by Vanna King
I grin wider. “You just ran away from your wedding,” I say, relishing the fact. Man, that was a joy to watch, her running away like an angel in flight. All white and so beautiful.
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”
“Liar.”
She glares at me harder.
I can’t help gloating about it. “You don’t want me dead, hmm? I bet you’re going to cry if I die. You’re going to miss me so badly. Nobody’s going to fuck you the way I do anymore.”
She throws the phone at me. I try to avoid it but it hits my shoulder, and I don’t mind. I’m so fucking happy I want to open the limo’s sunroof and shout to the wind.
Her arms are folded across her chest, looking out the window, trying to ignore me. I want to fuck her again so badly. I’m amazed how much I want her now more than ever. Now that I have her, I’ll never let her go.
I settle back in my seat, curbing my libido. I just had her almost an hour ago. Fuck, my cock has become an insatiable beast for this goddess. But there will be plenty of time for that once I have her aboard the jet.
I watch her quietly. I know her mind is working on overdrive. But she won’t be able to hold her tongue for long. It’s not in her nature to be submissive. I’ll have to accept that now, that she’s different from the others, that I can’t tie her up and subdue her spirit, and that it will kill me to extinguish her fire. I’m addicted to it already. I’ve become her slave. Fuck, forbid that she’d ever realizes that.
She’s biting her lower lip. My poor baby is scared. She probably got disowned by her folks today. Those avaricious people she calls parents are nothing but opportunists who would stop at nothing to get what they want, including selling their own daughter for more opportunities. I don’t care if they’re Spencers and their name is synonymous to the Kennedys. I fucking hate their guts. I don’t regret severing her ties from those greedy power-hungry vultures. They can’t touch her now. They won’t even dare. She’s got nothing to be scared about. I’ll take care of her.
“So how do you think this is going to work between us?”
I smile. That didn’t take long. Her saucy tongue is too hot to stay silent. I want that tongue talking to my cock in the coming days. Months. Years.
“It’s going to work.”
“Because you say so?” she scoffs.
“Yeah.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“What will I do in Vegas?”
“Whatever your heart desires, my goddess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But you are. My goddess.”
“Prove it.”
I become still. No woman has ever put me in this position, where I have to prove anything to her, except what I want to. But the words leave my lips. “Tell me what you want.”
“Let me go.”
“Anything but that.”
“Then you’re no better than Bill.”
“Don’t compare me to that douchebag.”
“You’re worse than him.”
Fuck, she can test my temper.
She turns to her side, lying her head on the headrest. She tries to hide it, but her tears finally escape. She wipes her face angrily with her hands.
This is a new territory for me. I’ve never been in a serious relationship. Yes, this I serious, alright. I don’t have a clue how to deal with an emotional woman.
“Leigh,“ I start again.
“Don’t!” she suddenly snarls at me, her eyes blazing, anguished. “Don’t tell me what I want or need because you don’t know shit what they are.”
“What about thanking me for saving you from marrying Peyton? I know you didn’t love him or you wouldn’t have given yourself to me.”
“What do you know about love? Have you loved someone deep enough that you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness for them?”
I swallow. Her words hit me hard, shutting me up.
“I love my parents. They were the only people who cared about me when I was a baby thrown in a dumpster by my mother who didn’t want me. I didn’t know who my father was. I was quite the news on TV you know, this baby found by a homeless woman while she was scouring for food in a dumpster. She brought me to the police, and they took me to a foster home. I was sick for weeks and almost died. Mr. and Mrs. Spencer visited the foster home and saw me. They took me, adopted me as their own, raised me with love and care. So what if they emotionally blackmailed me to marry Bill? I was old enough to decide. I wanted to help my parents. I owe them. They’re not perfect, but they’re all I’ve got. It’s called loyalty. Blind you might say, but I would do anything for them. That’s real love. And I was going to do it but you showed up and ruined everything. Yes, damn you, you made me change my mind at the last minute! Now, I don’t have parents! I’m all alone again. I hope that makes you so happy.”
Her words hit me like bludgeons to my heart.
“Leigh…I understand—”
“Shut up! You know nothing about how I feel! Nothing!”
She closes her eyes tightly, shutting me out, tears leaking down her cheeks.
I stare at her helplessly.
LEIGH
I look at the huge jet waiting for us on the tarmac.
“Is that my transport to the Vegas penitentiary?”
Bron nods, his eyes hooded. He’s been quiet after my outburst in the limo. That was a tad dramatic, but I don’t care what he thinks. I don’t expect him to understand. He’s my new jailer, anyway.
But I’m only here because I fucking love him. Yes, I didn’t want him dead. Or hurt. In any way.
“Not bad. I need a fucking drink.” God, the F-bomb has become my mouth’s favorite word, thanks to that bastard.
I walk ahead of him toward the plane. An attendant greets me at the foot of the stairs. I nod and clamber up. My gown gets snagged somewhere. I yank it roughly, tearing the hem. I cuss again.
Another attendant greets me as I enter the plane.
