by Trisha Grace
No way would he agree to that. The company didn’t need this contract. Liam had earned enough. He might not be as rich as the Eolenfeld, but he wouldn’t have to worry about his future.
Besides, no one else could do what they did. The Pentagon could go ahead and pour billions down another firm. They would end up crawling back to them anyway.
Now Liam had to deal with this nuisance. As if Nigel’s interruption the night before hadn’t been enough.
Nobody ever came to this place. Nobody but his half-brothers, who had taken to traipsing in whenever it pleased them. His half-brothers knew better than to disturb him when he wasn’t in a good mood, though.
He wasn’t called the Beast by the Eolenfelds for nothing.
Helena Shaw, however, didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.
Her courageous resolve to storm into this rotten place alone intrigued him. Her daring to say no to him, to march up and stand toe to toe with him. When was the last time someone had done that? Even his business partners, all his half-brothers—all Eolenfelds’ discards, all illegitimate children of Frederick Eolenfeld—rarely stood against him.
Then there was the gentle plea for her brother. Fear and concern rang clearly in Helena’s voice, but she wasn’t fearful or concerned on her own behalf. It was all about the coarse, useless Nigel Shaw.
How in the world were these two related?
That curiosity was probably what prompted him to lead her here.
The beam of light from Helena’s phone surprised him, and Liam immediately took a step back, hiding from the light. Just as he had since he first came here.
The darkness was where a beast like him belonged.
No one wanted to see a monster like him. No one wanted to touch a monster like him.
So much so that he couldn’t help tensing when Helena grabbed his arm.
He was wearing a T-shirt, so he felt her cold hand against his skin. Even now, he felt as if a cold band had curled itself permanently around where Helena’s hand had been.
Liam flexed his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had reached out to touch him either.
Not that he cared.
Not that he yearned for it.
He knew she only dared to touch him because she hadn’t seen him. The shroud of darkness veiled his monstrosity. That was why she had reached out—twice—instead of shrinking away in fear or disgust.
“Nigel!”
Helena’s shout snapped his attention back to the room, and that was when he noticed Nigel’s position. His back was to the wall, his side pressed against the bed as he rocked back and forth. His hair was standing up as if he’d been tugging on it all night. “Please stop. Please stop.” His voice was soft and filled with fear and desperation.
The tone of his voice struck right to Liam’s core as the distant memories he had locked up and shoved into the deepest recesses of his mind threatened to burst forth.
He clenched his fists.
“It’s okay, Nigel.” Helena dropped to her knees beside her brother. “It’s okay. It’s over. You’re safe.”
“Master Black.” Kelly ran up to him. “What—”
“Get out.”
Kelly flinched away from him. She took a step back and bumped into George, his groundsman.
Helena glanced over her shoulder without directing the light at him. “Just give us a minute.”
“Get out,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Please stop. Please stop,” Nigel continued chanting.
Liam clenched his fists so tightly his hands began to shake. “Get out now!”
Helena shot to her feet. “What’s wrong with you?” She shone the beam of light onto him and gasped.
Liam squinted at the sudden brightness. When his attention refocused on her, he expected her to have looked away. Everyone always did.
Not Helena Shaw, though.
Her wide eyes roamed across his face, then her gaze locked with his.
Liam waited.
It wouldn’t take long—a second or two, perhaps. That was all it took for disgust or fear to take over. He hadn’t seen that expression in a while. He hadn’t met anyone new in a long time, but it was a look etched deep in his mind. A look he’d never forgotten.
Except the look never came.
Helena’s gaze softened as she looked at him—right in the eyes. She didn’t break eye contact even as he glowered back at her, which fanned sudden rage in him. “Get. Out. Now.”
Nigel began pulling at his hair as his rocking grew faster. “Stop. Stop. Stop.”
“Get out!”
“Stop it!” Helena shouted back at him.
Kelly and George gasped while Liam blinked, startled by her reaction. No one had dared to yell at him since … since his mother. And that toxic woman had died nearly a decade ago.
“Can’t you see he isn’t handling things well?” She went back to her brother. “It’s okay, Nigel,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. She gave his arm a squeeze. “It’s okay.” Then she got up and ran over to the window.
She threw the curtains open, and Liam flinched away from the sunlight streaming in.
Another gasp escaped Kelly. “Miss.” She ran over to the curtains. “No. You can’t do that.” She tried to close the curtain, but Helena grabbed her hand.
Liam spun around, turning his back to Helena.
“Why not?” Helena asked. “Nigel just needs some light.”
That seemed enough to convince Kelly to leave the curtains alone.
Liam watched from the corner of his eye while Helena jogged back to her brother. “Look, Nigel. It isn’t raining. You’re safe.” She dropped to her knees again and rubbed her hand up and down her brother’s back. “Look,” she said.
Slowly, Nigel ceased his rocking and lifted his head.
His face and lips were drained of color, and his eyes were glassy, as if he was recovering from shock.
