by Lana Grayson
I was trapped.
“You didn’t tell me.” My words weakened as the ropes strangled me beneath my dress. “You didn’t tell Max or Reed.”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“Of course it does!”
“My father involved only the investors he trusts.”
“Nick, those are the ones who hold the majority.”
“Once you inherit the trust, this will be nothing,” he said. “You’ll control the board, regardless of what they’re doing to steal your company.”
Like it would matter.
Like I could face the men who damned me to a life of imprisonment and abuse.
“Don’t pretend, Nick.” My fingers clutched his arms, but it’d be my voice that sharpened enough to draw blood. “You did nothing to stop it. You agreed with the board and did everything they told you to do.”
“To save your life.”
“You haven’t saved me at all.”
I had to get away. The longer I stayed in his embrace, the more likely I’d collapse against him and use his strength instead of my own.
He had captured me that way once.
It wouldn’t happen again.
“I thought your father was evil. If I had known your entire company was this demented, I’d have set my farm on fire just to end this insanity.”
“Sarah—”
I couldn’t escape Nicholas’s arms. He led me into a swaying circle as though he planned for the dip in the music and charming swirl. “You kept this from us.”
“If Reed and Max knew, they might have attacked the board. Who knows what my father would have done.” He paused. “And I didn’t want to frighten you.”
“Well, I am frightened!” I searched his honeyed eyes for anything to protect me from the madness. “If they would plan my rape, they would plan my murder.”
“I won’t let it happen.”
But he let everything happen. He read my expression, and the truth slashed us both with regret, remorse, and despair.
I mourned the trust he’d never earn.
So did he.
“I have to stop this,” I said.
“If they suspect you know anything—”
“They’ll what? Inject me with fertility drugs? Force me to have sex with my three step-brothers? Let Darius beat me any time I try to fight? What else can they do to me?”
“Kill you.”
“Only if I don’t fight back.”
Our dance continued.
But my heart shattered.
The Bennetts didn’t know what happened when an Atwood was pushed past their limit.
Dad ignored me in favor of my brothers, but I inherited as much tenacity as Josiah or Mike. We would ring the sky for rain and tear through the earth to destroy any weed that strangled our crop.
The Bennett Corporation was the very definition of a weed. They were a coiling, tangling, worthless infection of rot that stole the sun from everything good and pure. They’d be ripped from the soil and cast in the heat to bake and wither.
Darius Bennett roamed the gala like a damned champion of charity and generosity. He was respected because of his name and status and where he sat in the board room.
I had surrendered to the Bennetts for long enough. Now it was my turn to take what I deserved. Justice wouldn’t cleanse my wounds. I demanded vengeance. I’d steal everything that was Darius’s and cast it into hell with him. And I knew just how to do it.
Roman Wescott.
I’d find him. Earn his vote. Secure the trust.
I’d free myself from my imprisonment.
Because I couldn’t depend on anyone else to do it for me.
“Good evening, everyone!” Reed took to the stage as the music ended. “I’m Reed Bennett, and I’d personally like to welcome you all to the 15th annual Bennett Foundation Charity Gala.”
The audience applauded. I stayed at Nicholas’s side, though I didn’t know if the ropes or his presence hurt me more.
“Just a little history for you guys,” Reed said. “My family started this charity when my brothers and I were children. I was eight years old when my mother was killed in a terrible car accident, and my brother and I were severely injured. Fortunately, my family is blessed with the resources to handle such traumatic events, including our numerous surgeries and long recovery.”
My chest tightened. What recovery? Darius subjected Reed to dozens of plastic surgeries to reduce the scarring to his face to preserve the Bennett image. Max should have lost his leg. Had his father been compassionate, he wouldn’t have lived in agony.
“Many families aren’t as fortunate as mine, and they need help to cover the costs of an unexpected emergency. The Bennett Foundation is in place to help those families focus on what’s important—healing, recovering, and getting children home where they belong.”
The gala clapped. Reed waved away the applause.
“Before we begin tonight, I have some good news to share,” he said. “The Foundation is pleased to announce we’ve already raised seven hundred thousand dollars, and our auction hasn’t even begun.”
Another applause, only this time, a man near the stage waved his hand.
“It’s for a good cause. I’ll give another ten thousand now!”
Reed winked. “What a totally generous and completely unplanted offer from Mr. Benjamin Hart.”
Another hand rose, this time a rugged, frightening man who didn’t belong in a tuxedo called out to Reed. “Fifteen thousand to my godson!”
Reed nodded. “And fifteen thousand from Tovial Aren, my godfather. Make sure you all bid on the Harley that Tovial and the Temple MC donated for the auction. This year, the bike actually has a VIN number!”
The gala laughed as Tovial curled a fist at his godson. Reed held up a hand to speak.
“In all seriousness. I’d like to thank our largest donors for their generosity. Of course, I have to recognize my father, Darius Bennett.”
The room exploded with applause. My stomach turned. He listed three other names, though only one dug into my mind like a bullet through my skull.
