While They Watch

by Sosie Frost

  No, it wasn’t.

  The estate was a prison.

  And an opportunity.

  I wasted enough time and almost lost my life in a foolish attempt to break free from the greatest gift I’d been given. I’d brave the asthma, Darius Bennett’s humiliations and beatings, and even Nicholas’s threatened kiss if only to find the evidence to pin my father’s death on the Bennetts.

  Sacrificing my body to protect my family?

  It was worth it.

  Tomorrow, we were going back.

  To war.

  11

  Nicholas

  My brothers slept in the hospital waiting room, iPads folded on their laps, unopened sodas and cold food scattered around their impromptu offices.

  I woke them without a greeting.

  “We need to alter our strategy.”

  Max blinked first. He cracked his neck and straightened his bad leg with a grunt. A soda can tumbled over, and Reed jerked awake.

  “She okay?” Reed asked. “Fuck, she didn’t talk, did she?”

  “She’s sleeping.”

  Max checked his watch and rubbed his face. “Want a break?”

  “No.”

  “You left her alone?”

  “Yes.”

  His expression twisted, a graveled grimace that might have warned me of dangerous ground had I not realized how deeply I already sunk into the mire.

  “Dad’s said not to leave her alone.”

  “Don’t worry about Sarah Atwood,” I said.

  Reed checked the doors before speaking, as though our father would dare to rest within a hospital for an Atwood’s benefit.

  “She’s got us by the balls, Nick,” he said. “Don’t give her the opportunity to ruin us.”

  “Oh, she’s trying to ruin us.” I claimed a seat across from my brothers, unable to hide my amusement. “She’s plotting her ways to topple the Bennett Corporation.”

  “Fantastic.” Reed rubbed his temples.

  Max wasn’t as threatened. “What’s a little kitten like her going to do?”

  “She’s going to prove our father murdered Mark Atwood.”

  My brothers silenced for a long moment before their laughter chorused within the waiting room.

  “And how’s she gonna prove that?” Max asked. “I didn’t know we were about to fuck Sherlock Holmes.”

  “She made me a deal.”

  “This outta be good.”

  I shrugged. “She returns to the estate willingly, and I help her gather evidence against Dad.”

  Max laughed again. “And the rape?”

  “Presumably, she’ll allow it to happen.”

  “What a little freak.”

  Reed shuddered. “Why would she let us do that? She knows we’ll…” His voice lowered. “We’re going to impregnate her. Why the hell would she surrender to something like that?”

  “She has her reasons.” I folded my hands. “I never said she wouldn’t be a challenge.”

  “Doesn’t make sense,” Reed said. “What does she have on us?”

  “Presumably nothing or she would have moved already.”

  Max didn’t buy it. “She’s smarter than that.”

  I nodded. “But she’s also impetuous. Naive. She’s a college undergrad, not a CEO. If we were battling Mark Atwood or his sons, the Bennett Corporation would face a significant threat. But Sarah Atwood is not her father or brothers. She’s little more than a child, and she’s too fraught with vengeance to understand how dangerous her circumstances are.”

  “So what are you planning?” Reed asked.

  “Just what I agreed to. I’ll help her find the evidence to prove her father was murdered.”

  “I don’t know what’s more frightening,” Max said. “The fact that we might get away with raping an innocent girl, or that you’ve lost your damn mind.”

  “This will work. She only needs to trust me.”

  “No. She just gotta spread her legs for you.”

  “Can’t have one without the other.”

  Max lived and dealt enough darkness. I recognized the growl in his voice, the unspoken intimidation he wielded. “Yes, we can. Dad won’t rest until that girl is broken, bruised, and sobbing.”

  And there was the fundamental difference between my father’s perspective on business and my vision for the future. He viewed Sarah Atwood with the same bloodthirsty aggression she reserved for our family—and it benefited no one. The Atwoods didn’t rival our corporation directly, but their influence within the agricultural industry could secure or frighten customers. No love was lost between our families, and I was pleased when Mark Atwood was buried in the soil he loved so much.

