Sinful Empire (The Anti-Heroes Collection Book 3)

by Meghan March

  Keira

  I try to bury myself in work, but I can’t. I’m stuck on what Magnolia said and did. I spin around, midway across the floor I’ve been pacing for half an hour, when the door opens.

  It’s the man my best friend made sure I ended up with by using any means necessary. I want to condemn her for lying, but I’m having trouble with my righteous indignation. Lachlan wouldn’t be mine right now without her intervention, but that doesn’t mean my emotions aren’t completely conflicted when it comes to her and her underhanded manipulation.

  He steps into my path, closing his palms around my shoulders. Somehow, the simple touch calms my chaotic emotions by a degree.

  “You should be resting, but you’re in full hellion mode.”

  “You could say that.”

  “I take it you got your answers.”

  I nod.

  “Can you live with them?” His tone is quiet, but not patronizing. I hear what he’s not asking.

  Does this change things between us?

  I meet the dark gaze I’ve come to know almost as well as my own, including how it flares with heat, goes harsh cold, or turns flat when he locks down his emotions. Right now, it’s somewhere in the middle. Cautiously resolved.

  “It doesn’t change anything.”

  The flash of relief is so quick as to be almost indiscernible, but I see it anyway before he carefully pulls me against his body, one arm sliding around my waist and his other hand cradling the back of my head. His lips press against my temple before he speaks, low and firm, into my ear.

  “Good. Because I’m not letting you go now, regardless of how or why we got here.”

  I revel in the strong and steady beat of his heart and soak up the warmth of his body.

  This man is mine. Nothing else matters right now.

  When he finally releases me, I see a new intensity stamped on his face and ask, “What is it?” After the conversation I just had, I brace for something unpleasant.

  “You’re moving back up to our suite. V will take you as soon as the nurse checks you out one more time.”

  Our suite. Not his. Not mine. Ours.

  “That’s definitely preferable to this . . .” I look around the stark white walls and medical equipment. “So, what then? What happens? I know there’s more you’re not telling me.”

  His lips press together as he studies my face like he’s memorizing it. “There’s always more, Keira. There always will be. Some you’ll know, and some you won’t. But we’re going to steal tonight for ourselves, at least for a few hours.”

  “What do you mean?” His statements seem like code, and I don’t have the key.

  “You’ll see. Go with V. He’ll bring you to me when you’re ready.” He lowers his head, consuming the questions that would have fallen from my lips with a quick, hard kiss. “I’ll see you soon, hellion.”

  A smile plays on his lips as he releases me and backs away toward the door. His gaze doesn’t leave my face until the last moment before he turns to leave.

  What is he up to? I latch onto the question, grateful to have something to distract me from everything else.

  The nurse gives me another dose of painkillers and asks me a bunch of questions to check my mental state, then makes an offhand comment about me not hitting my head as hard as she thought.

  I follow V without protest as he leads me through the network of interior hallways that continues to astonish me. Instead of exiting into the suite, we step into the hallway from behind a floor-to-ceiling painting.

  “I swear, this is the coolest place ever.”

  V almost smiles. Almost. It’s more of a twitch of a corner of his mouth as we stop in front of the glossy black doors. He nods down, directing my attention to new hardware on the wall next to them. Some kind of high-tech device. A fingerprint scanner?

  “What is this?”

  He gestures to my hand and to the pad. Taking a wild guess, I lay all four fingers on the glass, and a light turns green and the door unlocks.

  “Whoa. Upping security measures around here?” I turn to look at him, and he nods. “Can you get in?”

  He nods again.

  “How many others?” He raises his hand and holds up his first three fingers. “So, Lachlan and . . .”

  He doesn’t answer, of course, and I decide that it doesn’t matter as long as Lachlan trusts them.

  When I step inside, V doesn’t follow. He shuts the door behind me, and I assume he resumes his guard position outside the door.

  Our suite. It’s the same room, but it feels completely different now. It’s not a prison . . . it’s a haven. This is where Mount can be Lachlan, and we can hide away from the rest of the world.

  The black, white, and gold furnishings no longer strike me as odd, but comforting, because the reasoning he gave for the color scheme is something so completely him that I can’t help but smile.

  Lachlan Mount is a man unlike any other I’ve ever met, and although he’s not the first that I’ve called mine, I hope he’ll be the last.

  I turn in a slow circle and catch sight of a note propped up on a box on the table. My name, in his familiar handwriting, catches my attention.

  What is he up to now?

  I flip the paper open and see what’s written inside.

  Take the box into the bedroom.

  You have an hour to be ready.

  Trust me.

  If it weren’t for those last two words, this note would have felt like all the others. Commanding and cold. But those two words change everything, which is fitting, seeing as how everything has changed.

  I pick up the box that reminds me of the one I found on the bed in my apartment, but my reaction is completely different now.

  Last time, I called Magnolia because I was worried I’d find a body part of a loved one inside, but she talked me off the ledge. Because she had plans for us. I push those thoughts aside, determined not to think of her again tonight.

  Tonight is for Lachlan and me. No one else.