“You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Liam’s chest hurt as he listened to Helena’s soft, coaxing voice. No one had ever spoken to him like that. Closing his eyes, he flexed his hands and pushed those thoughts from his mind. “Get out.”
“Come on.” Helena helped Nigel to his feet. “Let’s get out of Master Black’s hair.”
Nigel took two steps, then stopped. “No. I can’t leave. I promised Bobby.”
Bobby Eolenfeld, the eldest legitimate grandson of Edward Eolenfeld, the one everyone assumed would inherit the vast fortune.
Helena rolled her eyes. “Forget about Bobby.”
Forget about Bobby? No one ever brushed Bobby Eolenfeld off, which made Helena Shaw more interesting to Liam by the second.
“I can’t. I promised. I … I need to stay.” All emotion seeped out of Nigel’s face, and he seemed to enter a catatonic state.
Liam was about to tell George to throw both of them out when Nigel took Helena’s hands.
Nigel pressed her hands together. “Will you stay here for me?” His lips curled back in an awkward smile. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Helena blinked twice.
“Please, Helena. Please do this for me.”
“Why would you have to stay here?” she asked.
Nigel ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t deal with all these questions now.”
“All these questions?” Helena’s brows drew together. “I asked one.”
“Just stay here, okay? Promise you’ll do that.” Without waiting for a reply, Nigel dropped Helena’s hands and bolted.
Liam watched Nigel run away in stunned silence. He turned to look at Kelly and George, who were equally shocked. Still, their gaze dropped to the floor the moment their eyes met.
He turned his attention back to Helena, who was still staring at the doorway, her mouth slightly open. “That’s who you came for?” Why did scum like Nigel and Bobby always have people looking out for them in spite of their complete unworthiness?
Helena’s eyes slitted, and sh
e shot him a glare, which Liam returned.
They both stood where they were, both refusing to back down.
Helena crossed her arms. “You don’t scare me.”
With all that was happening, Liam forgot he was standing in a well-lit room. He forgot Helena could see his full monstrous face. He took a long step forward and lowered his voice. “I can rectify that now.”
Chapter 2
Helena couldn’t believe what just happened. Did her brother really run away and leave her behind to take his place?
“That’s who you came for?”
She hated the tone of Master Black’s voice. She narrowed her eyes and redirected her burning anger toward him. Didn’t he think she was wondering the same thing? Did he have to speak as if she was the stupidest person on earth?
She didn’t need him to point it out. She was already feeling stupid enough.
Master Black met her angry stare with one of his own.
Helena probably shouldn’t antagonize Master Black, especially not after seeing how his people shrank away from him. But her disappointment with Nigel and frustration with herself were colliding in her head and creating an inferno of anger with no one to vent it on.
She crossed her arms. “You don’t scare me.”
She was so done with stupid men. Her brother. Bobby Eolenfeld. And now, Master Black.
No matter how intimidating he looked.
In the darkness, his silhouette was broad and foreboding. Helena had assumed that the darkness, coupled with the fear of being in new and dark surroundings, made him look much larger and stronger than he truly was.
When she shone the light at him, she was shocked by the scar across the left side of his face. The scar extended above his brow, slanted through his eye, and down across his cheekbone.
The Viking-like scar added to his large, menacing frame, which was now clear in the light from the sun.
Master Black took a long step forward, stepping between her and the window. His shadow fell over her as he loomed in front of her, looking down at her like she was nothing but an ant he could easily crush. “I can rectify that now,” he whispered.
His low voice sent a shiver through her, but Helena forced her shoulders back instead of cowering. “Leave me alone.” She tried to sidestep him, but Master Black stepped out along with her.
“Didn’t you hear what your brother said? You’re supposed to stay here in his place.”
“Why should I do that? I’m not Bobby’s pet. I don’t have to listen to him” —she jabbed a finger in Master Black’s chest— “or you.” She tipped her head back to stare back at him.
She seriously needed to make sure she was standing on higher ground the next time she quarreled with him.
“Can’t take your eyes off the monster?” Master Black brought his face closer to her. As he did, a lock of his short brown hair fell over his forehead. “Do you think I’m a freak in a carnival for you to stare at?”
She blinked and finally tore her gaze from him. “That wasn’t why I was staring.”
“Liar,” he snapped. “I hate liars.”
Helena scowled and turned back to him. She refused to back down when he glared down at her again. She wasn’t going to let him make her feel guilty. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
She didn’t think he looked anything like a monster. Which she probably should, instead of thinking he looked like a Viking warrior. “I wasn’t lying. You’re the one who lied to me, liar.”
His jaw twisted to the side, and he pulled himself upright. “Let’s see how long your bravado lasts.”
She frowned. She was still wondering what he meant when he strode out of the room and slammed the door shut. She took one step toward the door, then frowned when she heard the click of the lock.
Helena ran over. She turned the doorknob and pulled on it.
The door wouldn’t budge.
“What the …” Helena tried again, using more strength. “You locked me in?” she shouted through the door while her watch buzzed to remind her to breathe through the stress. “Let me out, you …”
“What?” Master Black hollered back through the door. “Say it!”
