Trouble

by Colet Abedi

  I think about Wylder for a moment. I hope she’s having a good time. That’s all that matters to me. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about her safety because given the nature of the club, all members must go through a rigorous background check. And there are cameras everywhere in case someone tries anything unwanted.

  Security and privacy are the two cardinal rules here.

  Someone is always watching.

  I make my ritualistic pilgrimage to a room tucked away in the back of the second floor. It’s a door I’ve been obsessed with every single time I’ve come to the club. It’s different from every other door. While the others are simple dark wood with golden handles, this one is made of onyx tiles, and it goes from the floor to the ceiling, with a large gold handle in the shape of a serpent. It’s an incredible piece and probably worth a small fortune.

  I’d bet my life that the room behind it is equally impressive.

  I’ve been to this door every single time I’ve come to the club, and I’ve never been allowed in. I’ve tried, but it’s always locked.

  And I’ve gotten farther than most.

  I’ve seen other people stopped by security when they come too close, even after I was able to walk right up to the door and try the handle. What’s even more peculiar is I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone actually go inside the room.

  To be fair, I’m not here all the time, and my visits have been more infrequent since I began my job as a studio intern—the hours are crazy—but still…

  I stare at the door for a long minute before I rub my hand down the handle as if it’s something sacred, some sort of genie lamp that will grant all my wishes. Then I push, expecting it to stay closed, but—

  Holy.

  Shit.

  Something is different tonight.

  Chapter Two

  Trouble

  I watch the door slowly open.

  Kerri Harrington and I have a date with destiny.

  And the time has finally come.

  From this moment on, Kerri’s life will never be the same, and neither will mine for that matter.

  I’ve been planning for this for as long as I can remember. It feels as though it’s all I have ever known. But that’s the thing with revenge. It tends to consume and drive you until it’s the one thing you see, eat, breathe, and even fuck.

  I settle back into my chair, deliberately concealed by the darkness, and watch the way she gracefully moves through the room.

  My cock responds to her, and I hate it. But I’m a man with a healthy appetite and she’s stunning; I’ll give her that. To be fair, she’s drop-dead gorgeous.

  I’d like to fuck the princess out of her…teach her a thing or two about life. To be humble. To know what real power is. To feel a real cock between those long legs of hers. To make her come and come again.

  And again.

  Until there’s nothing else she thinks about but fucking me.

  I want to ruin her in every way.

  And I will.

  All in due time.

  I continue my lazy perusal. She’s in shock. I can see that. The way her hand moves with a slight tremble to touch her neck, the subtle gasp that someone who hasn’t studied her for years would miss…

  But I know everything I can about Kerri, every detail my men could collect over the years. I think I might even know Kerri Harrington better than I know myself.

  Her favorite color is blue. I know she’s strict with her diet and takes care of her body, but she has a weakness for pizza and sugar when she’s stressed out. I know she hero-worships her father, basking gluttonously in his unabashed adoration of her and the hundreds of ways he likes to spoil her. She’s loyal and loves her best friend, Wylder, like family, would do anything for her—or anyone she considers a friend for that matter. She likes to read. Her favorite genre? Biographies, especially ones about powerful female rulers.

  She loves to travel, as though she always seems to be running from something…or someone. Sometimes I think she knows I’m watching her, that she’s trying to hide from me, but there’s no place she could go where I couldn’t find her. She’s generally close to her family, especially her brother Colt, but she doesn’t share everything with him, and he doesn’t know her secrets.

  I’m the only one who knows those. I know what makes her tick. How bored she gets with people. How she constantly needs to stimulate herself because whatever is going on in that head of hers will consume her if she doesn’t stay busy.

  I know this room appeals to her in a way no other part of the club does—because she likes to watch.

  Just as I like to watch her.

  The room is made for someone like Kerri—a voyeur. It’s simple but expensively equipped. One of the large walls holds a dozen television monitors showing different areas of the club. There are cameras everywhere, speakers even, to listen in on conversations if I so choose. In the center of the room rests a large, custom-made black leather couch that envelops a matching ottoman. Besides the chair I’m sitting in, it’s the only furniture in the room.

  The main attraction though is the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the center of the club. It’s quite a show, and the window is for my viewing pleasure and mine alone. I can watch everything happening in the center area—the human stage, as I like to call it—but for whoever is on the dance floor looking up, it resembles a dark wall.

  This is my private den.

  No woman has ever been allowed in this space.

  Until now.

  Until her.

  It sounds romantic, but this is not a love story.

  Our story will be one of loss, pain, and revenge.

  I have watched Kerri since she was sixteen years old. I have silently plotted, waiting in the shadows, biding my time, planning my assault on her senses—on her very existence—learning everything about who she is.

  The things that bring her pleasure.

  Pain.

  It’s a plan Machiavelli himself would approve of: this plot to avenge my sister’s death. I’ve waited for this moment for what seems like a lifetime.