  I lift the box, testing its weight, and walk through the bedroom door as I try to guess the contents. But before I can even begin to speculate, I freeze on the threshold.

  What the hell?

  A ball gown lays spread out on the bed, the skirt hanging over the edge. The crystal-and-sequined bodice is one I know all too well, because it’s the same ball gown I wore that fateful Mardi Gras night for the masquerade.

  “What is he up to?” I voice the question to the empty room and lower the box beside the dress.

  Memories of that night assail my senses as I drag my fingers over the bodice. Flashes of heat burst through my body as the details come rushing back for what seems like the millionth time.

  I lift the lid off the box and peel back the tissue. On top is the mask I wore that night. Maybe I should be surprised, but I’m not. If he were able to get the dress, he could obviously get the mask.

  I place the mask on the bed and unfold more tissue to find a replacement of the thong he snapped from my body before he showed me exactly who owned it, and a pair of gorgeous stilettos.

  Saliva pools in my mouth because I’m beginning to see where this is going. We’re getting a do-over. I don’t know why, but I don’t care either. If I had to choose one night I could relive over and over, it would be that one.

  When I remove the thong and the new shoes, which are way sexier and more expensive than the ones I wore before, I find a note at the bottom of the box.

  Say nothing. Take everything.

  It’s a play on the words of the note I’d sent the night of the masquerade ball, and my pulse hammers against my throat in anticipation.

  Whatever he has planned, I’m ready.

  Keira

  I stand in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom and tie on my mask, staring back at a different woman than the one who wore it before.

  The last time I knotted these silk ribbons, I was anxious, but excited. Hopeful, but fearful. Optimistic, yet full of doubt. Tonig
ht, I’m filled with a confidence I never knew was possible, and it’s not due to the final box that I found on the bathroom counter, although that contained yet another surprise.

  It was about six inches square and three inches tall. When I opened it, I found a tiara fit for a princess—no, a queen—resting on black velvet.

  “You’ve been the queen from day one. The most powerful piece on the whole fucking board.”

  I lower my arms to my sides and study my reflection. Even with a few cuts and bruises, I look like a queen tonight, and I’m ready for my king.

  A smile, one full of confidence and conviction, crosses my face, and I turn away from the mirror. I cross our suite until I reach the outer door and unlock it.

  V waits patiently outside for me. When he turns, his eyes widen, and for the first time ever, a true smile softens his harsh features. I can’t help but wonder what fate Lachlan saved him from, because I have no doubt that his loyalty springs from something I can’t begin to imagine.

  “I think I did okay in an hour, don’t you?”

  I don’t know why I ask him. I already know that despite being a little banged up, I look good. My red hair curls in silky waves down my back, and the tiara rests perfectly on my head. Then there’s the confidence I feel—it puts a golden shine on everything.

  V nods and holds out an arm like a proper gentleman, and I lay my hand on it. He escorts me back to the floor-to-ceiling picture, and it slides aside when he engages the mechanism. He leads me by the hand up and down and around corners until another hidden door opens into a dimly lit room done in all gold and white.

  It’s a . . . ballroom, complete with more ornate versions of the sconces I’ve seen in the hallways, but also chandeliers dripping with crystal, lending a low, romantic light to the room. It’s not the size of the Beauty and the Beast ballroom, but smaller, like it’s for more intimate affairs. It reminds me of the interior of the Roosevelt Hotel, all gold gilt and marble out of another era. I can picture flappers dancing and drinking champagne with men in tails.

  V lowers his arm and points toward one set of drapes that reach up to the ceiling. They’re at least twenty feet long.

  “Is that where he is?” I ask, nodding toward the drapes. I assume they hide some kind of alcove, if what we’re doing is recreating the night of the masquerade.

  V shakes his head, but lifts up a finger.

  “One minute?” I ask, attempting to interpret his rudimentary sign language.

  He nods again.

  My heart, already thumping, kicks up as adrenaline rushes into my blood and I head toward the curtains. As I sneak through the small gap, the light turns into a rainbow of colors from a bowed window and a railing in front of it. It’s some kind of internal balcony, offering a view of a glowing courtyard through stained glass, lit by the nearly full moon.

  The stained glass turns this little refuge into something out of a fantasy.

  What is this place? I grip the railing, listening as V’s footsteps recede, filled with equal parts wonder and anticipation as I wait for Lachlan to join me.

  I don’t hear him. I never do. But my skin prickles with awareness as the curtain behind me opens wider for a moment before closing completely.

  I bite my lip to stop myself from speaking, and lock my fingers around the railing to keep myself from turning around.

  No longer do I follow his instructions out of fear, but for a completely different reason.

  Love.

  Mount

  Standing in a darkened corner, I watch her walk into the opposite end of the ballroom. I lurk in the shadows, which is where I live my life, where I’ve always been content. It’s where I belong. But Keira, she belongs in the light.

  Somehow, I’ll find a way to make this work, because anything less is not an option.

  Her lack of hesitation, sure stride, and straight shoulders send every signal that this is exactly what she wants.