“You idiot!” She pounded on the door. “Moron! You …” She pounded on the door again. “Ugh.” She threw her hands in the air. “Let me out!”
“Admit it.” Master Black’s voice was soft as it came through the door, but she heard it loud and clear.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drawing on the years of patience that Bobby and Nigel had trained her in. “What do you want me to admit?”
“That I look like a beast. That you’re only staring because you think I’m a freak show.”
Helena opened her eyes. That was what he was angry about?
Was that why the place was so dark? Why the housekeeper seemed so worried when Helena opened the curtains?
How many people had said that about him? How many years had he been listening to such nonsense that he took that as the truth? “You’re not a monster or a freak show.”
Silence.
Helena hadn’t heard footsteps moving away from the door, though. Unless he had taken care to sneak away, she assumed he was still on the other side of the door. “If by ‘beast’ you mean big and fearsome, then yes, kind of.”
“So you are afraid of me.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“I saw your watch. Your heart rate spiked when we were talking.”
“That was when you shocked me by saying you had my brother killed.” She folded her arms. “Open the door and check my heart rate now if you want.”
“Nice try.”
She dropped her head against the door.
“You’re supposed to stay in place of your brother.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll stay. I give you my word that I’ll stay. Just—”
His heavy footsteps thumped away from her.
“Hey! Open the door! Are you seriously trapping me in here?” She pressed her palm flat against the wooden door as if she could touch him on the other side. Her watched buzzed again. “Oh, stop it,” she snapped at her watch. “Someone—anyone—open the door!”
Nothing but silence responded to her shouts.
No one was coming to help her. No one would be opening the door.
She licked her lips and turned to survey the room. It was large, but empty. A small bed with two pillows lay on top of a small wooden frame. In the far corner of the room was a small wooden desk and chair.
From how badly the dull, grayish biege walls and ceiling were peeling, Helena assumed that no one had occupied this room for a while. Until Nigel.
She paused when her gaze landed on the arched window. The glass was murky with grime, but that wasn’t her concern right now. She moved forward and eyed the window.
She was only on the second floor. It couldn’t be that far down, right?
“Master Black.” Kelly stared at the floor. “Is it okay to lock Miss Shaw in that room? We didn’t lock her brother up when—”
Liam glared at Kelly, and she dipped her head lower.
That was what everyone did. No one could stand to look at him. Not since he got the scar.
It had been confusing and uncomfortable when the doctors and nurses avoided looking right at him, but his mother’s reaction was even worse. She had taken one look at him and her face had scrunched up with disgust. Congratulations. You’re now worse than a bastard. You’re a monster, a beast.
Liam marched back to his room and changed into a black T-shirt and a pair of shorts before heading straight for the home gym he’d set up. He’d already completed his morning workout, but he needed a distraction.
Instead of picking up the weights, he pulled on boxing gloves and slammed his fist into the sandbag suspended from the ceiling. His first sandbag had been a gift from George. It wasn’t actually a present. His groundsman was probably sick of having to patch up the walls or listen to his w
ife complain about all the things Liam had smashed or destroyed.
Liam had overheard Kelly complaining once. She had no idea he was just around the corner, or she never would have said anything. Even when he was a child, they knew how much of a tyrant he was.
George and Kelly had been members of the staff at the Eolenfeld mansion. Liam wasn’t sure what they had done to be in Edward Eolenfeld’s bad books, but they were banished here along with him and his mother.
Like everyone else, they had never dared to look directly at him. Even his half-brothers, who never met his eyes when they spoke, took a while to get used to his scar. Their tolerance probably came from all of them bearing scars inflicted by the Eolenfelds, physical or not.
You’re not a monster or a freak show. Liam shut his eyes, trying to keep Helena’s voice out of his head.
He was used to hearing his mother’s voice in his head. He’d grown numb to her voice, to the cruel words she’d spewed at him.
You’re not a monster or a freak show. Helena’s voice, however, created such a tightening in his chest that it hurt.
Liam put all his strength into punching the sandbag.
“Ugh.” Frustrated that his usual venting method wasn’t working, he stripped the gloves off his hands and continued to hit his target. Pain broke out along his knuckles. Soon his arms were burning, from the muscle aches and probably the micro-tears along his knuckles.
He didn’t stop.
He didn’t want to think about Helena’s words. He didn’t want to think about his beastly appearance. You’re not a monster or a freak show.
Liam had almost opened the door when she said those words. He wanted to look her in the eyes so he would know for sure that she was lying.
Because she definitely was—in spite of the gentle tone that almost made him melt against the door.
She was lying.
She had to be.
Thankfully, neither Kelly nor George was there to see his pathetic reaction to such obvious lies. Helena was simply saying whatever she had to so she could leave.
He pounded the sandbag one more time, then paused, panting. Sweat dripped down his face, his arms. Even his core was aching as he bent over and rested his hands on his knees.