“Where’s the fucking cabin?” I demand like a bitch. The attendant is taken aback. I don’t care. She’s a fucking jail guard of this plane, too.
She recovers from the shock and graciously guides me toward the rear of the biggest private plane I’ve ever seen. But the grandness is lost on me. This is a gilded cage. Well, until I can escape. But I can hardly do that on air. I’ll wait for the perfect time to run away from this tyrannical bastard again. The next time, he won’t ever find me.
I want a life. A real life. I’m done getting controlled by men, no matter how much I love or care for them. First my father, then Bill, then this bastard who happens to be the greatest lover I’ll probably ever have. But that’s beside the point. He’s not the right man for me.
I will decide who to be with from now on. Not anybody. Certainly not that devil who unfortunately owns my heart.
“Here we are, miss,” the flight attendant opens the cabin door for me.
“Thanks. Please, bring me a bottle of champagne,” I ask in a nicer tone.
“Yes, miss.”
I enter and close the door, locking it.
BRON
I’m tempted to kick the door down just to show her who’s fucking boss. The little witch locked me out. She thinks she can do this to me and suffer no consequences?
I inhale deeply and settle onto one of the reclining seats within the lounge right beside the cabin.
The jet is readying for take-off.
I ask the attendant to bring me some whiskey.
Patience hasn’t been one of my valuable virtues since I became a legitimate member of the Gabrielli Family. When things get done quickly on your behalf without so much as lifting a finger, you get used to it, the express delivery. But I’m beginning to embrace it again. Patience.
I can’t forget her tearful face as she lectured me about love and loyalty. God, she was magnificent. I have no doubt she will accord me the same love and loyalty as she did her parents. Or even more. And I want to deserve
it. I want to be worthy of her.
I command my boner to calm the fuck down. We’re not getting any till Vegas. Not that it’s listening to me. I hurt. I want to touch her so badly, even just hold her in my arms. But I know she won’t let me, not in her current disposition.
This is going to be the longest flight of my life.
I sigh. I might as well do something to make that princess happy so she’d gladly polish my sword with her cream when we get back to our little kingdom.
I hope.
I shake my head. I hope. That’s a far cry from my notorious three moves.
I fish out my phone.
Chapter Fourteen
LEIGH
I’m back in his penthouse.
I’m surprised that I actually missed this place. It feels like I’ve never left. My cheeks heat up as hot flashbacks of what we did in almost every corner of this place pop up in full color.
“You take a rest. If you need anything, food, personal effects, anything, Dial 7. The hotel staff will personally attend to you. I’ll be out for a couple of hours. I’ll come pick you up at nine in the evening. Dress up. We’ll be meeting some people.”
“Is that an order?” I ask, my tone sarcastic, my back to him.
He doesn’t answer. I feel his footsteps quietly moving away. When I look behind me, he’s gone.
I sigh and look around me. I took a nap on the plane, so my energy’s up. Bron didn’t even attempt to get into the cabin with me. He let me have some privacy, for which I was thankful. We hardly spoke to each other since we left the McCarran airport and boarded a limo going here to the hotel.
What am I going to do now?
I walk to the main door and carefully open it, peeping outside. The foyer is deserted. Slowly, I approach the elevator. I punch the ‘down’ button.
Nothing happens.
I punch it again.
Nothing.
I make a disgruntled sound. The bastard has locked me in!
I march back to the penthouse, going to the balcony.
Fresh air greets me. The city is coming alive now. Lights are setting the Strip on fire. It’s going to be breathtaking as the night progresses. Vegas is enchanting. I’m in the most exciting city. I should be lapping it up like an adventurer. Except I’m a prisoner.
Tears prick the back of my eyes again.
I just escaped one prison, only to walk into another one.
After taking a shower, I realize I don’t have anything else to wear. He’s kidnapped me and I haven’t brought anything with me. I don’t even have my phone. Maybe I’ll Dial 7 for clothes.
Or maybe I can borrow one of his shirts or something.
I decide to investigate Bron’s walk-in closet attached to the huge bathroom. The closet, I found out the last time I was here, is a whole new separate room that can fit my entire bedroom at home. It’s a posh men’s boutique recreated here. I grew up in an affluent environment, but this is how the really loaded live. Luxurious. Extravagant. His penthouse is fit for royalty. Which he probably is, in Vegas, anyway. Not that I fucking care.
I open the frosted glass double-door and gasp.
I immediately see a red dress hanging from a stand. It’s exquisite. I love it on sight. I know it’s for me.
More dresses on racks. I check out the labels. Designers. French and Italian. All of it. They are all my sizes, too. And shoes. Bags. Makeup. Perfumes. Lingerie.
I feel like an expensive mistress now. Very expensive.
I lift my hand to stare at the ring he gave me.
Marry him?
I shake my head. I can never forget the five women from last time. I won’t become another Stepford wife in Vegas kept in a tower by a ruthless king while he indulges in a harem somewhere.
At least with Bill, our contract guaranteed fidelity. With Bron, I know I don’t have any power at all to make any bargain. He will control everything.
