Beauty in the Broken: A Diamond Magnate Novel

by Charmaine Pauls

  “I had to tell you,” she gushes. “Don’t you know what people say?”

  “What do people say?”

  “You married a crazy woman. She’s weird. She humiliated you with a funeral dress at your wedding.”

  “People are fast to judge. Who’s to say she’s not eccentric?”

  “That dress wasn’t eccentric, and you know it. Everyone knows it. It was a statement. Tony says she didn’t want an engagement ring, that she practically threw a four-carat diamond back in your face. Her arms are cut up. She can’t close a door, never mind locking it. She builds homes for bats. She got my grandfather fired over those damn bats. Everyone says she prefers vampires to people. Then there’s the newspaper articles, and that photo of her almost throwing herself under a bus.”

  She pauses to take a breath.

  I cross my arms. “Anything else?”

  Some of her enthusiasm evaporates. She deflates. “You know better than me.”

  “Damn right.”

  “This is terrible. I feel awful for you.”

  “You’re right. It’s terrible.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  Pulling on my arms, she unfolds them and takes my hand between both of hers. “I understand you need her money for your mine. I’m not a fool. Everyone knows why you married her. This is going to sound terrible, but you can have the money without having to put up with her.”

  My insides tighten. Anger coils through my veins. “What are you proposing?”

  “There are places you can send crazy people.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Institutions.”

  She nods enthusiastically. “Yes. To get better.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re suggesting I have her locked up.”

  “I prefer to see it as being cared for by people who can help her. You’ll still manage her money. You’ll still have your mine.”

  I pull my hand free. “That sounds rather selfish.”

  “You have to start thinking about yourself, about your image, and how you want the world to see you. Your success is growing, day by day. Do you want your international liaisons to know you as that guy who married the crazy woman, or the successful, respected businessman you are?”

  “Wow, Anne. You really are a piece of work.”

  Her demeanor slips. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re vicious, self-serving, and cruel. The judgment you so persuasively chose for Lina will be yours. Pack your bags. I want you out by tomorrow morning. Be glad I’m not having you locked up.” Not able to look at her for a minute longer, I grab the basket of bread and walk to the door.

  “Wait.” She runs after me. “Everything I said is true. I’m doing this for you.”

  “Don’t say goodbye before you go.”

  “Where are you going?” she cries.

  To interrogate my wife.

  My footsteps fall hard down the hall. I’m mad with Lina for setting me up with Anne, livid with Anne, and most of all, if I’m honest, worried about my wife.

  Lina is sitting up in bed, tense. Her eyes grow big when she spots the basket in my arms.

  I dump it on the bed. “Explain.”

  She looks between the bread and me. “They’re bread rolls.”

  “I know the what. I want to know the why.”

  “In case we run out of bread.”

  “Fuck, Lina.” Frustrated, I rest my hands on my hips. “That’s lame. You can do better than that.”

  Biting her lip, she looks toward the window.

  “What happened in Willowbrook, Lina?”

  She shakes her head.

  I walk around the bed, into her line of vision. “I went to Willowbrook.”

  Her eyes turn bigger still. “Why?”

  “I wanted to know what happened to you.”

  She only looks at me, wide-eyed and trapped.

  Sitting down on the bed, I take her hand. “Tell me what they did to you.”

  Her voice is even, but her hand trembles in mine. “Nothing I’d like to repeat.”

  “I need to know.”

  Her eyes turn out of focus. She’s tuning me out, hiding from the past.

  “Look at me,” I urge gently. “I’m going to shut down that hellhole. I need to know what they did to you.”

  Her expression is hopeful, uncertain.

  “I’m going to make them pay, each and every one of them.” Bringing her hand to my mouth, I rub her fingers over my lips. “I swear it to you.”

  “Why do you care what they did to me?”

  “Nobody hurts what’s mine and gets away with it.”

  “I wasn’t yours back then.”

  “You were. You always were.”

