by Lana Sky
His laugh suggests his words are in jest. But I know that look glinting in his dark eyes. It takes a backstabbing cuck to know a backstabbing cuck.
“I prefer Lorenz,” I tell him while shaking his hand. “Blake Lorenz.”
“Ah…” His eyes narrow, intensifying their stealthy scrutiny. “You wouldn’t happen to be of the Frankfurt Lorenz’s?”
“That’s the one.” I force a cold smile. “My father would be pleased to know that his humble reputation has reached all the way to the States.”
“Humble?” The man guffaws so hard he damn near falls off his chair. “Given the way your family has overtaken Europe I’m not surprised Hollings enterprises were your next conquest.”
He’s equal parts impressed and alarmed. As he should be.
“But there is the question of that messy merger situation back in your country. What’s the company again?” He pretends to mull it over, but his eyes are too sharp for true ignorance. “H.E.T.Z Corp? Run by Hanz Zipler, I think? Now there is a ruthless son of a bitch. Wasn’t he married to your—”
“Are we bringing gossip to the boardroom now?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“N-No.” The man’s cheeks redden, but like a dog with a bone, he digs in. “Though Zipler, he had a big share of your family’s company, didn’t he? Nearly half.”
I flash a smile that makes the bastard gulp. “In my experience, a businessman’s fortunes can change at the snap of an even more ruthless man’s fingers.”
And Zipler’s is already between my thumb and fucking forefinger. Case and point: we’re at the top of the Hollings building. My building. The entire world is exposed below from beyond floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything from the waterlogged harbor to the endless jungle of skyscrapers clawing at the sky. The entire world: that’s how people like the Hollings view this lone city. Any other destination is a mere detour, a pretty spot on the map. This place is where their heart lies; the proverbial nest of the snake.
“I thought it was time to try my hand at entering the American markets.” I deliberately copy the man’s callous tone.
He nods. “I can see that. Jacob Marshall, at your service.”
The other men take turns introducing themselves not that I give a damn to remember them all. They sit at this table, in these chairs and dare to look at me like an outsider.
While they dallied in corporate offices, I cut my milk teeth on the walls of this building. Harrison Lloyd may not have been my biological father, but his blood, sweat and tears formed its very foundation. The layout may have changed and the furniture more modern, but at its core this entire fucking complex is the same.
Minus the name: I bet that motherfucker couldn’t wait to drop the Lloyd surname from it.
“Blake?”
I flinch at the voice. It’s not Emily’s, my usual assistant. Fuck. Lurching forward, I hone my gaze on the figure at the door and bite down a curse.
Sure enough, Masha has her head stuck through a small crack in the door, her cheeks flushed pink. The other men watch on, barely concealing their amusement and curiosity. I catch one of them eyeing her bare legs and I have to remind myself of one thing: still need his signature. Can’t kill him.
“What is it?” I demand, fighting to keep my tone level.
She lowers her head contritely, her voice so faint I have to strain to hear her, “I need to speak with you.”
“Oh.” Any irritation I felt instantly dies. Masha knows better than to interrupt me for anything other than matters concerning two people.
The first has avoided me for two damn months, ignoring every call and letter sent her way.
And the second...
“Well gentlemen,” I say, flexing my fingers against the table, hard enough so each knuckle cracks, “I think we should cut this meeting short. I’ll be expecting your approval of the donation however.”
A second’s pause gives any fucker the chance to argue.
No one does.
Standing, I lead the way to the door as they scramble behind me. Masha is the only one who follows me wordlessly into my office across the hall.
“What is it?” I ask, approaching the large oak desk dominating the center of the room.
Facing me, she lowers her gaze, her lips pursed. She’s practically swimming in the dress I bought her, wringing her hands nervously over the navy, businesslike frock. With her blond hair scraped into a bun and little makeup, the average onlooker might peg her at sixteen—at the most. Not nearly twenty-one.
Her lips tremble, fighting to coax out words, but she doesn’t even have to fucking say it.
“He contacted you again.” My hands curl into fists and the closest victim is the wall. Bang! My knuckles sear as they meet the polished wood. Once. Twice. Again. Blood streaks my fingers when I finally unclench them. “That son of a bitch—”
“He wants me back,” she says, almost in a whisper. Her tormentor needs no introduction. Only one bastard can make her sound this hollow. This empty. “He said… Blake, he’d forgive the debt if I come back.”
