”

  “Maybe,” he says, pushing back another smile.

  “How do you imagine all this?”

  He ponders for a moment.

  “You have to let me show you a different part of mine.”

  “What if I don’t like it?” I ask.

  A sly grin beams on his face, lighting up her eyes.

  “I’m willing to take the risk.”

  “What if I still have reservations when it comes to you?”

  “If you give me some time I’ll disperse them.”

  “You are that confident, huh?”

  “You gave me no reason not to be,” he says, a secret smile tilting his lips.

  I stay quiet.

  Our eyes locked.

  “What holds you back?” he finally asks.

  His upper lip almost imperceptibly quivers.

  “Everything. The future...”

  “What’s wrong with the future?”

  He leans back into his seat, his arm propped on the sofa, his ankle resting on his knee.

  He looks relaxed. I sense him tense.

  “The future is built on the past. The past was woven with so many lies.”

  His eyes darken.

  He moves his eyes away from me and straightens, shifting his position as well. Now, he rests his elbows on his knees.

  My eyes go to his beautiful hands as he laces his fingers together.

  “I can’t change the past, Tess,” he says with a solemn voice, tilting his gaze to me.

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “What is it then?”

  “It’s how you found me.”

  His eyebrows lift in surprise.

  A questioning look slides onto his face.

  “We would’ve never met had you not caught Allan having an affair with your wife.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “It could’ve been anyone else, Sebastien. And you would’ve probably done the same thing, had you had the slightest chemistry with that person. Despite all the words you said to me, it wasn’t only me that made you feel attracted to me. You had an ulterior motive.”

  “You don’t know that,” he interferes, rather abruptly.

  “But I do. You said it yourself that you came across my picture when you received the reports from your people.”

  He shoots me a pointed look.

  “And that changes everything how?”

  I study his face for a few moments before I push to my feet.

  “I think I need to leave now,” I say coldly.

  He rises as well.

  His eyes lock mine, brimming with questions.

  “Can you at least let me change your mind?”

  “There’s nothing to change,” I say, picking up the memory stick and slipping it into my purse.

  He grabs my arm and spins me to him.

  I stop inches away from him.

  “You can’t be serious,” he says, grappling with disbelief.

  I drink his face for a moment. His eyes, his lips… Then read his expression.

  “Listen to me...” I start with a soft voice. “We both have our freedom now. And we both are new people, in a sense. The future needs to be built on who we are right now. Not on the past. There are so many things between us that we can’t undo. We are the guardians of each other secrets. We are tied in ways impossible to be severed. You were trapped once. And I was very close to that as well. That’s not what I want in our future. If in fact, we have one...”

  The furrow of his brow flattens and then disappears.

  “We need to be sure that we both want it. And we need to have an idea of what it would look like. I don’t want either of us to feel trapped. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to wake up one day and look at me and realize that freedom might have been a better choice. I’m a different person now, and I like my freedom.”

  A soft smile threads through his gaze.

  I freeze and search his eyes.

  No.

  But, of course…

  I slide my hand to my neck.

  “But you, um… You must know all that,” I say as he dips his gaze at my neck as well.

  Slowly, I set my purse down on the table and under his baff
led eyes, unfasten my necklace.

  I let it crumple into a heap of outrageously expensive metal, cuff his wrist and flip his hand up.

  “I no longer want any of this,” I say, dropping it in his palm. “If you want to mesmerize me from now and surprise me with your insightfulness Mr. Random Thoughts you need to do it without the help of electronic devices. You just have to guess what’s in my mind like everybody else.”

  A grin creeps up his lips.

  “Flowers allowed?” he asks, shifting his palm and closing his hand around my wrist.

  He holds the necklace with the other hand.

  “Flowers, music, pictures, messages... Anything that doesn’t have to do with spying on me. We’re going old school with this.”

  “Sexy clips?” he murmurs in my ear as he snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me into him.

  “Um...”