“Roman Wescott,” Reed announced. “You’ve always been a great supporter of this charity.”
The bindings either tightened or my asthma threatened me. Reed gestured to a photographer.
“Actually, if you all wouldn’t mind coming to the front for a picture.”
Two of the benefactors eagerly parted from their friends for a chance to gloat their generosity in the newspaper. Roman declined, though the cheers of the crowd pulled him from the back of the room.
My heart thunked with every step he took. Nicholas gripped my elbow.
“Don’t,” he warned. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t.”
“I’m not allowed to mingle?”
“No.”
“Your rule or your father’s?”
“Can’t it be both?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me.”
I meant it to hurt, but he was right. Neither of them would let me speak with the one investor who could award the Josmik Trust early. But if he didn’t see me now, Darius would stuff me into the limo and only the devil could predict what he’d do when I was imprisoned behind his walls once more.
I wasn’t waiting for Nicholas to earn his support. Not now. Not anymore.
This was my only opportunity.
I sucked in as deep a breath as the bindings allowed. My arm surged into the air.
“I’ll donate two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!”
The gala silenced.
Nicholas released me.
“Atwood Industries gives two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!”
“I…” Reed’s shock stole his confidence. What others would assume was excitement, I knew was dread. Because I felt it too. Darius’s prickling stare burned through me. “And two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from Sarah Atwood my, uh, supremely generous step-sister.”
The applause started stunned, but all attenti
on turned to me. I did as Dad taught and accepted their cheers with the grace inherent to the Atwoods.
Nicholas stiffened. His voice growled, low.
“Get up there before my father kills you,” he said. “Now.”
It was an expensive few minutes bought in the company of a man who had no idea the power he wielded, but I would have paid double for the chance. My billions were worth nothing if I was killed before I spent it. I endured the gossiped whispers and tucked between skirts to reach the stage.
Reed met me at the stairs, surveying the gala as though he expected open gunfire. And maybe he did. I leaned close as the charity’s benefactors slithered before a photographer.
“What the hell are you doing?” He whispered.
Hell if I knew, but I was going for it. “Can you see the ropes through the dress?”
“The what?”
I took that as a no and decided it was safe to take the picture. I slid beside Roman Wescott with a charming grin. The photographer worked quickly as the waltzes played and the crowds dispersed for the auction. Three flashes and we were done.
“Distract your father.” I ordered Reed. My heart ached. “And Nicholas.”
“Sarah, what’s going on?”
I didn’t answer. Roman thanked the photographer with a cordial formality. He didn’t linger, but that was fine. I hurried to his side before he returned to his associates at the bar.
“Mr. Wescott!”
He turned. His eyes hardened like chipping stone.
“Ms. Atwood.”
“Yes!” I held my hand out, reflexively, and offered as firm a handshake as Dad insisted a woman should have. “Yes, I’m Sarah Atwood.”
“A pleasure.”
It sounded more like a dismissal, but I wasn’t done. I hadn’t even started.
“I was hoping I could speak with you.”
“I apologize, but I don’t conduct business at social events.”
“My father taught me the same,” I said. He had Nicholas’s presence, but he seemed far older. “This will only take a moment. You had an agreement with my brothers.”
“Ms. Atwood, I’m not entirely sure we should discuss this matter here.”
It was true. I cast a glance over my shoulder. I didn’t see Darius, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see me.
“I understand. But Mr. Wescott, I want you to know that I am as serious about Atwood Industries and my family’s commitments as my brothers were.”
“Ms. Atwood, the Josmik Trust was not intended—”
“I realize it was not meant for my name, not intentionally. But, I assure you, I am uniquely qualified to assume the very same responsibilities my brothers’ anticipated in forming this arrangement.”
“I’m sure you are.” He raised a hand to silence me. “But this is neither the time nor place nor gathering to discuss such business.”
“I understand, but—”
“You are eager, Ms. Atwood. These past few months have been difficult on all parties.” He handed me his card. “We will set a meeting where we may talk without such discretion.”
It wouldn’t work. My stomach twisted. “My time is…limited. This might be our only moment to speak.”
“And I know what that moment would entail, which is why it will not be discussed here. The business you propose would transfer control of the Bennett Corporation to you. Your family wished to unseat Darius Bennett. It was the reason I agreed to the Josmik Trust.”
“Then you see why it’s so important. You understand the temperaments of the Bennett Board of Directors.”
“I do, and that’s why it’s foolish for you to meet with me.” He smiled as he spoke of my impending murder. “But I am curious now. Monday, Ms. Atwood. I’ll leave the day open. If you can keep the appointment…” If I survived until then. “…At least I’ll know my shares will be secure with someone cunning enough to earn them.”
He offered me a nod and returned to his associates. I memorized the address on the card and discarded it before I was caught with the evidence.
Monday.
It didn’t give me long to plan an escape, especially as Darius intended to inject me with the final fertility drug on Tuesday.
I was out of time. Darius and the board expected a pregnancy.