“That same old lie,” I remind her. “And I told you. I would handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to!” Her voice is too flat to hold any real emotion so she raises her shaking hands instead. Unsteady, they claw at her neatly arranged hair, ripping strands from the coif. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Enough!” Irritation makes my tone harsher than I intend. “He was my goddamn father too.”
The original Blake Lorenz: a man I barely knew, who both saved my life and shackled me to his in the same fell swoop. As a Lorenz, I’m freed from the taint of the Lloyd name.
But my real father had his own demons—a crushing load of silent debt so vast it was basically a death sentence. A burden he gladly shouldered, right to the grave. Anything to save his only daughter.
I could only hope to match his selfless devotion.
But I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.
“No,” I hiss, meeting Masha’s gaze directly. “You’re not going back to him. I already have Hollings enterprises and this week alone we’ve incorporated four smaller corporations.”
“But it isn’t enough,” she says, shrugging her thin shoulders. “Unless you consume every company in the whole city it will never be enough.”
“I told you not to worry yourself about that. You leave the business to me.” Gritting my teeth, I add, “Want me to make it easier? You don’t have a choice—”
“Don’t I?” She’s jutting her chin into the air, her jaw tight. “You’ve already lost so much because of me.”
“Lost?” I nod to the windows and survey the view, shutting out the grim reality for a thundering heartbeat. The world of the Hollingses lies outstretched before me, kissed by the pinkish glow of mid-morning. “It looks like we’ve gained to me,” I say. “You need a city? I’ll buy this one, and then another. However many it fucking takes.”
“And what about Snowy Hollings?”
Her name is like a fucking switch. One flick of it and my entire perspective on the world changes. For the worse—power is a simple goal, easily obtained.
But Snow? What I want from her can’t be granted via a simple board meeting. Or with money, apparently, considering that in two months she has yet to accept the amount I offered her.
Suddenly drained, I collapse into the leather chair behind my desk. There’s a stack of envelopes lying there, along with messy piles of paper.
The irony is a bitter pill to swallow. Once, she claimed to have given me her truth through her letters.
And I can’t write a single goddamn one to explain mine. “Don’t mention her,” I finally muster the energy to reply. “Don’t—”
“What happened to her family… It’s my fault. You did that because of me—”
“No.” I turn to my desk and swipe my hand over the surface, knocking everything on it to the floor. “It was never about you.”
Always her. Beautiful, fiery princess Snow. Once, before Masha, I w
ould have given her the world. I promised it to her.
“One day I’m going to live in the heart of Mayfield,” she used to boast. “Right in the center! And I’d want a throne, of course. Red, placed perfectly to take in my servants.”
“Stop worrying.” I banish Snow with a shake of my head and stand. Masha trembles when I cross over to her, wrapping her in my arms. Mouth against her hair, I swear, “I won’t ever let him hurt you again. Ever—”
“It would be easier if you sent me back,” she insists, her face buried against my chest. “It would.”
“But I won’t,” I say, gripping her tighter. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Just promise me one thing.” Her small hands find mine and pry them from her waist, intertwining our fingers. “Just one thing.”
I nod. “Anything.”
“Promise me you won’t hurt her again. Snowy. Please—”
“I promise.” A part of me twinges, knowing deep down that it’s a lie.
Snow can run for now. Hide away. Ignore me.
But her company was just the start. Child’s play.
She was always the real prize—and some way, some goddamn how I’ll make her see reason. I’ll get her back, as easily as another fucking business.
Only this time, I won’t ever let her go.
A Word from the Author
Hey there!
* * *
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed the story, please leave a review and recommend the book to any friend you think would love this twisted world. You’d have my eternal gratitude. Even a short sentence goes a long way!
* * *
Then, come join the rest of us dark romance lovers in my Facebook Group where you can get snippets, sneak peeks of upcoming books and even help vote on aspects of future novels.
Come to the dark side
* * *
WANT MORE STUFF TO READ?
* * *
Join my newsletter and get a free book! Plus, you get to stay updated with any new releases, random giveaways and exclusive sneak peeks!
https://www.lanaskybooks.com/newsletter
* * *
Other Novels:
https://lanaskybooks.com/books/
About the Author
Lana Sky is a reclusive writer in the United States who spends most of her time daydreaming about complex male characters and legless cats. She writes mostly paranormal romance, in between watching reruns of Ab Fab and drinking iced tea. Only iced tea.
Other Novels:
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
* * *
SAVAGE FALL DUET:
King’s Men
* * *
THE MORE TREACHEROUS THE LIE…
* * *
Ten years ago, Snowy Hollings did the unthinkable: she betrayed the love of her life.
