by B. B. Reid
I could have Mian.
She was a girl I craved.
A girl I didn’t deserve.
A girl I’d crumble mountains to keep.
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” The truth was my priorities were changing fast.
“But your family—”
“They’ll kill me. I know.” If ever the Bandit failed to protect the legacy, by death he would be dethroned as the Knight. Reginald would make sure he was the one to take my life so he would inherit as well as his sons after him. He has been itching to take back what he claims is rightfully his. The feud between our lines started when my great-grandfather took over as the Knight after Archibald, Reginald’s great-grandfather, tried to sell the book for profit.
“This whole legacy bullshit is seriously fucked!” Z seethed. I kept silent. I didn’t agree with many of my family’s practices but going against them would mean forfeiting the throne. A rule under Reginald would guarantee the downfall of the Knights. His entire line had been fueled only by greed and cowardice.
“How much do we tell Mian?”
“We tell her the truth. The plan doesn’t work without her trust.”
Lucas and Z weren’t able to hide their surprise before schooling their expressions again. “She might run,” Z pointed out.
“She might run even if we don’t,” Lucas argued. I nodded while hiding my surprise that he agreed with my plan.
Mian’s trust in my ability to protect her was lost because of fear I helped cause. “We’re a long way from Chicago, and every inch of the grounds is guarded to keep the senator out and her in. She’s not going anywhere.”
“When do we make the deal?” Lucas questioned.
I walked to the bar and pulled out a glass before pouring a drink and tossing it back. “Staten called from a private number. He wants to do this on his terms.”
It didn’t matter. His terms or mine, Staten and his piece of shit son were going to die.
“So then we wait,” Z murmured and emptied his glass.
* * *
I RETURNED TO my bedroom and found them just as I had left them. I was partially relieved that Mian hadn’t woken up. I wanted to avoid the questions and the fight we still needed to have for just a few more hours.
For Mian, I felt rage, possessiveness, and desire. When morning would finally come, I was afraid of which emotion would take dominance. I walked over to the crib and was surprised to find the baby awake and babbling quietly to himself. When he saw me, he showed off all four of his tiny teeth before crawling to the rails and pulling himself up. He held his arms out to me, but before I could pick him up at his request, he fell on his butt. The diaper cushioned his fall, and he seemed not to even notice. I watched transfixed as he carefully pulled himself up again using the rails and held out his arms to me again. He wobbled but kept his balance this time. My throat felt clogged as I lifted him from the crib.
“It’s past your bedtime, kid. Playtime is over.”
“No.” He squealed and laughed as he smiled up at me, and I couldn’t help but return the favor. I never grasped his effect on me—or why I didn’t run away from it.
“You and your mother had quite an adventure, huh?” He babbled sounds that were strangely starting to sound like words as I sat us in the bronze love seat facing the bed. “She would have made me chase her to the end of the world to protect you.” He trained blue eyes that haunted me on his sleeping mother as if he understood.
My phone’s rhythmic vibration in my pocket alerted me to a phone call. I secured my arm around the baby as I dug it out. The screen flashed a private number as it continued to vibrate. A cold feeling rushed through my veins as I stabbed the green button.
“I don’t have time for games,” I seethed into the phone. I felt Caylen flinch in my arms at my sudden change in tone. He didn’t cry, but his attention was no longer on his sleeping mother. He watched me now with uncertainty in his father’s eyes. It should have been enough to make me hate him, but the connection he shared with his mother drew me to him.
“I trust you’ve made your decision then?”
I stared into Caylen’s eyes and didn’t hesitate. “When and where?”
“On a night of my choosing, my men will escort Ms. Ross and her child from your home to an undisclosed location. They will release your book to you once they are safely out of your gates with Ms. Ross.”
“How do you know—”
“I know everything about this state, Mr. Knight. It’s my job,” he reminded unnecessarily. “We wouldn’t want your family’s lovely estate tarnished with blood because you tried to double cross me, would we?”
His threat didn’t hit its mark, but I made sure mine would. “Make no mistake, the blood that will cover my walls won’t be my own. Sleep tight, Senator… but you better leave one eye open. You never know what’s hiding under the bed.”
I ended the call and put Caylen back in his crib. He’d started to fuss, and I knew it was me who had upset him. Before I walked away, I covered him with a blanket. “Time for bed, kid.”
It was a few minutes before he finally gave in and slept. I slid into bed and made the split decision to pull Mian close until her front was flush with mine. Her eyes opened just a crack, and her unfocused green eyes found me in the dark. There was a moment of clarity before her eyes drifted shut once more and her body relaxed against mine. I listened to her breathing before I touched my lips to her ear and whispered.
Chapter Thirteen
MIAN
“YOU WANT ME to fight this war to keep you? So be it.”
I’d heard the words Angel spoke to me when he thought I was sleeping. I had woken up when I felt arms close around me and a sudden flame of heat as he molded our bodies together. Even though I’d been in a fog of lethargy, I knew it had been Angel holding me. I should have kicked him out of bed, but the safety he offered had been too tempting.
