Wicked Wolff

by Reese Spenser

  “Good morning, my gray wolf.” My secret nickname for him, hangs in the air as I hold my breath. I watch his reaction, hoping to see a glimpse of his feeling about the moniker.

  “You’ve never called me that before.” Dorian’s voice is hoarse, as if he’s struggling to speak.

  “Does it bother you?”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard my name spoken like that.” He’s quiet for a moment, as if lost in thought. “My mom called me ‘my little gray wolf.’ Due to my gray eyes and my name of course.”

  “Is that where the name Gray Wolff Studio comes from?”

  “It is.”

  A smile curls my lips, unable to hide the connection I feel with Dorian’s mom.

  “You’re not little anymore,” I point out.

  Dorian’s eyes dance with excitement, pulling me in with his heated gaze.

  “No, I’m not little anymore,” he teases.

  “Did your father have a nickname for you?”

  “Little wolf or kleiner wolf, the same as Oma and Opa.”

  I find myself asking about his extended family when curiosity rears its head.

  “Aside from your grandparents, do you have any other family members?”

  “My father is survived by two brothers and a sister and they all have large families according to Oma and Opa. They all live throughout Europe, mainly Germany, France and England. Unfortunately, the distance between us was more than geographical after my parents died and even more so after my uncle Peter passed away. Severing ties with them after my emancipation was an impulsive decision made in anger. A decision born from betrayal and distrust. I’m grateful, Oma and Opa wouldn’t allow me to push them away.”

  “Do you want to reconnect with them?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve gotten used to being on my own.”

  “My parents never gave me the foundation your parents gave you, but I always had my brother Julian and his mom. I was born before my father divorced my brother’s mother. Despite my father’s betrayal Julia loved me as if I were her own. I couldn’t have been loved more by my own mother.”

  “I’m happy for you, Sunshine. But your circumstances aren’t the same as mine.”

  “I know, my point is we all need someone in our corner, cheering us on. Someone who will love us no matter what.”

  Dorian nods in agreement, before climbing out of bed.

  “We should get going before we’re late.”

  Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet hit the floor. Standing, Dorian reaches for me, taking my hand in his. Leading me to the master bath, we shower in silence. I know him well enough to understand he’s processing everything I’ve said.

  Dorian is fully dressed when he speaks again.

  “Leave your car here. We can ride to the studio together.”

  It’s a command, but I hear his unspoken question. ‘Will you stay with me again tonight?’

  I’m learning how to handle my lover’s more dominant side. While it’s fun to defy him occasionally, it’s more rewarding to obey. Giving the dominant what he needs, my submission, gives my lover what he needs, his sunshine.

  We make our way to the kitchen, where Winston has prepared breakfast for us. I thank him for breakfast and the late-night errand to pick up a change of clothing for me. There was no way I was going to take the walk of shame wearing the black skintight dress I wore to the Asylum. When I agreed to stay Sunday night with Dorian, we both knew I would need street clothes for work Monday morning. Winston was tasked with retrieving them.

  Today marks the first time Dorian and I commute to Gray Wolff Studio together. Entering the lobby hand in hand gives me a sense of partnership I haven’t felt before. I know now that whatever comes our way, we will handle it together.

  It’s been two weeks since Carina tried reaching out to Dorian and the fact that we haven’t heard from her since is worrisome. There’s no doubt in my mind the letter she sent me was meant to intimidate and scare me off. She has only succeeded in doing the opposite. Pushing us together, instead of tearing us apart. There are no more secrets between Dorian and I, nothing hidden in the darkness for her to exploit. And even if there were, I will stand by Dorian’s side come hell or high water.

  Ten hours later the workday has come to an end and I’m eager to see Dorian. Taking the elevator to the thirtieth floor, my level of anticipation rises with it. The reception area is empty when I reach Dorian’s office. With no one to announce me, I tap lightly on the closed door.

  “Enter,“ Dorian barks.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I offer, poking my head into his office.

