by V. F. Mason
Sitting more comfortably on the chair, I place the napkin in my lap and press on the button to finally order food; otherwise, the drink will go to my head.
“I mean, she should leave ballet really, considering how they treat her, and just make money here. I imagine they pay well.” She shifts her attention to me, sliding closer. “Which reminds me. What do you think of Paris?” She has the most random thoughts ever.
“Em… it’s a beautiful city?” And loud.
She rolls her eyes. “I meant what do you think of going there with me?” She digs in her small purse and then slides open her phone. She searches for something and then practically shoves it in my face. “I bought you a plane ticket with an open date.”
“Bella, this is—”
She wiggles her index finger at me. “Don’t answer now, but think about it. Nothing keeps you here anymore, and in Paris, you’ll have lots of possibilities. They invited you the first time, after all. It will be a good start for you, away from everything else.”
“The situation with Max doesn’t change anything else though.” But as betraying as it sounds deep down, I think about what my life would be like if I listen to her and follow my heart, without thinking about everyone else.
Without feeling like I owe it to my mom to stay her little princess so nothing bad will happen. To remember that girl who could sing her heart out with Jason in his car while Queen blasted from the radio.
To be a girl who can make love under the stars because she feels like it, unafraid of consequences.
Simply to be a girl who doesn’t live under the weight of an ax that always hangs above her head.
“Maybe it’s a push to start anew?” She pats my palm, and I open my mouth to reply when a shadow looms over us. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, sending now familiar awareness through my entire system, and my breath hitches.
My eyes close as a deep voice speaks softly yet firmly, almost caressing my skin. “Valencia.”
Lachlan.
Lachlan
If a woman’s beauty could have been described in symphony numbers, then Valencia would be Symphony No. 9 by Beethoven. As beautiful and as rapidly changing pace.
A white dress hugs her slender body. The open back provides a perfect view of her flawless skin, inviting me to leave an imprint on it, imaging how it will dip under my touch. Her chocolate hair shouldn’t be enclosed in the stupid bun, but cascading down her back freely so I can tug on it whenever the fuck I want. Her locks are shiny and silky, and look gorgeous around my fist.
I never wanted her for myself, but with each passing day, the obsession to make her mine and own that angelic body of hers drives me insane, to the point of threatening to lose my control. I should worry more about it than I do, but at the end of the day, she is mine either way.
Tortured or fucked.
And it’s about time she knew it too. The information needs to seal forever into her brain so she won’t display what belongs to me for every willing man to see.
If a hunter trains his prey well, she seeks him without realizing it. She is already following the path I have so carefully placed to trap her.
But I want more.
She is mine.
It’s time to train her to remember that too.
Chapter Nine
New York, New York
January 2018
Valencia
It should be a crime for a man to be this handsome.
Lachlan places his palms on the table, his mouth lifting in a half smile as he greets us. “Welcome to the club, ladies.” Then he focuses his drilling blue eyes on me. “Glad you came.”
Bella’s cheeks flush and I can’t really blame her. He is the epitome of masculine sexuality, especially with his sleeves rolled up, showcasing every rigid muscle. And the five o’clock shadow only adds to his charm.
“You own this place?” Bella asks excitedly, and Lachlan chuckles while I huff in annoyance, because I can already predict the answer is yes.
“Afraid so.”
“It seems you acquire every place that has me in it.” I’m mortified by my words, which earns me another grin, and that makes me want to kiss him and punch him at the same time.
“I’m yet to buy Olga’s studio and your condo. But the time will come for that too.” He lingers his eyes on my lips before adding, “Among other things.”
Bella blinks in surprise, but I only shoot her daggers. No need to encourage his behavior!
Out of nowhere, Mia, wearing a silky dress over her voluptuous figure, joins our table. “You guys are here. I can explain,” she says, but then her face beams as she wraps her hands around Lachlan’s middle while he pats her on the back. “I’m so happy to see you.” He gives her a peck on her hair, and I squeeze the napkin on my lap.
She wrapped herself around him like an octopus around its prey!
An awkward silence follows, because I can’t stop staring at her freaking hand. A red haze makes it almost impossible to breathe, because I want to snatch her hand from him.
I’m officially losing my mind. First, Bella, and now Mia. Why am I acting this way? He is not mine, and I should stay away from him.
Not experience jealously when he shows an interest in another woman, or rather when one shows an interest in him.
“Well, no worries. It is sexy.” Bella kicks me under the table, nudging me for a reassuring reaction, and I muster a smile on my face, hoping it looks convincing enough.
“You were amazing on stage. And don’t worry, we won’t tell.”
Her grin widens as she finally lets Lachlan go and claps her hands. “You are the best, Valencia. I can’t wait for you to perform the swan. You’ll rock!”
“She will,” Lachlan agrees with her, his gaze still on me, and our stares clash as electricity rushes through me, reminding me how he gave me the same look right before he kissed me in the studio.
I wish he would stop it; he studies me as if I’m his to do with whatever he pleases.
But more importantly, I wish my body could stop reacting to it and thinking it’s hot.
