by K. Webster
As a Constantine, duty is required of me.
What I pay for behind closed doors is the reward I give myself for doing my part in this family.
“This is yours.” I walk into Perry’s office where Ash is planted in a chair beside him, the two of them looking at something on his computer. “You’re welcome.”
Perry stares at the key on his desk, a frown of confusion marring his features. Ash, however, knows exactly what this is.
“I told you I don’t want that,” she snips, her neck turning splotchy red.
Her embarrassment is cute, and I’d love to exploit it if I weren’t annoyed at her stubbornness.
“It doesn’t matter what you want.” I shove the key toward her, leaning over the desk to glower at her. “You’ll take it, and you’ll use it. It’s yours.”
“Your condo key?” Perry asks, making me wince.
“No,” I clip out. “It’s for an apartment. Her own apartment. So she doesn’t have to worry about those douchebags retaliating for her playing bumper cars with their Audis and then telling her daddy that they’re monsters.”
“Smart thinking,” Perry says with a nod of his head. “Those dickheads—”
“It’s a whore’s apartment.” Her voice is shrill as she trembles with anger that’s unfairly now pointed at Perry. “I thought I could at least count on you to side with me.”
“He’s my brother. Why in the hell would he side with you?” I pin her with a dark stare. “We’re Constantines and you’re—”
“The paid help. Yes, Win, you’ve made that abundantly clear.” She stands up and starts past the desk, but I step in her way, not allowing her to throw her tantrum alone.
“Move, asshole.”
“I’m the asshole,” I growl, “for getting you an apartment to keep you safe? You’re being a brat, and you know it.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and glares up at me, her hazel eyes gleaming in defiance. Only Ash fucking Elliott would throw a fit over something like this. The girl will let me toss thousands of dollars at her to do dirty shit for me or buy her an armored vehicle, but a nice apartment close to her job is the threshold of what makes her a whore.
Unbelievable.
“Are we done here?” Her nostrils flare. “If so, I’d like to leave.”
Perry shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable at our heated discussion. I hold Ash’s stare for a long minute before I give her a nod.
“We’re not done discussing this, Cinderelliott.”
“Oh, Constantine, we so are.” She shoves past me, her sweet scent swirling around me in her wake.
“Trouble in paradise?” Perry asks once she’s gone.
“She’s being unreasonable.” I scoop up the key from the desk, turning it over in my palm and wondering how something so insignificant could piss her off so much.
“Not to be a master of the obvious, but you’re the king of unreasonable.”
I shoot him a menacing glare. “I may be your brother, but I’m still your boss.”
“And yet you don’t buy me an apartment.” He shrugs. “All I’m saying is, Ash is more than an employee, and you know it. It’s insulting to give her an apartment.”
“I’m trying to keep her safe, goddammit. You saw what they did to her!” I scowl at him as I tug at the knot of my tie, needing more air to fill my lungs. “They’ll do it again if given the opportunity.”
“And tell me, Winny, what’s the problem with the room she’s got at your place?”
“It’s where we play,” I snap. “Not where she lives.”
“So you can fuck her and buy her shit, but she can’t get her mail there? That makes a whole lot of sense.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t fuck this up.”
“There’s nothing to fuck up. I pay her to please me.”
“Maybe in the beginning. But now? You’re an idiot if you think either of you are comfortable staying in those roles. Come on, big bro, you’re not the only intelligent person around here. I can see this for what it is. She’s your girlfriend whether you want to admit it or not. You basically just told said girlfriend that you want her to leave the place she’s been spending all her time at to stay at an apartment you pay for.”
“So?”
“In chick speak, you’re practically breaking up with her.”
“We’re. Not. Dating.”
He shakes his head, grumbling under his breath.
“What’s that?” I demand, sounding oddly like Dad in this moment.
“I said, ‘If you ran Halcyon like you do your love life, we’d be bankrupt.’”
“Fuck. Off.”
“Suit yourself. Ruin your life. What do I care?” He rolls his eyes. “Seriously, man, get your head out of your ass.”
I toss him the keys. “You’re her friend. When she’s done being pissed, take her to dinner and then show her the apartment.”
“And if she refuses? Want me to take her home?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I growl. “Take her to my place.”
The fucker smirks, earning him the middle finger from me.
“Where will you be, Winny? Off somewhere trying to convince yourself you’re not in love?”
“I’m not answering that. Just do what I say, Perry.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“That ship sailed when I hired you, a goddamn child.”
“Love you too, bro.”
“Fuck off.”
14
Ash
My phone buzzes from my purse. I yank it out and glower at it, ready to give Winston a piece of my mind. But it’s not Win.
Crap.
Asshole Stalker: Did you find anything?
Me: It’s been hours. What the hell do you expect me to find?
Asshole Stalker: Look in his emails today. See if there’s anything of value there.
Me: He has cameras in his office.
Asshole Stalker: Figure something out.
Me: I can’t! If he catches me doing a Morelli’s bidding do you think he’d keep me around? Contrary to what you believe, I’m not all that important to him.
I’m his whore.