  And now I’m ready for the game to officially begin.

  Trouble is coming her way.

  I watch my enemy’s daughter take in the room I know she’s been fantasizing about for years, and I can see she’s in awe. She walks gracefully toward the window, her lithe body a beautiful silhouette for my viewing pleasure. She has natural grace, the way she holds herself. Her head held high commanding attention, as though she’s better than the rest of us. No doubt the princess’s privileged upbringing instilled that notion in her bones.

  I’ll be the one to rid her of it.

  I take my time and study her body. She might walk like the finest of ladies, but she sure as hell isn’t dressed like one. Her skimpy blue dress leaves little to the imagination and isn’t my taste at all, but I’ve never liked the way she dresses in this club. Even though I hate myself for it, I see red when I watch the way men ogle and eye-fuck her.

  I’m a possessive man with singular tastes. And believe it or not, given the nature of this club I own, I’m fairly conservative. I don’t like my women flaunting their bodies to the general public. What’s mine is for me to see and enjoy, not the world.

  But then, Kerri’s not mine.

  Nor will she ever be.

  She is only a tool I’ve been waiting to use against her father for many years, to unleash my fury for my sister’s death.

  Jonathan Harrington will finally feel pain in a way I haven’t yet hit him with. His beloved daughter, the light of his life—the only person I believe he truly loves—will become my greatest weapon against him because the bastard will pay.

  Ten years ago, Jonathan Harrington had an affair with my baby sister.

  She was only nineteen.

  Tanya was pure, innocent, an angel. She was the only real family member I had left after our parents died in a car accident when I was thirteen. She was everything to me, and I would have died for her, done anything for
her.

  Harrington lied to her, told her he was a widower and pursued her until she fell in love with him. Their affair lasted a little over a year. Jonathan, the billionaire, showered my sister with everything her heart desired, spoiled her rotten, worshipped her…until she became pregnant.

  Then he convinced her to get an abortion, told her it was too soon and they had all the time in the world. Even though it went against everything my sister believed, she reluctantly complied. She did it for him, to make him happy.

  To keep him happy.

  But men like Jonathan are never satisfied. One woman is never enough.

  As for my sister, she changed. Tanya was never the same afterward. She lived in anguish over the decision she had been coerced into making, and it became even worse when she found out he was married, had a family in Bel Air, and had been lying to her all along. Tanya confronted him, and instead of begging for forgiveness, Harrington abruptly ended their affair, afraid his wife and family might find out.

  As a parting gift, he bought her an expensive condo in the city, but to Tanya, that was like a slap in the face. He was only adding insult to injury. The gift made her feel cheap and sent her down a spiral of darkness and self-hate. She felt as though he was trying to pay her off for their lost child, and the gift that Harrington thought was so generous killed something inside her even more.

  Because she did love him. The bastard. She loved him. Tanya told me many, many times how much he meant to her, even with all his faults.

  He didn’t deserve to touch a hair on her head.

  He didn’t deserve to share oxygen with her.

  He didn’t deserve any part of her.

  I will never forget the day Tanya killed herself.

  After years of working my ass off, I had finally made a financial windfall in my start-up company, a ride-share app. I called my sister to tell her the news, to assure her how much our lives—her life—would be better, that I would take care of her no matter what. I remember every part of our conversation. We spoke at length about the future. I was so excited about the endless possibilities, the stability I could finally give her. The peace of knowing she would be okay, taken care of, no matter what.

  I thought I had put her at ease.

  She congratulated me over and over, telling me how proud she was, how happy for me. Tanya knew how hard I had worked on the company and how much I had sacrificed to make it successful for both of us. We had been robbed of so much, way too soon. Our parents’ deaths were devastating both emotionally and financially. This would at the very least finally give us some peace.

  Afterward, I realized she had given me so many signals. The words she used to talk about the future—my future…

  But afterward was too late.

  When we ended our call, Tanya jumped off a thirty-story building.

  When they called me, my world shattered. In that one moment, everything changed. There was the Ian before Tanya’s death, and there is the Ian now.

  Revenge is the singular motivation that drives me. I will have it at any cost.

  Just thinking about my sister’s death makes my blood boil, and I focus back on the task at hand.

  Kerri is only a weapon.

  A beautiful weapon.

  I watch her place her hand on the window and stare at the crowd. Her profile is flawless. If she wanted, she could have easily been a successful model. Instead, she interns for next to nothing at a Hollywood studio, working long hours and suffering through agent and talent temper tantrums.

  She’s quite an anomaly, I’ll give her that.

  I lazily look her over, taking in every curve, lingering on her full breasts and beautiful ass. Her skin looks like silk and staring at her is easy to do. She bites her lip, and I hate that I burn for her, that my cock responds to one single gesture.

  I hate that she does something to my blood. That I want her…badly.

  Fuck it.

  I think it’s time we meet.

  “No hands on the glass unless I’m fucking you from behind.”