  “Damian.” She pulls her hand free. “You’re insane.”

  I smile. “That makes two of us.”

  Her regard is reprimanding. “That’s not funny.”

  She’s got to stop giving me the schoolmistress act or I’ll forget why I’m here. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No,” she whispers.

  “Then trust me in this. They’ll never work again, not one single person who’s ever been connected to that place. Say the word and I’ll kill them all for you.”

  “No,” she cries with a start. “I don’t want you to kill anyone.”

  “Then start talking.”

  She utters a tremulous sigh. I know the exact moment she takes the mental jump. Her hands fist and her lips part. There’s a pause, and then it all comes gushing out.

  “They strapped me to a bed, injected me with drugs, and starved me.”

  It’s the conclusion I already came to, minus the starving part. Hearing her say it makes my organs boil in vengeful anger. Dickenson will be exposed. I swear.

  “That’s why I stole the bread. It’s compulsive.”

  In case I take her food away. In case she goes hungry. I’ve suffered many wrongs, but never deliberate starvation, not even at the hands of my no-good parents. I can’t begin to imagine what she went through. The pieces that didn’t make sense come together. How she gobbled down her first meal in this house, how she always eats as if there won’t be another meal, why she dried an emergency stack of bread, the sugar she took in the restaurant, everything now makes sense.

  “You didn’t steal anything. What’s mine is yours. I’ll never let you starve.” Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her close. I hold her lightly, still mindful of her sore back. “I’ll give you justice. I promise.”

  She buries her face in my chest and grabs a handful of my shirt.

  “Why did Dalton send you there?” I ask, worried she’ll stop talking.

  “I was being difficult when he brought me home after Jack’s death.”

  Clarke had her declared incompetent. Her right to make decisions had already been stripped. She wouldn’t have been able to contest a decision Dalton had made in her best interest. She was locked up against her will, but why starve her? It’s not the loving father image I had in my head. The more I hear, the more that image unravels and the ends don’t tie up.

  “Dalton knew what was happening there.” I kiss the top of her head. “There’s more to it. I want to know everything.”

  She stills. For a moment, I believe she’s going to tell me, but then she says, “There are things I can’t trust anyone with but myself.”

  Pulling away, I offer her a smile. It’s soft. It’s meant to put her at ease. Yes, it’s manipulative, but I’ll never use any information she shares with me against her. I’ll never judge her.

  “You and your things,” I say, making light of the statement.

  She doesn’t take the bait. “There are secrets I can’t trust anyone with.”

  “Haven’t I earned your trust?”

  She scoffs and pushes me away.

  “Have I ever not done something I said I would?”

  “No,” she whispers, averting her eyes.

  “I’ll avenge you, Lina, even if y
ou never tell me.” I’ll find out, though. I want to know every fucking sin ever committed against her. “I don’t know what you’re hiding or why, but I’m not your enemy. I’m your husband. You’re mine, and I’ll protect you until my dying day.”

  She blinks. She searches my face as she digests my words. “You forced me to marry you for your warped motivations. You’re keeping me tied to you against my will, and proclaim you’ll do it until your dying day. How can I trust you?”

  I narrow my eyes at the truthful accusations. On any other day, I would’ve gladly reminded her how much she likes to be kept against her will, but not today. “Have I lied to you, ever?”

  “No,” she says again.

  “Trust me, angel. Try, at least. No one can carry their secrets alone forever.”

  It’s true. I see the realization in her eyes as she studies the pattern of the bedspread. I see the weight of her past in her slumped posture and the temptation to unburden herself in the way she works her lip between her teeth.

  After a while, she looks up at me with big, tormented eyes. “I need time.”

  I accept the olive branch. “I can be patient.”

  “Thank you.”

  The words are barely audible, but she gave me something. She gave me gratitude.

  “Now you can tell me about your addiction to jelly beans.”

  She blushes redder than raspberries.

  I grin. “Zane said he cleaned out two stores. How many jelly beans can one, meager woman eat?”