Bitter tears sting at my eyes. I told him I didn’t want the stupid apartment, and he got it anyway. He’s pushing me away, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Asshole Stalker: Follow this link.
Dread pools in the pit of my stomach. It’s a video of Winston and me. Filthy and dirty. You can’t see my face very well, but there’s no denying who’s fucking my ass. I blink back the tears that threaten and swallow down the fear clawing up my throat.
Me: What have you done?
Asshole Stalker: Nothing yet. This video is in drafts on a porn account. All I have to do is hit the publish button and then hit send on the email to one of the city’s most vicious journalists. Click and click. That easy.
Me: You’re asking for the impossible.
Asshole Stalker: Someone getting close to that motherfucker was impossible and you managed that with your golden teenage cunt. Put that magical pussy to work and get me something.
There’s no way in hell I’m snooping in Win’s stuff and giving this asshole actual information. I’ll lie. Being honest about what I can get him hasn’t worked thus far.
Me: When he’s distracted on a call, I’ll take his phone to the bathroom and look at the emails there.
Asshole Stalker: I’ll expect an answer later.
Me: Oh no.. . . . My phone is dying. Bye.
I shut the phone off and attempt not to panic. He won’t publish the video without getting information from me first. I have to believe that.
“Are you going to continue to pout about the inevitable?” Win’s deep voice booms from the doorway of his office.
I nearly drop my phone and toss it into my purse, trying and failing to keep my features level. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
He strides in looking perfectly handsome and expensive an
d apparently completely out of reach. His features soften when he’s close enough to touch. My eyes fall closed as he gently strokes his palm over my hair in what could be misconstrued as a demeaning, condescending gesture if it didn’t feel so comforting. Like a kitten, I lean into his touch and sigh.
“There’s my girl.” Soft, sweet words from a rigid, often cruel man. “So pretty when she pouts.”
I stick my tongue out, earning a chuckle from him that warms and soothes me. Sure, I’m mad at Winston, but after my rattling text conversation with Leo, I find strength in his presence.
“I don’t want the apartment. I want to stay over at your place tonight.”
“Ready to negotiate?”
I pop open my eyes and meet his stare.
“You can stay the night under three conditions.”
My brow arches up at his words. “I won’t agree—”
He silences me with a bruising kiss. His grip finds my throat as he deepens it. When I’m dizzy and aching for more, he pulls back slightly. “You let Perry show the apartment to you and you keep the key on your chain for emergencies.”
“And?”
“You suck my dick like you want to be awarded another night in my home. Make it good, and you might earn a few nights.”
Determined to win this round, I rub his dick over his slacks. “Deal. But let me warn you, Constantine, I might just suck my way through the month.”
“I knew there was a reason I keep you around.” He smirks and moves his palm down to cup my breast. “That filthy mouth of yours, Cinderelliott. I’m quite fond of it.”
And just like that, I think we’ve managed to drift back to familiar territory. I’m still way out of my depth with him, but he’s still letting me hang on for dear life.
“I’ve researched some new blowjob techniques too.” I grin at him in a devious way that makes him scowl. “Just wait until I stick my finger up your butt when you come. Pure magic.”
“If your finger goes anywhere near my asshole, you’ll be fishing those new apartment keys out of yours.”
“Oooh, kinky.”
“I’m leaving now,” he grumbles. “Go bother Perry. He’s waiting. See you at home later.”
He doesn’t wince at his misstep on his words, and I don’t gloat. Not now. Not when everything feels so brittle and fleeting.
“Bye, Win.”
“I don’t understand why we have to do this,” I grumble, shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat and shooting Perry an annoyed glare. “We can just go back to Winston’s.”
“If we did that, I’d never hear the end of it.” He chuckles, turning into an apartment building garage. “Besides, it won’t hurt to have someplace to go if he pisses you off.”
“He always pisses me off,” I throw back. “But that’s kind of our thing. It’s what I like about him.”
He pulls into an open parking spot near the elevators and shuts off his loud car. His brows are knitted together as he studies me. “Your feelings are hurt.”
“You think?”
A heavy sigh escapes him as he rubs his thumb along the leather on his steering wheel. “He’s trying to do the right thing, Ash.”
“By pushing me away?”
“By giving you your space. Safety. A place to call home.”
Bitter tears sting at my eyes, and I busy myself with gathering up the bags of Chinese takeout we grabbed along the way. By the time I exit his orange horror show, the threat of crying has passed. We reach the elevator at the same time. He slings an arm over my shoulders and kisses the top of my head.
When I found out I was getting three stepbrothers, I expected this kind of relationship. Someone who I could count on and be friends with. Someone to talk to and have my back. And when everything felt like it was falling apart, someone to hug me, putting it all back together again.
“He’s just panicking,” Perry says when the doors open and we step inside. “Winston’s never been . . .” He trails off and laughs. “He’s never had someone like you before.”
“This apartment is case in point that he doesn’t want someone like me either.”