  Kerri jumps and spins around. Her eyes narrow as she peers into the darkness concealing me. Knowing she can’t see my face but I can see every inch of hers brings me great satisfaction. I designed the room this way.

  For this day.

  She takes a hesitant step toward me. Not just yet, princess.

  “Not another step.”

  My voice has enough authority that she does as I say, but from everything I know about her, she won’t stand still for long.

  “If you want to stay in this room, you do as I say,” I state and watch her shuffle uncomfortably. I’m making her nervous and I know that doesn’t happen often, if ever.

  “Says who?” she bites back.

  “Me.”

  “And who are you?”

  “You don’t get to ask any questions.”

  I can tell she doesn’t like that.

  She scoffs. “Did I miss something in the club manual? Who says I can’t ask a question? This place is about satisfaction and pleasure.”

  “I say.” My voice is hard. “And it’s not only about satisfaction and pleasure. It’s about rules. Mine.”

  “Your rules?” She sounds amused.

  I’m not used to being questioned in this club or out. I need her to understand that all the power is with me.

  “Beauty, this is my world you’re living in,” I tell her with a great deal of satisfaction. “My rules. My way. It’s actually very simple.”

  She arches a perfect brow. “You sound like a spoiled child.”

  “I’m a man who gets exactly what he wants.” And I’m unapologetic about it. “When I want. And how I want.”

  When she remains quiet, I push.

  “Do you want to play my way or not?”

  Kerri raises her chin. “What sort of game do you have in mind?”

  She’s brave, I’ll give her that. I want to test her to see how far I can go.

  “Cat and mouse.”

  Her face flushes. She looks surprised and, for a rare moment, completely unsure. I can’t stop myself from feeling a tinge of compassion, but I kill the emotion. She is a means to an end. A tool. My enemy’s daughter.

  And that is all.

  “How do you play cat and mouse?” she asks, her voice soft.

  My cock hardens. I’m intrigued. “How do you like to play it?”

  All of a sudden, she looks shy. Her eyes flicker downward, as if she’s completely unsure, then she glances back at me.

  I place my hand on my knee and lean forward. I feel like she can see me through the darkness.

  “Tell me.” I command.

  “I watch,” she admits in a whisper. “I only watch.”

  Her answer throws me even though I know she’s telling me the truth. I’ve watched her every interaction at this club.

  Two men. She’s allowed two men to put their hands on her, and both times occurred when I wasn’t here. Even though I hate to admit it, I’ve never felt such possessive fury as I did when I reviewed the video footage and saw her lips on another man. Both times caused me to fuck my way through a line of women who were Kerri lookalikes. No, I don’t want to analyze why.

  But I’m surprised she’s admitting to her lack of participation here, especially to a stranger. For some reason, I want to rattle that perfectly composed cage of hers some more.

  “Interesting,” I say teasingly. “You strike me as a different type of woman.”

  “What type would that be?”

  I’m careful with the word I use. “Adventurous.”

  “When and if I choose to be.” There’s a definite edge to her voice.

  I lean back in my chair wanting to rattle that cool cage of hers some more. “What do you base your decision on?”

  “I’ll tell you the next time it happens.”

  I don’t think so, sweetheart. “That’s no fun.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Then how are we going to play together?” I say, w
ondering out loud, then decide to push her even more. “I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  I wait a second before I ask, “Can I buy you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Pay for play.” I can’t help but smile at the look of indignation on her face.

  “No, you definitely cannot buy me.” She tries to sound cool, but I know she’s seething. Unfortunately, she makes a fatal mistake. “And trust me, you’d never be able to afford my price.”

  Oh, princess. You’re in way over your head.

  “How much?” I’m curious.

  She cocks her head, looking at me as if she holds all the power in the world. My breath lodges in my throat. She’s fucking beautiful.

  I almost hate her for it.

  “How much do you have to your name?”

  Brat.

  “Enough.”

  She loses her smile. “I find this conversation boring. I’m not for sale.”

  She moves toward me, then thinks better of it and stops, but not before I’m hit by that sweet smell of hers, like a perfect, fresh spring day. The kind you want to lose yourself in…

  The kind that’s too good to be true.

  It’s bombarding my fucking senses. I lean back in my chair and let my gaze glide over her body again. I need to get a goddamn grip.

  Kerri’s peering at me in the darkness, her look surprisingly confident.

  I respect her for that. Not being able to see whom she’s talking to must be unnerving for her. Even though I know she’s confident as hell, I’m impressed she’s held herself so well. “Then how do you want to do this, little mouse?”

  She’s back to looking unsure again. “I should leave.”

  She doesn’t sound as though she wants to. I like that.

  “I think you and I both know you’re not going anywhere.”

  I decide it’s time to rock her world.

  “Kerri.”

  Chapter Three

  Kerri

  “How do you know my name?”

  I sure as hell hope he can’t hear the slight tremble in my voice, but holy fuck. How does this guy know my name?