by B. B. Hamel
“Maeve’s crafty, but she’s not omnipotent.”
“She’s as close to that as any woman could be. You need to be careful.”
“I’m not concerned.”
Kaspar’s fingers clenched his knife like he wanted to jam it into Redmond’s throat, and I had no doubt that he’d do it.
“Gather your strength. I’ll lend you as much of mine as I can until your house is completely in order. Then we’re moving on Maeve.”
Redmond waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be ready whenever you are.”
Kaspar stood abruptly. He glared down at Redmond then turned away. “Maeve can’t survive this year. If we don’t hit her hard and fast, the others will rally to her defense. Including Darren and Roman.”
“What is it with you and the old witch? You’ve always disliked her. We all know it.”
He glanced back at me, and something in his gaze said I should know the answer—but I was clueless.
“We have a past. Prepare yourself, Redmond. I will make sure you uphold your end of the bargain.” With that, he strode out.
I hurried to catch up. His men came after me, looking like they wished they’d gotten the chance to fire those weapons of theirs. Boys and their stupid toys.
Kaspar stood in the crisp Rome evening and took several long breaths. He continued walking, but slowed his pace and allowed me to reach his side. He looked sideways at me, eyes hard and impossible to read.
“I shouldn’t have let him rattle me like that.”
“Why did you then?”
“You know why.”
I shook my head, trying not to let him see my discomfort. The image of Redmond lying on the floor with glass dug into his face would haunt me for a long time.
“I don’t understand what you see in me, Kaspar. I’m not worth any of this.”
“You don’t have to understand.” He stared at me then gently touched my arm. I tried not to flinch back, but he must’ve noticed my hesitation. Still, his fingers lingered. “Redmond doesn’t deserve your pity, you know.”
“I don’t feel sorry for him. A few scars will do that spoiled brat some good.”
Kaspar laughed sharply. “That’s why I like you. You’re stronger than you let on.”
“If you like me for my strength, then why do you keep me locked up?”
“Because you need to be given time to understand that what you think of me is wrong.”
“What do I think of you?”
His fingers tightened and he pulled me closer. “You think I’m a murderer.”
I stared into his eyes. My pulse leapt into my throat. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
He moved closer, his lips inches from mine. The man was gorgeous, and I stood enraptured with him and hating myself for it. If I really were as strong as he believed, I’d shove him away and run. I’d do anything but look back at his gorgeous eyes and let my vision linger on his slightly parted lips and that tongue right behind his teeth—
I’d do anything not to remember what I gave to him and how it felt, all those years ago.
“I’ve done horrible things, but I’ve always had a good reason.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s why I won’t let you go.” He moved his mouth to the side of my neck, near my throat, and kissed me gently. I sucked in a breath and stayed frozen, afraid that if I did anything, it would only provoke him further.
Or that was what I told myself. Fear kept me in place, but also something else—a longing that I’d ignored, kept buried deep, deep down for a long, long time. Ever since Blackwoods, I never let myself remember what we did together, that one perfect night. I couldn’t remember, because as soon as I did, I might see Kaspar as a human again, instead of the monster I knew he really was.
“Taking me as your prisoner isn’t going to get you what you want.”
“No, but killing Maeve will. And in time, I think you’ll understand why.”
“I don’t get what she has to do with any of this.”
He touched my lips with his thumb. I shivered with pleasure and disgust and anger and lust.
“You will.”
He kissed me then, deep and passionate, and all those long-buried feelings surfaced, reared their heads like unwanted nightmares, and I kissed him back, moaning into his mouth as he pulled me close against him, massive and strong and unyielding, Kaspar the killer, Kaspar the stalker, Kaspar the lover. He tasted like honey and flowers and heaven, and I hated him for it, despised him for the way he treated me like I was a thing he could have, instead of a person he could love.
I bit his lip and shoved him back. He sucked in a breath and touched his lower lip, smiling as I stormed away. He followed, but at a distance, and didn’t approach until I calmed down. I sat on the edge of a fountain, breathing hard, people milling around and ignoring the pissed-off American girl that kept staring at the water like she wanted to cut it into pieces.
Just like I wanted to tear Kaspar into shreds.
He sat down next to me and put a hand on my thigh. I didn’t push it away. I felt so alone and lost and angry that any small gesture—even from the man that caused all this—was welcome.
“We’re going back home soon.”
“Back to Servant Manor?” I felt a strange thrill of excitement.
“Back to America.”
I deflated. “Right. Of course. You can’t let me anywhere near my brother, can you?”
“Not yet. But one day, I hope I won’t have to worry about that.”
“Why are you so obsessed with me?” I shoved away his hand angrily. I felt like a petulant child. I wanted him to kiss me again—to shove me back against the fountain and fuck me right here in the damn street. “What do you see in me?”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he looked up and the moon reflected in his eyes, glowing and perfect.