  “Olivia.” He breathes, stepping from behind an antique carved mahogany desk. “You didn’t, my sunshine.”

  “I came to see if you’re ready to leave.”

  “I’ll be here at least two more hours. This conference call with Japan can’t be put off any longer.”

  “Would you like some company?”

  “I want you to drive back to the beach house and wait for me there.” Dorian offers me the key to his Aston Martin, taking my hand as he pulls me into his arms.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. I want you to unwind,” he says, peppering my cheeks with kisses. “Take a bubble bath and relax with a glass of wine. Let me come home to you.”

  Kissing him goodbye, I take the fuel I need for the drive alone. His lips against mine ignites a flame, causing the fire between us to burn intensely. Our bodies meld together, refusing to separate. There’s nothing more intoxicating, than a passionate kiss with the one you love.

  Dorian groans, breaking our kiss, when the sound of the phone ringing penetrates our ears.

  “I have to get back to work.” He says, releasing me.

  Rising on my tip toes, I give Dorian a chaste kiss. “I’ll be waiting,” I say before heading to the door.

  Behind the wheel of Dorian’s Aston Martin, the drive from Gray Wolff Studio to the beach house zips by. Winston is nowhere in sight when I enter the house from the garage. I’m practically floating as I make my way to the master suite. Dorian’s suggestion becomes more enticing with each step I climb.

  But my plans to relax and unwind are completely obliterated by the redhead sitting on Dorian’s bed pointing a gun at me.

  “Please come in, Olivia.” Her voice is laced with saccharin, conveying a false welcome.

  She stands, waving the gun, urging me to enter.

  “Close the door.” With a gun pointed in my face, I do as she commands. “Can I assume you’ve read my letter and you know who I am?”

  “You’re Carina Channing.”

  “That’s right,” She confirms. “And do you know why I’m here?”

  A million possible reason populate my brain at once. To reclaim Dorian as her letter stated, to hurt Dorian or to hurt me.

  “No need to guess. I’ll share my plans with you.”

  “Whatever you’re planning it won’t work.” I try to hide my fear, but my voice lacks confidence.

  Carina laughs, a sound so eerie it scares me more than the gun she holds.

  “How do you see this fairytale of yours ending, Olivia? There’s no Prince Charming to give you your happily ever after.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m in love with the wicked wolf.” The retort is immediate, without reservation or fear holding back the truth. But using the name she penned in her letter may be my downfall if looks could kill.

  “Call him that again and I will shoot you in the fucking head.”

  The false sweetness in Carina’s voice is gone, allowing her true nature to emerge. The woman standing before me is callous, manipulative and quite possibly unhinged. I stare into lifeless green eyes, too dark with cruelty.

  “It’s time to prepare a welcome for Dorian.” Carina says, tossing a brown paper bag to me.

  The bag falls to the floor, dumping the contents at my feet. Carina motions with the gun for me to pick them up. One by one, the sight of eac
h item strikes a blow, rendering me motionless.

  “Pick them up.” She sneers.

  Imagining what she intends to do with a ball gag, handcuffs and blindfold, has my hands trembling with dread.

  “Don’t worry pet, we won’t start the fun until Dorian arrives.”

  “You don’t have to do this Carina.” I try to appeal to her humanity, hoping she has even an ounce of kindness in her heart. “You still have time to walk away, before anyone gets hurt.”

  “Begging won’t help you. I gave you a warning, you chose to ignore it. Now you can die with the consequences.”

  “What are you going to do to Dorian?”

  “Your concern for him is touching, but my plans for Dorian is none of your goddamn business. He’s mine.”

  In her anger is where she hides her true feelings, and if I’m reading her correctly, she doesn’t intend to harm Dorian. Somehow that knowledge makes me bold and possibly stupid enough to taunt her.

  “It doesn’t matter what your plans are for Dorian, he will never be with you again in any way.”