  “I…” She wipes a strand of hair behind her ear, not meeting my eyes. “I need jelly beans when I’m upset.”

  Chuckling, I grip her chin and lift her face to mine. “I’ll remember that. I’ll have to keep a supply.”

  She looks away again.

  “You only have to ask. No amount of jelly beans will ever be too much.”

  An almost-smile tugs at her lips. It’s not enough to make her dimple appear, but it warms my heart in a foreign kind of way, a good way. I want that smile more than anything, but I won’t have it tonight. There’s one more thing standing in the way of trust and smiles.

  I peel off my jacket and walk to the bathroom. In the door, I turn. “Anne is leaving tomorrow. If you ever try to hook me up with another woman again, it won’t end well for you, either.”

  The raspberry red drains from cheeks. “Are you going to punish me?”

  “As you deserve, but only when you’ve healed.” She needs to understand how seriously I’m taking our vows. “It’ll give you something to think about until then.”

  I work from home the following day, setting myself up in the lounge while the cleaners vacuum upstairs. It’s to keep an eye on Zane. He blamed Lina for Anne’s hasty departure, and I don’t like the expression on his face when he looks at my wife. I drew several security tapes and watched them randomly but didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary.

  There’s an even greater distance between Zane and me, and no flowers in the entrance, today. Signs are everything. Taking the sign of the empty vase to heart, I order one of my most trusted guards, Drew, to watch every single security feed, second by second.

  The next task of the day is getting a jail connection to look into Clarke’s household staff records. I want names, dates, and designations. I instruct him to also get an employment record for Willowbrook. If someone had been paid under the table, I want to know. If someone had as much as licked a stamp and stuck it to an envelope in the name of that establishment, I want to have his name.

  Ellis is in town to oversee the purchase of new equipment. He grudgingly comes over for a meeting in the afternoon when the annoying vacuuming finally ceases.

  “Where’s that lovely wife of yours?” he asks when I show him into the study.

  In bed, wearing my shirt. I get hard just from the thought of it. “Busy.”

  “Pity. She’s a good one. You’ll be wise to hold onto her.”

  He has no idea. “Drink?”

  I go over to the liquor tray and lift the decanter. Something on the bottom catches my attention. I hold it up to the light. Strike me dead. Gooey balls, some discolored, spoil my five-thousand-rand whisky.

  I replace the decanter. “Or maybe not.”

  Ellis gives the alcohol a curious look.

  “Let’s get to business.” I take a seat and shift.

  Something hard and knobby digs into my ass. Letting out a disgruntled groan, I get up and pluck the thin cushion aside. Fuck me. The seat of my favorite chair is covered in colorful balls.

  Jelly beans.

  “Is everything all right?” Ellis asks, taking the visitor’s chair.

  I brush the candy aside, unable to hide my grin, and sit down as the little balls run in every direction over the floor.

  “Perfect.” I open my leather satchel and take out the file I prepared, only to have jelly beans tumble from the bag. They’re everywhere, the little fuckers. In every fold, nook, and cranny of the bag.

  Turning the file upside down, I shake. Another explosion of balls hops and bounce everywhere.

  Ellis leans to the side, staring at the balls and raising an eyebrow.

  I’ll have to teach my pretty wife a thing or two about revenge. My smile is drawn-out and broad, this time. Still determined not to let Lina’s stunt distract me, I flick open the file. The paper is filled with colorful stains. Pulling it from the folder, I hand Ellis the ruined contract.

  He looks it over, his frown deepening. “Are those…?” He leans to the side again and scratches his head. “Jelly beans?”

  I hold up a finger. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  I march straight to our bedroom. The door is open, but Lina gives a start when I enter. She’s sitting in a window seat, reading a driver’s license manual.

  She lowers the manual warily when my steps eat up the distance between us.