  But Sarah wasn’t an enemy.

  She was a tool.

  A newfound asset.

  And a liability, but all great opportunities came with substantial risk. The reward would be far more substantial than whatever problems the little field mouse created.

  My father planned to destroy the Atwoods and claim everything for our family.

  Sarah was worth more than a quick struggle and a nine month nightmare. A girl like her—with that determination and strength—wasn’t an adversary.

  She’d become an ally.

  My ally.

  Whether she realized it or not.

  My phone buzzed. Seven AM and business already started. I answered the call with a warm greeting.

  “Peter, how are you?”

  Reed furrowed his brow. He mouthed Peter’s name to Max with a shrug.

  Peter Handalan didn’t greet me with the same cordiality. He rarely offered pleasantries when discussing any business unless he pulled a minimum two over par on any course. Mid-June meant Peter toured the East Coast greens. I figured he had played a few hours before calling me.

  “Nicholas Bennett, I don’t know what stunt you’re pulling, but I swear to God, if this dips our stock in any way, shape, or form, I’ll pull every last share from your godforsaken company and invest in pharmaceuticals like I should have done ten years ago.”

  I braced for it. “I assure you, Peter. You’ll be glad you stayed with the Bennett Corporation just as soon as certain technicalities and all these…unpleasant details are sorted and finalized.”

  Reed extended his arms. I ignored his questions.

  “You want me to vote you in as the new CEO.”

  “I want the Board of Directors to initiate a vote of no confidence in my father, yes.”

  Reed bolted upright. Max grabbed a handful of his shirt and tossed him into the chair. I hoped Peter didn’t hear his profanity.

  “You’re playing a risky game. Since when do the Bennetts supersede their elders? The company is yours when Darius retires.”

  “Some members of the Board are displeased in the latest financials. They have been for over two years. Eight quarters of struggling growth concealed with layoffs, alternations in management, and product distribution. They’ve noticed, and they feel their investments are mismanaged.”

  Peter cackled. “Your family is cutthroat, but it doesn’t sniff for its own blood.”

  “My allegiance is to the company, Peter. Always has been, always will. I’ll work hard to ensure proper growth and new opportunities for prosperity.”

  “You’ve got Darius’s confidence.”

  “I have my own skills and abilities. This is the right move. I’m asking you for a pledge. A promise. Gentleman’s agreement, no contracts.”

  “So your father doesn’t sniff out a paper trail.”

  “Yes.”

  “This sort of change rattles a company, Nicholas. One false move and your stocks plummet and customer confidence takes a hit. Are you prepared for the fallout this will cause?”

  I paused. “The public and investors will be told my father took an early retirement. He was recently wed, perhaps he wants to spend time with his new wife and family. Maybe he wants to sail around the world. Climb Everest. The Bennett Corporation will salute his years of dedicated service, honor him as h
e wills, and then organize the transition to me. I’ve spent my life preparing for this opportunity, and the investors will feel confident in my abilities.”

  Max crossed his arms. Reed held his head in his hands.

  “I won’t be alone in this,” Peter warned. “You give me the names of the sons of bitches voting with me. Do you understand?”

  “Of course. I need to speak with one last board member to secure their allegiance, and this messy business will be done quickly, quietly, and effectively, with no disruption to the company or its everyday operations.”

  “I’m too old for this bullshit, Nicholas. I should be lying on a beach somewhere, getting my cock sucked by some cute Filipino and my yacht refurbished for my wife.”

  “This deal will guarantee it.”

  “Yeah.” Peter exhaled. I imagined him puffing a cigar as a golf cart puttered up the green. “I know you’re right. Wouldn’t want to be you though. Darius Bennett isn’t a forgiving man.”

  “But he is my father.”

  “For how much longer?” Peter swore. “You get me those names, and we’ll talk again.”

  The call ended as Peter cackled to his partner about a ball shanked hard to the left. I pocketed my phone. Reed started to laugh, bending over to catch his breath as Max raged at his side.