* * *
Now, when her family's fortune is decimated overnight, the popular socialite is in for a rude awakening: you reap what you sow.
* * *
…THE HARDER THE FALL.
* * *
Mysterious newcomer Blake Lorenz despises everything that Snowy Hollings stands for--and he's determined to destroy her piece by piece.
* * *
When all is said and done, this ruthless corporate king will stop at nothing to torment the redheaded beauty.
* * *
She had it coming, after all.
* * *
And, when he's through, she'll be lucky if there's anything left to ever make whole again.
* * *
SAVAGE FALL DUET:
King’s Horses
* * *
THE HARDER THE FALL…
* * *
Ten years ago, Snowy Hollings betrayed the love of her life…
Or did she?
Blake Lorenz has finally broken the Hollings heiress but revenge doesn’t taste quite as sweet as he’d hoped. And as the murky depths of his past begin to come to light, the more he’s forced to realize that he may have made a grave mistake.
* * *
…THE MORE BRUTAL THE REDEMPTION.
* * *
Destitute and disillusioned, Snowy is trying her best to piece her broken heart back together. But Blake isn’t the only man on her trail, desperate to claim her.
* * *
No good deed goes unpunished, after all.
* * *
And the truth has a way of destroying even the most resilient of hearts…
* * *
BDSM BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE
* * *
XXX MAXIM:
SUBMIT
* * *
Pain is the most potent drug and Frankie Marconi is addicted to the burning sting of it. Maxim Koslov, a deranged crime lord with a tormented past, is more than willing to deliver the dose she needs.
* * *
But when lust becomes obsession, Frankie begins to realize that there is only one way out of this dangerous game of Russian Roulette...
* * *
And Maxim never loses.
* * *
XXX MAXIM:
OBEY
* * *
Under the dangerous Maxim Koslov's spell, Frankie Marconi finds herself falling deeper and deeper into a world of violence and sin. But the rabbit hole of chaos can only go so far. When cruel reality threatens her cocoon of pain, can she rely on Maxim to help her withstand the onslaught?
* * *
Or will she goad him into finally ending their twisted game...
* * *
Once and for all.
* * *
MAFIA ROMANCE
* * *
Crescendo
* * *
You don't become the fiancé of one of the most powerful mafia bosses in the city without understanding exactly how gritty and depraved the world truly is... and how to thrive in the inferno.
* * *
After five years spent under his controlling thumb, Daniela knows her position with a man like Vincent Stacatto is precarious, but as long as she plays by the rules of his "game", she's safe...
* * *
Until she's taken captive by the devil.
* * *
Kidnapped by a rival crime lord, Daniela becomes a pawn between two powerful forces, and just another casualty in a bloody game of chess. But to get to the top, and stay at the top, you have to fight dirty and hold nothing back, because the most dangerous piece on the board isn't the King.
* * *
It's the queen.
* * *
Refrain
* * *
Some demons have angelic intentions...
* * *
Caught in the middle of a vicious gang war, Espi Vialle is torn between helping a woman with a twisted past or escaping a world of crime he’s ashamed to be a part of.
* * *
But when his own dark choices threaten to destroy what little hope of a future he has left, he’ll have to face his deepest fears and risk becoming the one person who has let him down the most.
* * *
His brother.
* * *
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
* * *
Drain Me
When diagnosed with a fatal illness at the age of twenty-six, Eleanor Gray is resigned to her fate—at least until the enigmatic Dublin Helos appears and makes her an offer she knows she should refuse:
Life or Death?
* * *
With a decision as harmless as checking the wrong box on a mysterious questionnaire, Ellie is plunged into a dangerous world where souls are sold to the highest bidder and pleasure is fueled by pain.
* * *
The rules of this new life are simple: submit everything—mind, body, and soul. But the further Ellie falls under Dublin’s control, the more she comes to realize that it’s not just her sanity at stake, but her heart and a whole lot of blood too.
* * *
OTHER BOOKS
Dirty Lyrics
All’s fair in sex, love, and R
ock N’ Roll.
* * *
Star publicist Abby Newman takes only the roughest, toughest, and naughtiest rock stars under her belt. Her love of bad boys has warranted her a naughty reputation to boot—but her newest client, country crooner Jason Daniels, is anything but. In fact, Jason’s sweet, wholesome image isn’t in need of a cleanup, so Abby can’t understand why he’s so insistent on hiring her.