I take the red dress from the hanger and put it on. It flatters my best assets but in an elegant way. I work on my hair and face.
Several minutes later, I walk out of the room to wait for him.
If he thinks he can lock me up here while he does his business elsewhere, he’s dreaming.
I will play his game, then beat him at it.
He comes back at fifteen before nine.
I’m on the balcony, staring at the blazing man-made galaxy below. This building is higher than the rest.
His eyes rake me. I don’t move from the railing to greet him.
“Leigh…” he calls out to me.
I don’t even look at him.
“Enjoying the view?”
I glance at him then, giving him a wan smile. “It’s a long way down…and I don’t have Rapunzel’s hair. No one’s going to rescue me from this tower.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, his expression impassive, but his dark eyes are glistening with an emotion I can’t define. He’s very hard to read.
“No.”
“Me neither. We’ll eat in my restaurant.”
He disappears into the penthouse. Five minutes later, he comes out again, wearing a different suit. “Ready?”
I move from the railing, stepping toward him. “So, who are these special guests of yours that need to be graced by my vapid company?” I can’t help being snarky.
“You’ll see. Let’s go.”
He escorts me back into the penthouse, putting his hand lightly on the small of my back. His woodsy cologne tantalizes my nose. Dammit, why does he need to smell good all the time?
I hate him, but his distance is irritating me. I’m used to him always hot for me like he can’t keep his hands off of me even for a minute. He hadn’t touched me once since we left the airport this afternoon, except to assist me out of the limo.
God, my thoughts are shameful. The man is holding me here against my will, and I want him to touch me.
We reach the elevator. He punches the ‘down’ button. The doors slide to the sides.
“Is that fingerprint activated?” I can’t help asking.
“Yes.”
“So, you’re gonna keep me a prisoner here,” I state as we enter the car.
The doors close.
“No, Leigh,” he answers softly.
“Why won’t they open for me then?”
“Because I didn’t want you to leave before we can even give it a try.”
“Give it a try. Funny, that. A person must be truly free to give it a try.”
Silence.
“Is being with me so disgusting to you?” he asks softly.
I don’t answer. I want to say yes, but I can’t bring myself to because it will be half a lie. I can’t deny it to myself. I love him. God, I do. But this love is destructive. It will eat me up whole, and I will lose myself completely.
“After this meeting, you’re free to decide. I won’t stop you if you still want to leave,” he mutters quietly.
I’m shocked. His eyes are dark and intense, and I see a vulnerability there that I’ve never seen before.
“I promise, Leigh.”
We enter the restaurant. It’s one of the best in the country. Very pricey. I’ve dined with my parents in the Chicago branch several times. I didn’t even know Bron owned it.
The maitre d escorts us into a private section that has the best view of the Strip. It’s breathtaking.
Then I get another shock of my life.
My parents stand up from their seats.
It looks like they’ve been waiting for us.
“M-mom? Dad?”
“Honey!” My mother rushes to hug me.
Confused, I glance at Bron, but he’s busy shaking my Dad’s hand.
My father hugs me next.
“Dad….what are you and Mom doing here?”
“Bron invited us.”
I don’t get it. “He…did?”
“Yes, honey. We flew to Vegas not long after you and Bron left Chicago.”
“But…I don’t understand. Bill…”
“Let’s sit down and talk, Leigh,” my father says, pulling a chair for me.
Bron clears his throat. “I’ll leave you guys to talk. Dinner will be served shortly. I’ll see you later, Leigh?”
I have no words. I can only look at Bron, still shocked at this sudden turn of events. He smiles and leaves me with my parents.
What the hell is happening?
But judging from Dad’s happy face, I reckon he’s not mad at me anymore. And seeing Mom’s glowing eyes, I can fairly conclude I still have parents.
“I can’t believe what I’ve learned about Bill. His company is on the verge of bankruptcy. My God, I thought his company was solid! Where the hell did he get those millions to support me?”
My father is livid. I didn’t even have to ask the questions. He’s spewing all the answers.
“I know now. It’s Bron’s money. Bill was stringing me all along. He owes Bron and his brother Luc hundreds of millions, and he can’t pay up, so he was counting on me to help him secure lucrative government contracts. That’s why he wanted to marry you.”
“We thought he believed in our causes. We thought he really loved you,” Mom chimes in dramatically.
I just watch and listen to them quietly. I don’t believe for one moment that they were so naive to be fooled by Bill. Dad is the shrewdest lawyer I know. Of course, he knew that there would be a payback of some sort. Maybe he just didn’t expect it to be of such magnitude. Dad is peeved that Bill was trying to use him on a far bigger scale than the other way around.
“Bron is going to take over Bill’s company,” Dad continues.
Poor Bill.
“My goodness, honey, am I glad I agreed to your little getaway trip! He’s like the King of Vegas! Look at this place! And he’s quite famous, too!”
“Famous?” I blink at Mom. “Bron?”
“Honey, he was an undefeated mixed martial arts champion! Didn’t you know? Your father used to watch him!”