  “What in the everloving fuck are you doing?” Reed said. “Holy shit, man, you didn’t even tell us.”

  “I figured I had your support.”

  “For a takeover?”

  Was my brother that naive? “Our profits are failing. Our investors are bolting. Dad is kidnapping and raping women. Is that the man you want controlling our future? Our wealth?”

  “You don’t have to tell me that Dad lost his goddamned mind,” Reed said. “That happened years ago. But, Jesus Christ. He’s going to find out what you’re doing. Then I’ll be chasing you down on a bike with the tire iron.”

  I wasn’t worried. “He’s a bit preoccupied with our house guest at the moment.”

  “It won’t work. Sarah’s nothing to him.”

  “She’s everything to him,” I said. “He’s obsessed with her, her family, with what Mark Atwood’s will unintentionally promised us. He isn’t watching the Bennett Corporation. He’s thinking about what we are going to lose a year from now. Right now he’s planning how he’ll finagle his way into being named regent of a stolen empire.”

  Reed shrugged. “How does this protect Sarah?”

  Max answered for me. “It doesn’t.”

  “If Nick seizes control of the company—”

  “That will take months,” Max said. “You’re missing the point. This has nothing to do with Sarah. We can’t protect the girl.”

  Reed wasn’t often angry. His voice lowered. Even Mom’s green eyes couldn’t dull the intensity and indignation that scarred us all as our father’s sons.

  “I don’t care what you say, I don’t care about Dad. I am not hurting that girl. I’ve done a lot of sketchy shit for this family, but rape isn’t one of them, and I’m not impregnating someone by force so my child can be manipulated for our gain. That’s two lives I fuck over. It’s not happening.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “Which is why we are changing strategy involving the girl.”

  Max rifled through his laptop bag and swallowed a handful of pain-killers. “Are we letting her go?”

  “No.”

  “You want to keep her.”

  Like he hadn’t had the same fantasy. “Very much.”

  Reed scowled. “So you can rape her?”

  “No. I plan to seduce her.”

  He laughed. “You’re fucked in the head. Why the hell would she fall for you?”

  “Because I’m a Bennett. I have land. I have our business. I have our wealth…” I shrugged. “And I have my pick of the women.”

  “This isn’t a woman. She’s an Atwood.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “Who better to seduce? Who better to have willingly spread her legs and offer me every part of her? I will seduce, bed, and take Mark Atwood’s daughter as my own—a beautiful toy for my amusement.”

  Max perked an eyebrow. “Since when do you like that type of toy?”

  I answered honestly. “Since the first time I saw her.”

  Reed tilted his head. “What makes you think you’re the only one who’ll have her?”

  “I’ll speak with Dad and convince him to let me have her to myself. Save her the indignity of serving three men in favor of submitting completely to me.”

  “What a hero,” he snorted. “Steal the company, rape the girl.”

  “Experience the girl.”

  Reed and Max fell silent. I expected it. They didn’t understand the gift that we nearly lost, the beauty nearly taken from the world.

  I saw through her rage, the shattering shell of her confidence, the strength she bluffed and the simmering hate she wielded as an ineffective shield.

  Beneath her admirable resilience hid a passionate woman, imprisoned more by her own hesitance than any chains and ropes I might have used to restrain her.

  Sarah Atwood wanted me.

  And I’d ensure that fatal mistake would ruin her with pleasure.

  12

  Sarah

  It was a mistake returning to the Bennett estate.

  The creeping stone mansion spilled into the otherwise pristine forest. The dark manor loomed within the shadows and spoiled the vibrant green of the mountain with its splashes of crimson and white blossoming flowers. It didn’t belong here.

  It was nothing more than a trap. Worse, I set the snare myself.

  Nicholas carried me through the threshold. I ignored the implication and braced myself for whatever I would find inside.

  The manor and everything it encompassed etched from unforgiving stone. The foyer. The columns. Even the men. They hardened themselves for endurance and intimidation, chiseling flecks of their humanity into dust. Nothing soft or kind existed in their world.