And when they didn’t get it?
I either surrendered my future to Darius, or he’d steal it from me. Both outcomes would end in blood, sweat, and terror.
But I would be the one victorious.
And I’d win, even if I had to use a Bennett as my sacrifice.
Reed’s lips trailed a gentle, soft path along my neck.
Timid shivers rocked me, centering low, just where he knew to tease, circle, and tempt.
We didn’t need the handcuffs, but I told him I thought it’d be…fun.
The lie sickened me, but it was my only chance to save myself. If I didn’t take the opportunity now, I doubted I’d have another in the future.
“You okay?” Reed’s lips warmed my neck, my blood, my shame. I nodded. He didn’t believe me. “You’re distracted.”
And it was hard to stay that way. I rested against Reed as his hands caressed my every exposed curve, vulnerable secret, and flushing heat.
“I’m okay.”
He frowned, the dimple lost in concentration. His hand brushed my cheek.
“What happened after the gala?”
“Nothing.”
“Sarah.”
Reed didn’t punish me with his strength like Max or dominate me with a possessive stare like Nicholas. When he held me, he cared.
Legitimately.
But underestimating him was more dangerous than giving Max a weapon or Nicholas my forsaken promise of surrender.
The blankets tangled under us, kicked as he dropped me on the bed, smacked me with a pillow, and seized me in his arms. He promised his suite was a safe place—clothing optional.
That made it so much harder.
To protect myself, I had to cut off the head of the snake ruling the family. But Darius didn’t bleed crimson. His heart pumped money, wealth, success. Stealing the Bennett Corporation from Darius would torture him more than a blade to the side or bullet in the chest.
Or pool cue to the ribs.
Fist to the temple.
Violent assault over his desk.
I trembled in memory as Reed wedged between my legs.
He saw it and made no effort to take what I had willingly given before. His voice softened.
“Did my father hurt you?” He traced the bruise under my breast. “Aside from…the ropes?”
“No.”
The answer surprised us both.
“That’s not like Dad.”
“I know.”
“Expensive risk.”
I grinned. “For a good cause.”
I didn’t say if it was the charity or upsetting Darius. Reed guessed.
“You think he’s up to something?” He asked.
I didn’t have to lie. “When isn’t he?”
Reed’s hand caressed my bare body, avoiding the tiny spot below my navel where the fertility injections had struck for the past ten days.
“You deserve better than this,” he said.
Maybe. Probably. I was getting there. “I’m okay.”
“Can I help?”
God, was I tempted. “Trust me. I have a plan that doesn’t involve a passport.”
“Wasn’t talking about leaving.”
He spread my legs, gazing over my soft, slickening folds.
“Let me take the fear away,” he whispered. “Just for a little while.”
His kiss centered on the part of me most desperate for his unique brand of kindness. The first lick flattened me against the bed. The next twist of his tongue earned my quiet murmur. The third, the knowing exploration of everything deep inside me, demanded my every attention.
Reed was as much a Bennett as Nicholas or Max. His dominance just manifested in different ways.
&nbs
p; He didn’t force.
He didn’t hurt.
But I was just as helpless against his aggression. He devoured me whole and sunk his tongue in to taste. Each pulsing tease of his lips curled over my sensitive clit. What had been abused by ropes healed within his caresses. My hips raised, pressing against his mouth.
He liked that. I liked that.
The handcuffs jiggled over my wrists as I arched in a quick and demanding excitement.
With great reluctance, Reed had admitted the restraints got him off. I wished I could be the one to help him explore that dark part of him, or that I could somehow reassure him. But the cuffs were the only chance I had to escape.
I twisted my hips, and the whimper came naturally.
The murmur was a dread I suppressed for the past three months. At least the flinch was honest, if not meant for someone far more frightening than Reed.
“Sarah?” Reed looked up as I jammed my wrists against the metal. “You okay?”
I nodded, too quickly. The handcuffs clattered. Reed didn’t wait for me to ask. He just knew.
Or thought he did.
“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry. Hold on.”
Reed unclasped the metal and tugged the cuffs off. I gave him a relieved shrug.
“This is why you have a safe word.” He knocked his forehead against mine. “I thought I could…I was curious…”
I hated lying to him. “I’m okay now.”
“Good.”
It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t have trusted anyone more than Reed while I was cuffed and immobile. Like all Bennetts, he got off on domination, but unlike the others, he deserved the submission.
I met his gaze with a coy bite to my lip. His eyebrow rose.
“What are you thinking?” He grinned.
“That you don’t need handcuffs to get what you’re after.”
“And what is that?”
Good question, even I wasn’t sure. “Obedience?”
He shrugged.
“My offered body?”
“Not a bad start.”
I glanced down, savoring the view of his cock, pulsing hard and impatient for attention.
“Pleasure?”
“Well, who doesn’t want that?”
I pushed him to the pillows, but Reed didn’t budge. He didn’t respond to a pout either, but a playful stroke of his cock did the trick.