I left him in Italy for a reason; nothing can ever work between him and me, because the man is dangerous to my sanity.
Or sainthood, depending on how one might look at it.
“This club is awesome, by the way,” Bella says and raises her glass to him. “And if the rest of the show is like that, no wonder everyone wants an invite to this.”
He nods. “I have only the best.”
She chuckles into her wine, winking. “Your modesty is truly astonishing.” Before my move can even register, I kick her under the table with my shoe and she almost spills her drink on the table, giving me a confused look.
Oh my God.
Then she understands it, smirks, and wiggles her brows. “Feeling a little possessive, are we?” she whispers from the corner of her mouth, and then speaks louder. “So, since this is your establishment and all that jazz, does this mean everything we order is on the house?”
“Bella!” I snap, but she hears none of it. She waits for Lachlan to react on her assumption and it follows quickly.
“Of course. Be my guests.” He calls for someone with a whistle and at once the waitress from earlier shows up at our table as he points at us. “Make sure they get everything they want. No bill.” Then he addresses Bella, ignoring me. “Have a nice evening, Bella. I hope you will get everything you want from this place.” With these last words, he moves to the crowd, disappearing down a hall that leads to I don’t know where.
Mia gives Bella and me a peck on the cheek before waving us off. “Need to get home quickly, and then study a bit more for my exams.” Right, I forgot she is working on her master’s degree alongside her dancing.
“Be careful, it’s dark.”
She rolls her eyes at my warning. “Valencia, always the caring mother,” she says, and bounces back behind the stage while Bella exclaims, “So?”
I munch on the straw and ask around it, “So?”
“Are you going to explain to me what the hell is going on between you and Kaden, or why I got a bruise on my leg for nothing?”
My cheeks flush as I quickly apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I—”
“Whatever.” She huffs in exasperation. “No biggie. But I do want to know all the dirt on this guy. So spill, my friend.”
Maybe I should talk to someone about this, to get a better perspective on the matter. Plus, she will understand and not judge me, right?
I open my mouth to share my secret with her, when her phone beeps and her brows furrow. Whatever she reads in her message must have really shocked her, as she quickly gets up while dialing her phone. She picks up her purse and runs to the door, and I only have time to blink before snapping out of my stupor and darting after her.
“How is this possible?” she shouts into her phone, and then nudges a bouncer. “Could you please catch a cab for me?” He nods and goes outside while she paces back and forth with her phone, worry written all over her, and my stomach flips.
She rarely worries about anything; what could have happened? “Okay, I will be back in Paris on the first flight. I love you too. Bye.” She hangs up and I shake my head, expecting an explanation. She exhales heavily. “That’s Pierre.” Her latest boyfriend, but they seem pretty serious according to her. “His grandmother is ill, and she is amazing. They give her just a few days to live, and he just can’t handle it—” She stops midsentence, and I hug her close while she hiccups into my shoulder. “She is really a nice lady.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” She tightens her hold on me, but then the bouncer calls, “Your cab is here.”
She leans back and graces me with a teary smile. “As always, our get-together didn’t end as planned. I’m going to the hotel to pack and then jump on the next flight.”
“Let me grab my purse and I’ll go with you.” She’ll need all the support right now.
She shakes her head, blowing me a kiss. “Nope. I need to be on my own right now.” I nod, because I understand it too. It’s devastating when a loved one suffers and you can’t do anything about it. “Think about my words regarding Paris.” With a final wave, she hops in the cab while I’m left standing as the breeze hits me in the face.
A low growl sends shivers down my spine. “Get inside.” Lachlan turns me by my shoulders in the direction of the club and practically drags me back inside.
The warmth of the place quickly brings back my common sense. “Let go of me, you brute.” I pull at my hand and stumble back when he doesn’t retain his hold on me. “I’m leaving anyway. Thanks for the invitation. No need to send it again.” I spin around and go to my table, quickly grabbing my purse and jacket while gritting my teeth at the disappointment filling me. He doesn’t follow me or even try to change my mind.
Does he care or not? His behavior is giving me mental whiplash.
The waiter from earlier shows up and points at my mouth. “What’s with the face? My magic drink was supposed to lift up your mood, not make it even worse.”
I give him a soft smile. “Something came up.”
“Well, you know—” He shuts up, saluting me. “Have a nice night, umm, lady.”
Lady? What happened to doll?
I don’t have to wonder for long as I notice Lachlan scowling at us and roll my eyes. If he can’t have it, apparently no one else can either.
I walk past him, but he grabs my arm, stilling my movement as our eyes clash. Mine annoyed and his stormy, reminding me of the sea. “I’m fucking tired of this cat and mouse game, Valencia.”
“Don’t play it then.” All of a sudden all this is my fault? “You show up in my world, doing business with my stepfather. Our fling was supposed to stay in Italy. Yet you come here and confuse me, and….” I can’t believe I spill all this right in the middle of the freaking burlesque club!