  I get distracted for a moment as his hand slides up my back, tracing my spine before it settles at the back of my neck.

  “New sexy clips...” he offers, his lips trailing along my jawline.

  “This is called cheating, Mr. Rockford,” I say smiling.

  “It’s the best kind that I can offer.”

  He straightens and looks at me, his eyes already putting a spell on me.

  “No tricks.”

  “None,” he says, his smile telling me otherwise.

  He tears his hands away from me and shifts his eyes to the necklace.

  From the back of the pendant, he removes a tiny bead that looks like a stone. He slides it in his pocket.

  “Is that it?” I ask, dumbfounded.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He wraps the jewelry around my neck and nudges me to turn around.

  His fingers brush my skin as he clasps the ends of the necklace together.

  “When do you plan on going back?” he asks as I pivot back to him.

  “Monday.”

  He tips his chin down, smiling as he gives me a smooth once-over.

  “How about you let me show you around the island the next couple of days?”

  He flicks his gaze up, waiting for my response.

  “We can go sailing tomorrow, and then we can dance.”

  “Dance?” I mutter, getting lost in his eyes.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  His smile is so suggestive, and yet, I can’t help myself and stare.

  He closes the space between us again and wraps his arms around me, his lips coming to my lips.

  Slowly, they leave a kiss on mine.

  A kiss that makes me shudder with pleasure. He moves his lips to my ear.

  “Speaking about the future...” he murmurs. “You will not be able to live without me... I promise you that.”

  19

  TESS

  He picks me up the next day, and we spent most of the morning sailing.

  We spend the hours, burying the past, redefining the present and laying a new foundation for the future. We keep each other company, and we enjoy each other presence, focusing on living in the moment.

  We take a few long walks, read together, have lunch in a taverna and sip the afternoon coffee on a terrace beneath the thick shadow of the trees. He tells me stories from his childhood, from way before his past became a liability, and I share tales about my upbringing, portraying a completely different person than I am today.

  We spend about an hour apart as we both get ready for the evening.

  Close to five o’clock, I exit the shower and pick up a few clothing options from the closet. I settle for a red dress with a lace-up corset-like top and halter neckline and an asymmetrical multitiered, ruffle, full skirt reminiscent of a flamenco dancer.

  I smile as I pin a red camellia in my hair and run my fingers through my locks. Spending the day in the sun laid a tinge of bronze on my face. My eyes look lively, my cheeks are flushed.

  A coating of mascara goes on my lashes and a dash of red lipstick on my lips.

  A smile beams on my face as I glance in the mirror. I twirl a few times, enchanted with what I see. I look like one of the women in the paintings I saw hanging on the walls of his old home.

  The sound of dialogue seeps through the walls of my room. I hear footsteps and then the rapping on the door.

  “Come in.”

  The door slides open, and the owner of the house greets me first before she steps to the side and makes room for him to walk in.

  “Mr. Sebastien is here,” she says, smiling.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything you need just let me know,” she says before she smoothly closes the door and retreats.

  His eyes go down on me, a grin tilting the corners of his lips.

  “Do you like it?” I ask, doing a twirl for him.

  He raises his eyes and takes my hand.

  “I love it,” he says before he gently kisses the back of my knuckles.

  I start to melt.

  “You said we were going to dance,” I say more like an excuse.

  He locks my eyes.

  “Yes. And you’re perfect,” he mutters, his eyes glinting with pleasure.

  I close the space between us and bring my fingers to his lips.

  “You too,” I mutter.

  Tenderly he snakes an arm around my waist, pulls me into him, and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. My nostrils fill with the scent of his cologne.

  I take a step back and give him a quick once-over.

  He fashions an all-black attire. Slim fitting pants and dress shirt with the neckline open, the root of his neck exposed.

  The fabric molds to his muscular torso, the way his pants fit spurring all kinds of naughty thoughts in my head.

  “What...?” he murmurs, smiling devilishly.

  “You’re set to get what you want, aren’t you?”