  She flinches, letting me know my words have hit a nerve.

  “Do you really think sexually abusing a child will ever lead to your happily ever after? That story only ends with unhappiness.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Carina shouts.

  Snatching the brown paper bag from my hand, she removes the handcuffs and the ball gag.

  “On your knees.” She orders.

  I kneel slowly, never taking my eyes off her. To say I don’t trust Carina is an understatement.

  “Hands behind your back.”

  Metal cuffs circle my right wrist first, followed by the left. With the handcuffs securing my hands behind my back. Carina places the ball gag in my mouth, fastening the leather straps at the back of my head. I watch as she removes the last item from the paper bag, a blindfold. She covers my eyes, robbing me of my sight.

  “Now we wait.”

  Carina’s voice is made more ominous by the darkness. I would give anything to not have Dorian feel responsible for Carina’s actions. He deserves to be free of the guilt and shame she brought into his life. He deserves better than what she has planned for him.

  Chapter 23

  Dorian

  ALTHOUGH I NEVER WANT to hurt Olivia again, makeup sex is fucking awesome. However, coming home to her feels so much better. The opportunity to make my fantasy a reality came today. The conference call was the perfect excuse to have her drive back to my place after work and wait for me. I didn’t realize how badly I want this until the helicopter lands on the roof of the beach house. I’m eager to experience everything it means to come home to the woman I love. Now that I have her back, I’ll never let her go. I can’t imagine a life without her.

  Descending the stairs from the roof top, I enter the house from the deck. It’s eerily quiet, not at all what I was expecting. There’s no sign of Olivia or Winston. I call out to Olivia, when she doesn’t respond, panic floods my veins with adrenaline. Racing up the stairs, I take them three at a time. Rationally, I know it’s possible Olivia simply didn’t hear me and maybe she didn’t hear the helicopter landing. However, emotionally my heart is telling me Olivia is in trouble and she needs me.

  When I reach the top of the stairs the bedroom door is closed, but there’s nothing unusual about that. Fear of what I might find behind the closed door, paralyze me for a nanosecond. Mentally, I try to prepare myself for the worst, before opening the door. My heart skips a beat, finding Olivia kneeling, bound and gagged with Carina holding a gun to her head.

  “I’m home,” I say to a blindfolded Olivia.

  She gives me a slight nod of acknowledgement.

  “Welcome home, Dorian.” Carina’s voice drags my attention away from Olivia.

  I lay eyes on Carina for the first time in more than thirteen years. At nearly fifty years old, her chin length red hair shows no sign of graying. And her emerald green eyes are dark and as focus as I remember.

  “Let Olivia go.” I command. “You gain nothing by harming her.”

  “Not until after the scene. I wrote a big finale for her.”

  “If you hurt her I...”

  “If you want to keep your pet, she needs to be trained.” Carina interrupts.

  “I will never let you hurt Olivia the way you hurt me.”

  “You will do as you’re told.” Carina barks, turning the gun on me. “And you will enjoy it like you always have.”

  I keep my hands down at my side, refusing to surrender by holding them up. Carina will never have my submission again.

  Olivia stirs from her position on the floor, and I notice the tears sliding down her cheeks under the blindfold. The sight of her in distress gives the fourteen-year old boy in me the courage to standup for them both.

  “It wasn’t enjoyment I felt.” The words hang in the air, no longer stifled by shame. “Physical and sexual abuse of a minor is not the same as a relationship between consenting adults. It’s not even the same as a Dominant/submissive relationship. I never gave you my consent. You forced my submission.”

  “That maybe how it started, but don’t you dare lie and tell me you didn’t enjoy our games.”

  “My body responded to sexual stimulation and mental conditioning. And I hated myself for being a weak coward.”

  “I know about the Asylum. We can be together now, my little gray wolf.”

  “Don’t you fucking call me that.”

  Hearing Carina use the nickname my mother gave me, enrages me. Taking a step forward, I fight the impulse to strangle the life out of her.