He brings me closer, his breath fanning my cheeks, and I raise my chin, not wanting to back down under his harsh stare. “I never said I wanted a relationship. But I do want what you denied me.” My brows furrow as I wait for him to elaborate and he does, and his words send heat through my entire system, reminding me of the man hiding beneath the cold exterior. “One last night. We promised ourselves seven days and nights. And you only gave me six.”
“This is—” He wants me because of some unfulfilled promise? Is he insane? “I won’t sleep with you just to be done with our seven days.”
He trails his knuckles over my cheek and presses us flush against each other, so it’s impossible to miss the heat coming from him. “Live a little for yourself, perfect angel.”
Licking my lips, I reply, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Tell me you don’t want my cock sinking deep into your tight pussy, to feed the need that drives you insane.” I gasp at his crude words, but he only leans closer, splaying his open palm on my back as he continues to murmur into my ear. “Tell me that you didn’t let that limp dick touch you. Because how could you after what you experienced with me?” He bites on my earlobe, right before saying, “Tell me that no self-satisfaction brought you relief.”
I stay silent, my eyes closed as I drink in his smell and words that hold so much truth I can’t deny them. “This is wrong.”
“I’m not looking for anything right. Just one night, Valencia. Let’s feed each other’s need so this insanity can finally let us be and move on.” He pulls tightly on my bun as I breathe heavily and can only see his handsome face in front of me.
He is right, so right. The past six months have been nothing but torture, and maybe to get over Lachlan I need to sleep with him one last time.
Sort of like a goodbye to the rebellious person I tried to be, and failed.
Close the loose end before moving on to something different.
And even though it’s probably the stupidest decision I’ve ever made, I speak the words nevertheless. “One last night.”
God help us both.
Lachlan
My little prey will always find a way to her hunter. A bond that’s unbreakable. Sort of like the victim and victimizer, a never-ending circle unless the victim rebels and shows strength.
That’s what I should focus on instead of the insane need to erase every touch of another man from her skin and make her pay for every day she belonged to him and not me.
Wanting her shouldn’t be a driving force in any of this. Indifference and cold calculation, that’s what any hunt should be about.
Anyhow, this doesn’t follow any plan, but it’ll make the game even more interesting.
Valencia will be introduced to her captor’s castle sooner rather than later.
Valencia
Lachlan presses the remote, and the iron gates slide open as two security guards nod in our direction. He roars the engine to life, driving inside, and I hold back a surprised gasp.
The mansion is freaking huge and reminds me of a castle in the cartoons I watched when I was a kid. Just how many properties does he have?
The huge horizontal brick building spreads across the land. The magnificent architecture includes several statues in arches that create a mysterious allure, but also a little fear, and it seems there is no escape from it.
It has two levels with a lot of windows with balconies attached, and most of them are made from stained glass, reminding me of cathedrals.
It appears to be surrounded by a beautiful garden by the short snippets I manage to see before Lachlan stops the car by the massive wooden door with three sets of stairs leading to it, all made out of marble.
Freaking marble! I knew he was rich, but this is just too much. Why would someone need this kind of house? The only thing missing is the storm and lightning, and this place would be straight out of a horror movie.
“All you need now is a butler waiting for us.” I speak for the first time since the club, hoping to break the tension that filled the car the closer and closer we got to here.
He laughs and my brows furrow, but he does
n’t elaborate.
He doesn’t have a butler, right?
Lachlan turns the car off, gets out, and walks around it to open the door for me as he points at the house. “Welcome to my mansion, Valencia.” The way he says it casually, yet so possessively, fills me with dread and wonder at the same time, and my heart starts beating rapidly as I take a deep breath, confused with myself.
Stepping inside this castle-like place creates weird sensations all over me, as even the walls beam with something, something so unfamiliar yet scary, as if holding secrets that should never be uncovered. “Did you change your mind?” he asks, drilling his blue orbs into me, and I shake my head.
If anything, I will give myself tonight and think about consequences tomorrow, even maybe curse myself for it. But tonight, nothing exists but this brief moment in time where everything besides him and me goes still.
When we enter his house, my heels echo off the walls and my eyes widen as I cover my mouth with my hand.
Everything is lit up with candles spread all over the hall, on the floor and banisters, and even dangling from the ceiling. Like we are living in the eighteenth century and Thomas Edison hadn’t invented the electric bulb yet.
The door shuts behind me and then I feel his heat against me, as he murmurs, “Like it?” And he pulls me against him.
A raspy breath escapes me. “This is surreal. Why would—”
He spins me around and crushes his mouth to mine, changing my question into a moan as he slides his hands down my ass and hikes me up, leaving me no choice but to wrap my legs around him while my arms circle his neck.
His kiss is demanding, passionate yet punishing in a way that brings me pain along with pleasure. As if he wants me to forever remember the imprint of it but at the same time hates that he is doing it.
Hates that he needs me.
His tongue glides against mine as he takes me upstairs, fisting my hair and not allowing me to move my mouth from him, even an inch. He doesn’t even give me a chance to study the rest of the house.
This goes on as his feet thump on the floor, and when he enters the room, my head spins as he puts me on the floor and steadies me as I sway a little.