  He scrunches up his nose with a sly smile.

  “I can say the same thing about you,” he says, cocking an eyebrow and tossing me a cheeky grin.

  I laugh quietly.

  “We’re late,” I say.

  He slowly shakes his head.

  “You can never be late on a Greek Island. They barely finished eating their lunch.”

  I laugh again.

  “It’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is. I’ll show you. Let’s go.”

  He walks me out of the house. The streets are washed with red-orange sunlight as the sun descends toward the sea.

  “This is beautiful,” I say, stopping in the middle of the road, looking at the water mesmerized.

  “There’s a better place where we can watch it,” he says.

  We take a turn a moment later.

  Soon we climb white snaking stairs that take us to a large terrace.

  My lips part in surprise as my eyes soak in the beautiful image.

  As the sun changes colors and splashes light across the water, the sea turns into a mirror of fire. A myriad of colors thread through the sky, the red light rolling over the water, the white buildings, and the azure rooftops.

  He walks me to the edge of the terrace as if we step into a cathedral. The sound of the people celebrating in town echo somewhere in the distance as the lights and the colors display their spellbinding beauty.

  “It’s stunning, isn’t it?” he asks, enthralled, his eyes set on the horizon.

  “Yes, it is,” I mutter watching the shift of color from blue to purple, red and pink flamingo.

  The white trail of a remote plane glimmers across the sky.

  Far, far away, ghostly ships glide over the water.

  I tilt my gaze to him and study him. His skin glows under the kiss of light, his eyes reflecting it.

  His hair looks darker, and his eyes deeper as he watches the boats sailing in the distance.

  My gaze trails down, following the column of his neck, and the line of his shoulders.

  “You love it here, don’t you?” I ask.

  He turns his eyes to me, a smile sprouting on his lips.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  His ey
es narrow as he observes me for a moment.

  “Where do you plan on living in the future?” I ask.

  His grin stretches.

  “I don’t know...” he says, smirking suggestively as he lets his gaze drift down on me.

  “Here... There. Everywhere,” he says lifting his eyes.

  “Where’s there?”

  “Back home.”

  “You sold your house.”

  “That might be a problem,” he says jokingly, and we both start laughing.

  “Seriously, now.”

  “Seriously, I don’t know,” he says, no longer smiling. “I don’t want to think about it. I’m not sure I want to settle anywhere right now,” he says, sincerely.

  “That sounds like a great plan,” I say, no innuendo in my voice.

  He cocks his head, intrigued.

  “Is that a trap?” he asks, smiling.

  “No. It really is great,” I say.

  “Do you have second thoughts about me now?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He seems to wrestle with disbelief.

  I give him a grin and push up on my toes, my breath fanning on his lips as he tips his head down.

  “The question had nothing to do with us... Forget about it. I want to dance with you right now.”

  “Good,” he says, flicking his fingers up.

  I pull away.

  “What is that?” I ask as the live music starts playing in the background.

  “We’re dancing now,” he says playfully as he takes my hand and curls his arm around me.

  “You are a man full of surprises.”

  “You knew that,” he mutters.

  “Yes, I did. And yet, this feels like a brand new beginning.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  He pulls me closer to him as we let ourselves carried away by the beautiful music, surrounded by the enrapturing view.

  As we spin, I revisit my old, so dear to me, daydream.

  Looking back, I realize that it was way more than a dream. Perhaps it was my mind, asking my imagination to create an alternate reality for me. Or maybe, it was the universe clueing me on what was set to come.

  Whatever it was, my dream and the reality superimpose perfectly now.

  Half an hour later, we leave the terrace behind and walk the cobblestones streets down to the closest tavern. We have dinner and drink wine, and dance again as if the world is about to end.

  Freedom never looked better, and he never looked happier.

  It’s late at night when we return to the beautiful terrace. The live music is gone. Instead, a small table waits for us. Dressed in white linens, garnished with candles, food and more wine.