  “Is it because you don’t think your parents, or your uncle would approve? They’re not here anymore, we’re all that’s left and I’m sure they would want us to be happy.”

  My gaze moves from Carina to Olivia. “I am happy. Despite what you did to me I’m happy.”

  “I won’t allow her to come between us. I’ve worked too hard to get you back. I won’t lose you to your goddamn pet.”

  Carina turn the gun back to Olivia and I panic, promising her everything if she will just let Olivia go free.

  “Please CeCe,” I beg, if you ever cared about me don’t do this. Please don’t hurt her, I will do whatever you want.” My head bow under the weight of the truth. I will do anything to save Olivia, sacrifice everything to ensure her safety.

  “You haven’t called me CeCe since Peter died.”

  For a fleeting moment, warmth and compassion hides the pain in Carina’s eyes. I see the love she still has for my uncle. And a part of me shares the pain of her loss.

  “My uncle wouldn’t want this for you.”

  “I miss him so much,” Carina confesses.

  “I miss him too.”

  “Peter and I were happy, just the two of us. We felt bad for you when your parents died, and he wanted to be there for you. How could he have known you would take over every aspect of our lives? When your career replaced our dreams, I hated you. I hated your parents and I hated the fucking pilot. I watched my husband struggle to keep up with the demands of your career. He knew we couldn’t replace your parents, so he thought he had to work harder to prove himself. When he became ill, I begged him to stop. I begged him to send you to Germany before he worked himself into an early grave. And when he died, I knew I would never forgive you.”

  I listen as Carina blames me for the death of my uncle and all the misfortunes of her life. And I didn’t flinch when she confessed her hatred. However, when she fires the gun, before I’m able to reach Olivia, my heart stops beating.

  Olivia slumps over, moaning around the ball gag. Her black T-shirt deceives me, hiding the blood flowing from her chest. With lightning speed, I remove the ball gag, blindfold and handcuffs.

  “Don’t leave me, Sunshine.” I repeat again and again.

  Sprinting to the bathroom, I grab a towel to apply pressure to her wound.

  “Keep your hand here, Sunshine.” I instruct.

  “Okay.” Olivia’s raspy
voice is music to my ears.

  Placing her hand over her chest, Olivia presses the towel firmly over the wound. She manages to hold it in place for a few seconds before passing out.

  “Now you’ll know what it actually feels like to lose everything.”

  Moments later a second shot rings out and Carina falls to the floor. I spare a glance at her lifeless body, turning away when vacant eyes stare back at me.

  Lifting Olivia into my arms, I hurry down the stairs to the garage. Once I’ve secured Olivia’s seatbelt, I climb behind the wheel of the nearest car, Olivia’s Mercedes. On route to the hospital I call emergency service to report the shootings. I also call my attorney, insisting that he meet me at the hospital.

  Traffic violations pile up as I race to the nearest hospital. Offering up a prayer to whatever higher power is listening, I beg them not to take Olivia from me. She fills the emptiness I've felt for most of my life. She’s the salvation for all my sins. I can’t lose her now.

  Bringing the car to a screeching halt, I jump out to lift Olivia from the passenger seat. Medical personnel dash toward me as I make my way to the emergency entrance.

  “She’s been shot in the upper left chest,” I hastily relay. “And she’s been unconscious for about fifteen minutes.”

  The doctor does a quick on the spot examination of Olivia’s injury.

  “There’s no exit wound. The bullet is still lodged inside her chest.”

  A gurney seems to appear out of thin air. The doctors race past the emergency room reception to an unauthorized area.

  “Sir.‘ A young woman calls out to me. “You can’t go back there.”

  I pause, defeated by my utter uselessness.

  “What can I do?”

  The happiness I felt hours ago gives way to the pain strangling me and I don’t recognize my own voice.

  “You can start by giving me as much information about her as you can. And if you’re up to it you can donate blood.”