But then he’d whispered those words to me, and I knew I was still living in his illusion.
Now it was morning. Angel was fast asleep. I was able to slip out of his arms and bed without waking him. I was surprised to find the crib I recognized from Art’s home set up only a few feet from the bed. But this was definitely not Art’s home. The large room I unknowingly spent the night in surpassed the wealth and extravagance of his home.
We were back at the Knight estate.
It was a far reach from the dangers hunting me in Chicago, but it was also a far reach from escape. The land Angel now lived on stretched too far to run. On foot, I’d be caught before I made it off.
Shaking off the fear that I’d never escape, I plastered on a smile for my son that fell once I found the crib empty. I didn’t panic. Insanity disguising itself as reason convinced me that Angel wouldn’t hurt Caylen.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep us apart again.
As furtively as I could, I moved to the door. Angel didn’t stir, and his breathing remained even as he slept. Fear that he could be faking it, as I did last night when his threat seeped into my skin and filled my blood with hate, made me pause with my hand over the knob. I waited only a second before making my decision and sneaking from the room. I stood in the middle of the empty hallway wondering where to look first. Far away, I heard voices and then the unmistakable sound of Caylen’s babble. The voices grew louder as I moved closer to the double doors at the end of the hall. I finally reached a set of double doors that were closed. On the other side, I could hear the amused voices of Lucas and Z as they coaxed Caylen into walking.
My hand had only closed around the knob ready to push inside when another hand stronger than mine closed around my wrist and dragged me away.
“What are you doing?” I hissed when Angel turned me to face him.
“You surprised me.” I could hear as much in his tone as he spoke. “I thought you were going to run.”
“Not without my son.” He looked over my shoulder at the closed doors. I expected him to let me go. Instead, he dr
agged me back to the room I’d spent the night in with him. “Let go of me, Angel. I learned to walk when I was ten months old. I don’t need your help.” I tugged to free my wrist, but he only tightened his grip. When we reached the bedroom, he pulled me inside before pulling out a key and locking the door from the inside. I rubbed my wrist over the red mark he had left behind.
“We need to talk,” he demanded. He was always making demands but never giving in to them.
“We have nothing to talk about.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “You tried to kill me.”
“And sadly, you aren’t dead.” His eyes narrowed as his hand fell to his side. He didn’t move or speak after that. I don’t even think he breathed.
“Do you want to do this, Sprite?”
“We’re not doing anything because we’re done. Didn’t your little henchman give you the message? You can’t protect me.”
“The senator would have found you. I did, and he has even more resources at his disposal.”
“Why do you care? I tried to kill you, remember?”
His smile was lethal. “Because you’re my wife… didn’t you know?”
I laughed even as I felt his poison percolating in my veins. “I’m done playing your games, Knight.”
He didn’t respond. With confidence, he walked to his suit jacket crumpled on the thick carpet. I couldn’t hear the warning not to panic over the rapid beat of my heat as he pulled out a piece of paper. He moved in closer than he had been before until he towered over me. “I think you should see something.” He lifted the paper for me to take. I didn’t.
“What is it?”
“The last gift your father gave you. Your future.”
I took the neatly folded paper from his hand with shaking fingers. Curiosity killed the cat. Breaking the red wax seal, I unfolded the cream parchment to reveal a marriage certificate. I felt punched in the gut when I read our names in a scrawl that didn’t belong to either of us. The certificate was dated three years ago. Two days before my life changed forever.
“This is impossible. I was sixteen!”
“Your father signed the consent form and mine generously padded the clerk’s retirement fund since neither of us could attend our own wedding. I imagine he retired early to spend the rest of his years traveling with his wife and taking couple’s painting lessons.”
“You didn’t know?”
He shook his head slowly. “I didn’t just inherit money and land the day I buried my grandfather.”
The meeting after the funeral…
“We’ve been married all this time,” I whispered in disbelief. Rage made me ball up the paper and toss it across the room. Angel’s gaze never left me, even when the lie that was our marriage sailed past his head. “What they did isn’t legal, which means we aren’t married.”
“Maybe not… but who is going to contest it?” he questioned calmly.
“I will,” I growled.
He turned his back on me and walked deeper into the room. “Afraid not, Mrs. Knight. Legally, you are mine. And so is Caylen.”
“His father is alive.”
His chuckle sent chills down my spine. “Not for long.”
“I’ll file for divorce.”
He watched me as he pushed his unbuttoned pants down his legs. “Hidden on every acre of land is a man who will drag you back to me dead or alive at my command. You aren’t going anywhere.”
His cock was impossibly hard as he closed the distance between us. I tried to keep a grasp on reality, but the desire was waging war with my head. “Victor said I wasn’t supposed to marry you until I was eighteen. Why didn’t he know about the marriage?”
“My father stopped trusting Victor long before he died.” I felt as if I were going to drown when he crowded his large body in my space so I sucked in as much air as I could and held it. “He only told Victor what he trusted him to know, which wasn’t much.”