“Growing up, I didn’t have many friends. Then I was sent away to boarding school, and the boys and girls there flocked to me, at first because of my family name, but then because of the way I look. They loved me, and I didn’t know why, but I accepted their love. I used it. But then I went to Blackwoods and met you.”
He paused, as if remembering the first time he saw me. “You were beautiful, and you didn’t give a damn about me. I found that fascinating. The more I got to know you, the more I wanted you, had to have you. I learned every little detail about your life, Penny, because you were too beautiful not to take. Even back then, I knew we were meant for each other, because you’re as lonely as I am, despite being surrounded by people all the time.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I said, hating that he was right.
“We’re much more alike than you realize.” He leaned closer, speaking low. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since Blackwoods. Dreaming about the night we spent together. About the way you taste, the way you come, the way you moaned my name—”
“Stop it,” I whispered.
But he wouldn’t. “I’ve dreamed about your lips wrapped around my cock for years. I want to taste you again, love. I want to fuck you again. I want to make you ride my cock until you can’t take much more. You can sit there and pretend like you’re not shivering with want for me right now, but we both know that once my tongue’s lapping up your dripping pussy, you’ll be all mine again. It’s only a matter of time.”
I looked away, burning red.
Lust and hate filled me in equal measure.
“Take me back.”
“As you command.” His voice was playful, teasing.
I followed him to the house and hid in my room. That night, I locked my door, slipped my hand between my legs, and came while thinking about him, how much I despised him, how much he’d ruined already, and how good he could make me feel.
13
Penny
Present Day
Somewhere in the Midwest
Kaspar dragged me around Europe for the next week, never settling anywhere longer than a night before moving on. I did
n’t see much of him, but I heard his meetings. He held them in the local language: French, Spanish, Dutch, Finnish. I had no clue what they were talking about, but the men he met with were hardened and angry, with a dangerous gleam in their eyes, and I knew the type.
Criminals. Mobsters. Organized crime.
Kaspar was recruiting from the international families. I wondered how that would play out with the other Oligarchs, then remembered that I didn’t give a crap.
I tried to have a private moment with Cards, but didn’t have any luck. Whenever I thought I might be able to approach him again, someone came into the room and ruined my chance, or he slipped away before I worked up the nerve. It was like we were locked in a dance, and I could’ve sworn he kept looking at me with a particular type of longing—not sexual, not romantic, but intense all the same.
He’d break and come to me, and when he did, I was getting away.
Kaspar flew us back to America one morning without explaining where we were going. I sat curled up on the private jet trying to ignore him, but Kaspar kept looking at me with this strange stare, like he wanted to rip off my clothes in front of his men and ravish me. It was hard to ignore that level of blatant lust, and I almost envied him. The amount of confidence it took to act like that, not caring what anyone else thought, was impressive.
We landed at a small regional airport after the longest trip of my life. He took me down a series of back roads, down a long dirt trail, and past acres and acres of cornfields, before a large country farmhouse spread itself out in a huge clearing in the middle of the crops.
From the outside, it seemed quaint. Wrap-around porch, red barn, ATVs parked in a neat row, even a black Labrador barking and jumping around. But I noticed the small touches that screamed Oligarch: security cameras, men with weapons, high fences, drones floating around the airspace.
Kaspar led me into the main house. It was all reclaimed wooden floors and rustic decorations, like something straight out of a magazine. He barely looked around, only took me up to my room and tossed my bag on the bed.
“We have a meeting in an hour. Get some rest.” He turned to leave.
“Wait. Who are we meeting with?”
He seemed to hesitate. I didn’t see that from him very often.
“Your sister, Erin.”
I felt my tongue go numb, like I’d bitten into poisoned fruit.
He watched me carefully, judging my reaction. I tried to keep myself composed, but hearing her name sent me into a tailspin. What was he thinking, bringing her here? And what was she thinking, coming?
“You should invite Darren too,” I said, trying to make a joke, but it fell flat.
He seemed pained. “I understand you’re unhappy with your situation. I’ve done my best to keep you safe and comfortable—”
“A happy little bird in her pretty golden cage. Should I sing for you too?”
“It’s for your own good.”
“Of course it is. Isn’t that what all the good guys have to say?” I felt vicious, mocking. I wanted to slice into him and rip out his organs, one after the other. “Don’t start pretending like any of this is for me.”
His eyes blazed. “It’s always been for you.”
“You’ve done nothing but take and take. Even back at Blackwoods when I kept telling you to leave me alone, you wouldn’t listen. I know you have some freakish obsession with me, but it’s not going to happen, okay?”
That seemed to break him. He strode forward and I stumbled backward, suddenly terrified that I’d gone too far. He pinned me back up against the wall, slamming me hard enough to knock the wind from my chest, and kissed my neck, biting down gently, but hard enough to leave a mark.
He whispered as he moved up my exposed throat. He could kill me if he wanted to.
“I know what you think of me, but you’re wrong, little pet. I’m a monster, but not the kind you imagine.”
“What are you then? Some lovable, cuddly puppy dog? You’re a killer, Kaspar. I watched you break a glass on another Oligarch’s face.”