“No,” he says, pressing the button for the twelfth floor. “That’s not true. He wants you more than he’ll ever allow his stubborn ass to admit. He’s a lot like Mother. When feelings are involved, they harden to ice in an effort to protect themselves. But the person under all that coldness needs to love probably more so than either of us.”
My chest aches at the way Perry speaks of his family. For as rich and untouchable as the Constantines are, they really are human at their core.
The doors open, saving us from any more conversation about Winston. I’m not sure what I expected of this whore’s apartment, but I didn’t expect something so normal. Winston’s place is over the top expensive and new, but this place is older, restored to its original look, and probably has decades and decades of stories tucked away in its walls. I won’t admit it to anyone but myself, but I can breathe a little easier in this building that reminds me so much of the one I lived in with Dad all those years after Mom died.
We walk over to unit 1200, and I hand Perry the food bags so I can fish out my keyring. After Win and I made our deal, he grabbed the keys from Perry and put them on the keyring himself. With shaking hands, I unlock the door and open it. Upon entering, I’m hit with the scent of orange and cinnamon, as if someone who lived here before liked to bake.
“This is . . . quaint,” Perry says, taking in the small apartment with a critical, Constantine eye. “And unexpected.”
The studio apartment is centered around a double bed beneath a large window overlooking more buildings. Bookcases line one wall, and a desk is on the other. There’s a loveseat in one corner of the room and a coffee table. No television. Two bar stools sit beneath a small bar area that overlooks the kitchen big enough for a fridge, stove, and coffee maker. There are two doors between the loveseat and bookcase. The open one reveals a darkened bathroom.
At least my whore apartment is cute.
And quiet.
I can almost imagine myself sitting at the desk working on my college coursework come fall.
Because Winston will be a thing of the past and you’ll live here full time?
I tear my gaze from the desk and toss my purse down on the loveseat. While Perry pulls food out of the bags, I root around in the stocked kitchen looking for plates and silverware. Inside the fridge, I locate a couple of bottles of water.
“You don’t have to live here,” Perry says once we settle at the bar and he’s heaping fried rice onto his plate. “I can go with you and look for a place you like better if you want.”
“This is fine.”
“Come on, Ash. Talk to me. You’re too quiet.”
I set my fork down and dart my eyes his way. Even though he’s the younger, less put together version of Winston, he’s still a Constantine. Handsome and capable. Probably normal. Some girl will be lucky to have Perry one day. If I wasn’t addicted to depravity, I would go for someone like him.
Unfortunately, dark princes with fucked-up fantasies are more my thing.
“Do you think if we took away all the money and gifts and whore apartment,” I say, wincing at the last part, “we’d still make it? Do you think he’d still be interested in a poor maid half his age?”
Perry laughs, boyish and loud. “You both have it so bad for each other.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” I elbow him. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” He shrugs and gives me a soft smile. “Winston cares about you. Not what you can do for him. Any idiot with two eyes can see that. Hell, it’s why Leo Morelli tried to threaten him.” I shudder at the mention of Leo, but Perry doesn’t seem to notice. “You’re important to my brother. Just because he’s deluded himself into thinking otherwise doesn’t make it any less true.”
“The odds are stacked against us,” I throw back. “We’re not a match. Just ask Nate.”
Perry’s brows furl a
s he studies me in the penetrative way Winston has perfected. Damn these Constantines and their ability to see right inside my head. “Nate’s an idiot. And you think this would be the first time Winston had the odds stacked against him and didn’t come out on top?” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Everyone expected him to fail when Dad died. Did he? No, he came out swinging, not only growing Halcyon, but making sure every single person in this city knew he was in charge. My brother loves a challenge, and you my friend, are the most challenging woman I know.”
As we finish our meal, I mull over his words. It’s just an apartment. I don’t have to stay here, but I do admit it gives me comfort that I have someplace to go if I ever need to. Winston is a complicated man, but he’s worth knowing inside and out. He’s worth fighting for, even if I have to fight him.
I’m not like that slutty princess Meredith or the other Stepford Wife wannabes in this city.
I’m Ash Elliott.
Anti-princess.
Not-so-charming villain lover.
The girl who also loves a challenge.
Win and I are an unlikely match born of filth and debauchery, but when you dust us off, we shine up nicely.
Perry finishes up his food and starts to clean up. I’m still thinking over our conversation when my phone buzzes. I’d turned it back on earlier, and I’m not surprised to find a text from Leo.
Asshole Stalker: Well?
Me: There’s a lot of emails about the building you bought.
Lies.
Asshole Stalker: To who? What did they say?
Me: Some chick named Meredith.
I’m going to hell for that one.
Asshole Stalker: Are they going to try and get it back?
Me: It’s Winston. What do you think?
I’m lying through my teeth while trying to make it sound legitimate. Leo is calculating and terrifying. Not sure if he’ll buy it. If he asks for proof, I’m shit out of luck.
Asshole Stalker: You just bought yourself another few days of anonymity. Keep up the good work, snitch.
I want to send him a thousand middle finger emojis but settle for three.
“Winston?” Perry asks, making me nearly jump out of my skin. “He’s the only one you grin so evilly for.”