“But the contract said—”
He snorted as he lifted my sweater over my head. “Our fathers, on the other hand, trusted each other implicitly. There was no contract in the written sense. They gave their word that I would have you and you would have my protection when you turned eighteen. To them, it was more than any legal contract.” His hands fell to my jeans and with skillful fingers, slid the button free.
“Something happened to make them marry us sooner than they had planned. You aren’t curious to know what it was?” He pushed my jeans down my legs as he’d done his.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s done. We’re married, and nothing but death can reverse it.” He pushed his chest against me until my back hit the wall. Without warning, his hand slid inside my cotton panties, and I gasped when his skilled fingers skimmed my clit. “You’ve always been mine. I just wish I hadn’t lost three years,” he whispered against my lips. I shuddered as he pushed his finger inside me. “You’ll always be ready for daddy, won’t you?” I was so goddamn wet. His thumb brushed against my clit as he added a second finger, and I learned it wasn’t by accident when he circled my clit and drove his fingers deep. Wrapping a hand around his neck, I rode his fingers. “So sweet and so willing.”
I fought to get closer. I knew it was wrong for me to like his touch, but the feeling he stirred deep inside me felt so right. I felt grounded even when I was flying high.
“There’s no price I won’t pay to keep you, Mrs. Knight.” I started to come just as he kissed my lips and drove his fingers deeper so his palm cupped my pussy. He forced my tongue to mate with his as my body came apart under his command. When my last whimper subsided, he gripped my soaked panties in both hands and tore it down the middle. I gaped down in shock as he let the scraps fall to the floor at our feet.
“Why did you do that?” I forced between pants. I wasn’t talking about my ruined panties. Shame coursed through my veins as I leaned against the wall in order to stay upright.
“Because, wife, I don’t need to tell you who you belong to. You show me every time I touch you.”
“That’s not true.”
“The way you came on my fingers says differently.” Crudely, he slipped the fingers he used to expose me past his lips as he watched me hungrily.
“You’re disgusting,” I spat to hide how turned on I was.
“And you taste amazing.” He stepped back, and the phantom grip on my lungs eased the further he moved away. “Join me in the shower,” he ordered over his shoulder. I didn’t move. I had no intentions of showering with him. He disappeared into the bathroom, and I listened as the sound of running water soon followed. “You have about twelve seconds left before I come get you,” he shouted over the running water.
I thought about making a run for it before I remembered he had locked us in. With only six seconds left, I quickly searched his suit pockets for the key but came up empty.
“Looking for this?” He stood in the door of the bathroom, wearing a smug grin, and holding the key in his hand. Neither of us spoke as he stalked across the room. I didn’t cower, and his grin grew into a full-blown smile as he lifted me bridal style and carried me to the shower.
* * *
AFTER WE had showered, he gave me one of his shirts that fell to my knees and led me by the hand back to the sitting room. Caylen was no longer in a playing mood when we found him. He sat on the floor crying as Lucas and Z stood over him with startled faces.
“He just started crying!” Twiddle Dee accused. I shook my head at Lucas and picked up my hungry, red-faced son.
“Did either of you consider feeding him?” I hid my amusement when the light bulb flickered on and their faces relaxed. “I need my bag,” I said to Angel, who shook his head as soon as I spoke.
“There’s food in the kitchen. I’ll take you.” I decided not to argue when my son’s cries threatened to blow my eardrums. Arguing would only take longer to feed Caylen, so I followed him downstairs. Each room was never more than a few steps away in our rundown apa
rtment. The estate, however, was like a small city with walls built around it to keep us “safe.”
As we made our way to the kitchen, I noticed the staff working in harmony. They dusted, wiped, and rushed from room to room to complete their tasks. It must take a small army to keep a place this size polished and running smoothly. I could easily get lost if I wanted to. The house wasn’t any less intimidating without the music or finely dressed guests or Angel’s grandfather. If anything, the silence was haunting.
The enormous kitchen was made up of stainless steel and white marble. Angel had, at his disposal, appliances fit for a world-renowned chef. He moved around the kitchen pulling pots from carefully selected spots and ingredients for breakfast from the largest pantry I’d ever seen.
“All of this is a bit much for just one person, isn’t it?”
He set a bowl of applesauce in front of me with a spoon as he answered blandly, “I’m fully expected to produce an heir and plenty of back up heirs.”
“What about heiresses?” I challenged as I fed Caylen.
“You tell me,” he said, wiping the smirk off my face. His burning gaze met mine when I looked up. “Would you want that?”
I laughed to disguise my uneasiness. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I?”
“I won’t have your baby,” I denied with less aplomb. “This marriage isn’t real.” My gaze dropped to my empty finger. It was the only evidence I had that my father didn’t betray me.
“Your father has had ample time to figure out his biggest regret in life.” He turned the silver knob on the stove, turning on the flame, and setting a frying pan on top. “Are you curious to know the answer?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“You,” he answered without hesitation. He removed bacon from the packaging and placed the slices in the pan. “He doesn’t regret not choosing you, Sprite. He just regrets you.”
“Your parents didn’t love you enough,” I countered. “I get it. It made you sad, so I’ll excuse your ignorance, but my father loves me.”