“For disrespecting you, and I’d do it again if given the chance. I’d put them all in their places.” His eyes blazed as he lingered close. His breath smelled like honey and spring, and I wanted to leave forward and sink my teeth into his lower lip. I wanted to draw blood. I wanted to hurt him.
Only I knew he’d like it.
“It’s not about me. This is about your own ego. You can’t have me, so you’re going to extreme lengths to try to make me yours anyway.”
He shook his head. “You still don’t get it. It’s not about wanting. This is a hunger, pet. This is a need. I’ll sate myself with you, again and again, and it still won’t be enough.”
“That’s your problem, not mine.”
He let out a breath and released my wrists. I sank away as he walked to the door, once again in control. I refused to cry, refused to let him know how shaken I felt.
“Erin will be here soon. I suggest you clean yourself up.” And he left without a word.
I sank down to the floor and stared at the ceiling.
I didn’t know which was worse: spending more time with Kaspar, or seeing the sister that sold me to the bastard and betrayed my family.
I didn’t know if it was hate pulsing through my heart, or something closer to desire.
A sick, twisted desire.
I was born to this life. Bred into disaster. Violence was wired deep into my very soul.
I still told myself I’d never become like Kaspar. Except the more I was around him, the closer he got, the less sure I felt.
We rode ATVs away from the farm. Kaspar’s dog, Lord Barkington, kept up at an easy loping pace, clearly loving the run. Kaspar led the group with his guards in tow, making sure I couldn’t try to escape even if I wanted to.
But I wouldn’t run from this.
We sped around the cornfield and out toward a deeply wooded region. I didn’t know where we were, but I guessed somewhere in the Midwest—the land was flat and dotted with prairie grass, interspersed with thin forests. At first, I hated driving the ATV, but it quickly grew on me.
I liked the illusion of freedom. Wind in my hair and on my lips. The rev of the engine between my legs. I could go fast if I wanted. I could speed far away from here.
Except even flying, I was still penned in.
We slowed in a clearing near a parking lot with a single charcoal grill, a water fountain, and an empty pavilion. Kaspar nodded toward the benches.
“The whole area’s a big park,” he explained at the confused look on my face. “My property’s on the edge.”
We sat down on cold benches as Kaspar’s men fanned out, disappearing into the trees, but remaining close.
I had so much I wanted to ask him. Why did he need Redmond? Why did he want to attack Maeve so desperately? And what was his relationship with Erin?
Most of all, I needed to know what he planned on doing with me when I refused to be his wife.
Which I would, if I could.
He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. “You want to say something.”
I quickly looked away. The man was eerily good at reading my moods. Probably from observing me so intently for so long.
“It’s nothing.”
“Go ahead, spit it out before your sister arrives.”
“What’s your end game with this?” I asked, gesturing at myself. “Say I really do refuse to marry you. What then?”
“I keep you chained in my basement and treat you as my concubine.”
I felt my stomach twist. “You wouldn’t.”
His lips curled. “I wouldn’t.”
“Then why are you doing this?” I felt on the verge of exploding and I didn’t want to become emotional before my sister even showed up.
“I’m doing this because I care about you,” he said softly, and there was a hint of sadness in his tone.
I went to argue—wanted to tell him he was a real piece of crap—when a single SUV pulle
d into the lot and parked. Two people stepped out: my sister and Chika Abarra.
I gaped at Chika. I didn’t expect her here. She was the head of the Servant Manor and very much aligned with my mother—but the way she hustled after Erin suggested that certain alliances had shifted.
Erin wore a dark pantsuit and strode over like a general on parade. Chika was dressed in her usual formal attire, black slacks and a cream-colored top. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, and her dark eyes gazed at me—longingly? Confused and angry? I couldn’t quite tell.
“Thank you for coming to meet with me, Erin.” Kaspar stood and held out a hand.
Erin shook it, but she kept looking at me. “You didn’t say she’d be here.”
I leaned back in surprise. Erin wasn’t expecting me.
Kaspar was messing with her?
“I think you two need to talk.” Kaspar gave me a meaningful look.
What the hell was happening?
“I said all I had to say the last time we saw each other.” Erin turned her chin up toward me. Chika lurked behind her menacingly.
“That’s it then? My own sister sells me out to an Oligarch and she won’t even have a conversation with me?” I dug my fingers into the table.
“There’s nothing to say.” Her eyes snap back to Kaspar. “This is unacceptable. You can’t just—”
“I can, Erin, and I will. Remember, you have no real power over your household. You might work in the shadows, but Darren is still the head of the Servants.”
Erin ground her teeth. She wasn’t often rattled, but Kaspar had her practically screaming with rage.
“I came to ensure you were moving forward with our deal.”
“Maeve is next. Nothing’s changed. For once, our plans align.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to stay.” She turned to go.
I stood up and slammed my fists down. Chika raised her eyebrows in surprise. She likely never saw me upset in all the time we’d known each other.