  I needed to rest before I could defend myself from them.

  Darius Bennett met us on the grand staircase, positioned exactly where I took my last full breath and begged his heir for help.

  I wiggled from Nicholas’s arms.

  “Welcome home, my dear.” He held a bag of my prescriptions and twisted it within his hand. “You look moments from death.”

  That I believed. Anger kept me on my feet. The pinpricks of hatred jammed into the base of my skull, but I said nothing, only stared at the bag that contained my rescue inhaler.

  I anticipated this cruelty.

  “If you want your medications, you’ll ask for permission first.” He waited for an ill-advised profanity. It wasn’t worth the risk. “I trust we can come to an arrangement. I’d hate to see you in such pain again, my dear.”

  He hated that it wasn’t a pain he caused. I didn’t waste a word on him.

  “I’ll carry them,” Nicholas said. “She’s my charge at the moment.”

  Darius chuckled. “I know an excellent way for her to earn the medications, son.”

  Bastards. They could keep the meds.

  Darius thought he could frighten me, that I wouldn’t dare climb the steps he guarded. I stormed forward, but Nicholas grasped my hand.

  His touch somehow relieved me. My strides weakened the instant we passed from Darius’s view. I panted, slowing as Nicholas guided me into the depths of the house. The hall ended with steel doors, and he pushed a button to reveal an elevator.

  “I can walk.” It took two breaths to finish the sentence.

  Nicholas tucked the prescriptions into his suit pocket. “Don’t mistake pride for strength, Sarah. We should never have taken you from the hospital so quickly. You need to rest.”

  We rode to the third floor, and my stomach twisted. That area belonged to my step-brothers, each claiming their own wing for privacy. My fingers tightened over the railing.

  They wouldn’t dare try to violate me. Not when I was sick.

  Then again, I had no
strength to fight them.

  “You’re safe for now,” Nicholas said.

  Was I that easy to read? “Why should I believe you?”

  His eyes burned a bit brighter, the gold hues crisp and demanding. I wished I hadn’t noticed.

  He led me through the east wing and rapped against the doorframe to a darkened room. The lights flared.

  Of course the Bennetts had a private theater.

  The room furnished with amphitheater styled seating, oversized leather chairs, and a screen the size of our barn doors. Max stood as we entered. Reed munched on popcorn made from the actual popcorn cart still spitting fresh kernels.

  “Welcome to my sanctuary.” Max waved over the wall-to-wall cherry cabinets which completely encased the room. The theater was dark, cozy, and housed a variety of liquors and snacks. He didn’t share Reed’s smile, but I swore he softened his voice when I edged closer to Nicholas. “You can use it while you recover.”

  “Oh, but—”

  Max didn’t let me answer. He flipped open a cabinet door.

  If Heaven had existed, this was it.

  “I lost count after a couple thousand movies.” He pulled out a selection and showed me the titles. Action, comedy, foreign, classic. “Whatever you like, it’s probably here.”

  Reed waved to a cabinet. “Playstation, Xbox, and Wii down there too.”

  Nicholas guided me to a recliner close to the screen, complete with fuzzy blanket, headphones, and a set of pink pajamas.

  My stomach twisted. How did they get my favorite pajamas from my room at home?

  “The doctor is coming at noon,” Nicholas said. “You should be resting when he gets here.”

  I studied the offering with a guarded suspicion. What were they planning?

  Popcorn?

  Movies?

  Games?

  I hated myself for envying the setup.

  I hated myself more for considering their gift.

  How long was it since I let myself watch a movie? I always had too many classes and meetings and funerals and sharp objects to hide from my mother.

  Once the farm and company unceremoniously fell into my lap, I’d been consumed by work and email, schedules and classes, reports and P&Ls. When my asthma flared and I was forced to bed on a bad day, I still had classwork to finish and paperwork to sign. My recovery days became opportunities to conference call with Anthony about legal matters.