  “Damian, I—”

  I don’t give her time to say more. I grab her face between my hands and kiss her hard. Urgently. I bite her lips and suck on her tongue. The manual drops to the floor, discarded like candy. She’s one of a kind. My kind. I knew it six years ago. I know it now.

  Cute, innocent, beautiful, clean, the light to my dark. I’m going to buy her a jelly bean gun so she can shower me in candy bullets. She’s fucking priceless.

  I love her.

  I still. I pull away.

  Her lips are red and swollen. Her eyes are unfocussed and lustful.

  I’m hard and shocked.

  “Damian?”

  “In an hour, I want you naked on your hands and knees in my study.”

  She pales. “Why?”

  The minx. She knows exactly why. “You’re going to recover each and every jelly bean from the floor, and you’re going to do it without interrupting my work. If you make as much as a chirp, I’ll spank your ass, welts or not.”

  Her mouth drops open.

  I backtrack to the door, shaken, imprinting her there in my shirt on the seat, messily kissed, remembering how she looked when I realized I love her.

  Lina

  Oh, how I hate Damian.

  How I hate his study floor.

  The tiles are hard and cold. The rugs are rough and scratchy.

  While he watches, I crawl around naked and drop the candy in the empty jar he gave me.

  He nudges my thigh with his shoe when I move around his chair.

  “I think you missed one under the desk.”

  Glaring doesn’t help. He only grins at me briefly before turning his attention back to his file. Every so often he stops and criticizes, telling me to check behind the curtains and under the rugs.

  When there’s not a single candy astray and my knees are raw, he takes the jar and leaves it on the corner of his desk.

  “Get up.” He offers me a hand.

  My legs are stiff from crawling. I don’t have a choice but to accept. Standing naked in front of him, he looks me over. My punishment isn’t finished. I can see it in his eyes. He’s going to mak
e me pay more. The question is how.

  I know soon enough when he sits down in his chair and opens his fly. He releases his cock but doesn’t undress more. He doesn’t even unbutton his pants. He’s big and hard. He curls his finger at me, calling me closer.

  After the long time on all fours, walking feels weird. It takes two steps to find my balance. I stop next to his chair.

  “Ride me.”

  I blink in shock. Except for that one time when I saw Anne leave his room, he’s been doing all the taking. “I’m not sure—”

  “Ride me or give me your ass. Your choice.”

  My breath catches. I don’t want the latter.

  Holding my eyes, he turns his chair so he’s facing me, giving me access. He already knows what my decision will be. I glance down at his hard cock, jutting out from the expensive fabric of his pants. His legs are spread wide, taking up the entire seat. He takes up all the air in the room. It takes all I have and more to grip the armrests and put my knee on the outside of his thigh. He makes a little space for me, a small concession. I lift my other leg and he gives me the same. Just enough. He watches my face as I straddle him. I have to stretch my legs wide. Somehow, it makes it more intense that he’s watching my face and not looking down between my legs. My pussy is on display. My feelings are hidden. He knows it. He wants to see the hidden, to take what’s not for the taking. I lift myself over his cock and still he studies my face. My body is unclad but it’s my soul he wants naked.

  I bite my lip as I feel the head of his cock on the right place. I try to lock my feelings away as I lower myself onto him, but the moment he shifts his hips, the truth spills out of my mouth. I gasp as he rolls. He’s not even inside me fully, and my back arches from the delicious heat.

  “Show me,” he grits out.

  I do. I take his whole length inside me. I lift and lower myself again to feel the stretch, the pleasure. He holds onto my face with his eyes as I clamp my hands over his on the armrest and dig my nails into his flesh. I move for myself, taking for me, crossing the last line.

  It doesn’t take me long. Angling my body, I find the friction I need on my clit. I come before he does, crying out the truth he wanted to see. It’s only then he takes over, jamming himself up until my body bounces and all my restraints fall away. I let go of his hands to snake my arms around his neck. He bites my nipple and pinches my clit. With his cum inside me, I climax again. My head rolls back as he smacks my ass and licks my other nipple.