  She has never cowered before me. Not even the first night in the library where she threw off her trench coat and defied me with that henna tattoo.

  But this is different from not cowering. Keira Kilgore has finally come completely into her own. She’s the most magnificent woman I’ve ever seen. Hands that have been bloodstained as often as mine have no business touching her, but I’m not letting her go. Ever.

  I cross the room silently, a skill I acquired long ago out of necessity and now employ for my own purposes. With a flick of my wrist, I move the curtain aside and step inside to where there’s no shadows, no pale white light, but a rainbow of colors.

  Maybe that’s where we belong.

  Not in the shadows. Not in the light. But somewhere completely unique to us.

  I shut the drapes behind me, sealing us inside. Her muscles tense, but not like she wants to run. No, it’s pure anticipation . . . at least, I assume so because that’s what’s running through my blood.

  Despite my earlier injuries, I’m feeling no pain. Not when I look at her. I shouldn’t take her tonight; I know that. I should wait until she’s fully healed, but I don’t have the luxury of time right now.

  Tonight, I have to right the wrongs of the past and forge a new memory.

  I step closer, drawn to the fiery red hair that matches her temper, loving how she stills in anticipation. Instead of being transported back to that night, the night she thought I was someone else, I stay firmly fixed in the present.

  Because tonight, she knows exactly who I am.

  I close the remaining distance between us and sweep her hair to the side, satisfaction filling me when I see the crown on her head. She deserves all the jewels, and likely has no idea that the emeralds winking in the white-gold setting are real.

  No more pretenses. No more imitations. Everything from today forward is as real as it gets.

  Keira Kilgore is mine.

  Keira

  Goose bumps prickle along my bare skin in anticipation. When Lachlan’s mouth closes over that exact spot, the one where my shoulder meets my neck, a moan breaks free from my lips. My nipples peak against the bodice of the dress, and my clit pulses wildly, enhanced by my piercing.

  I don’t know how my body can react to him so quickly, but it does. He barely has to touch me to set me on fire.

  When he drags his teeth up the tendon of my neck, my fingers flex on the railing and I force myself not to let go. He nips my earlobe and I drop my head back, resting it against his shoulder. A gesture of surrender. Submission.

  He tastes every inch of my bared skin before balling my skirt up and reaching around me to cup between my legs. A growl rumbles in his throat when he finds me already wet.

  The sound that used to equally frighten and arouse me now causes goose bumps to form as he thumbs my piercing. I shudder as pleasure riots through me.

  Any pain from earlier, including the headache that hounded me all day, has disappeared completely. I don’t know if it’s the man, the painkillers, or the sensations already flooding my body, but I’m ready for everything he has to give.

  His palm slides up until his fingers wrap around the waistband of my thong, snapping it just like he did before. But this time it’s so much better, because I know exactly what’s coming.

  Lachlan’s hands close over mine on the railing, squeezing them tight, as if reminding me not to move them. I push my ass into the hard bulge at his crotch as my assent. And as a way to urge him on.

  His hands are gone as quickly as they appeared, and then one finger spears inside me, stealing another moan.

  The hiss of his zipper follows before the head of his cock nudges against my opening. He presses inside just an inch, and stills. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for, but I turn my head just enough to meet his eyes, lit by the brilliant colors in a way I’ve never seen them before.

  Maybe it’s fate that I’m seeing him in a completely new light.

  His gaze flares with heat as his lips cover mine. I’m still captivated by his stare when he pushes inside me, one inch at a time. Slo
wly. Carefully. But still filling me so full, there’s no doubt to whom I belong.

  Lachlan Mount owns me—body, heart, and soul.

  Mount

  Unlike on that night that changed both our lives, I take her slowly, in absolutely no hurry, and with more care than ever before. Not only because of the injuries we both sustained, but because tonight is different, no matter how similarly it started. Everything has changed.

  As her muscles clamp down, I finally let her push me over the edge.

  When I pull my cock free from her body, I turn her around, letting the skirt of her dress fall as I fix my pants and lift my gaze to her flushed face. Her mask is askew, but that no longer matters. I reach behind her head and untie the silk ribbon to let the mask fall to the floor. I didn’t wear a mask tonight, and hers was only symbolic.

  I straighten the tiara on her head, and even with her mussed hair, courtesy of me, she’s absolutely regal.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “For what?”

  “For always giving me exactly what I need, even when I don’t realize I need it.”

  I take her hand, threading her smaller fingers through mine, and lift it to my lips to press a kiss to the back of it. “We’re not done yet. Not even close.”

  I pull her closer, taking her lips, something I’ll never get tired of doing. I’ve never kissed another woman before her, and she’s the only one I ever will.

  No other man will ever kiss her. Touch her. Taste her. Feel her as she comes.

  She’s mine. And after tonight, she won’t have any doubt.

  When I release her and her eyes flutter open again, I lead her toward the curtain. There, I pause and ask her the most important question of my life.

  Keira

  “Do you trust me?” Lachlan’s gaze takes on a new intensity as he asks me.