Claiming Her: A Reverse Harem Romance

Home > Fantasy > Claiming Her: A Reverse Harem Romance > Page 25
Claiming Her: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 25

by A. J. Snyder


  His words fuel the fire enough to cause an explosion of anger within me. Before he can even finish talking, I have him pushed up against the wall, my forearm pressed against his throat. "You're overstepping again, Jax," I hiss at him through gritted teeth.

  His fingers pry at the long sleeve of my shirt as he chokes out, "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry!"

  I release him, and he bends over, sucking in air and coughing.

  "Jesus. You never cared before."

  And he's right. I never did. It's not like this is the first time I've caught Jax listening in on me with one of my girls.

  But Adeline isn't just a number to me. She's special.

  "She's different, though, isn't she?" Jax asks as if he had just been reading my damn thoughts. "You're possessive over her. More than you've ever been before. Hell, maybe for the first time ever."

  I simply shrug at his comment, neither affirming nor denying. Frankly, it's none of his damn business.

  "So tell me why you're not sending her packing then. They always leave the morning after, Luc. Always."

  I close my eyes for a second and pinch the bridge of my nose. I didn't want to share this information with anyone, let alone Jax, but I know he won't let up until I do. "She's not safe."

  "And you know this how?"

  "Last night after we…" I let my voice trail off, because I still feel a tinge of guilt for sleeping with Adeline, who, unbeknownst to me, is clearly here against her will. "Adeline told me that she's engaged."

  "She's what?" Jax practically yells.

  I glare at him. "She also told me that she was kidnapped, knocked unconscious by the gunman. Stolen right off the fucking streets."

  "Holy shit," he breathes, slowly absorbing all of this new information. "That explains the nasty bruise on her temple," Jax confirms.

  I nod. "I spent all night researching her and her family. She's Salvatore Valenti's youngest daughter."

  The mere mention of that name has Jax straightening his spine and his eyes widening. He knows the FBI has been wanting me to take down the Valenti empire for a long time now. I've been slowly building my case against the entire clan, wanting to ensure that no one goes free and that they get the max time for their crimes.

  What the FBI doesn't know is that I've been buying willing girls from someone in that said empire.

  Well, willing…until now.

  I have a long list of bad guys, and I've been ticking them off slowly one by one. In exchange for my help, the U.S. government looks the other way on some of my illegal extracurricular activities on the dark web and how I make most of my money.

  "Giovanni Morello, Adeline's fiancé, is the one who sold her to me. Conveniently, it was at the same time her father was going to be across the country for a few weeks. I think Morello set up the kidnapping to cover his own ass in case Valenti came to find out." I tell Jax and brace for my words to floor him.

  I'm not disappointed. Jax is rendered speechless for a very long time, which is so unlike him. Jax is the complete opposite of speechless on any normal given day.

  I myself had trouble grasping the concept of why a man, who clearly has everything in the world, would want to give it up. My only conclusion is that Giovanni Morello needed the money. Badly.

  Money is the root of all evil, after all.

  And I know that better than most, unfortunately.

  "Does Adeline know all of this?" he asks quietly.

  "No. And I don't plan on telling her anytime soon." I sigh and shake my head. "I can't let her go knowing she's in danger. What if he sells her again?" That question has bothered me more than I'd like to admit. If he was willing to sell her once, he could do it again…multiple times. What's stopping him? If Salvatore Valenti couldn't stop him, I don't think anyone could.

  "So you need more time, more information. Is that it?"

  "Yes," I say, but I'm not being totally honest. The fact of the matter is I have all the information I need to bring down her fiancé or, hell, to even have him killed. But I don't want to bring down the Valenti empire.

  Not yet anyway.

  I know I should return Adeline without giving two fucks about whether she'll be safe or not. After she leaves here, she's no longer my problem.

  But the sick, twisted side of me wants to keep her.

  I want…more.

  This woman does something to me that I can't explain. And the thought of letting her go feels like someone is taking a knife straight to the black, deep cavity of where my heart would be beating…if I even have one. I always thought I didn't. It was so much easier to be cold, closed off and detached from the world around me and everyone in it.

  But Adeline is different. She makes me feel. And as terrified as I am to find out what more I can gain from our fucked-up relationship in this even more than fucked-up situation, I can't let her go. She's like a powerful drug…and I am hopelessly and desperately addicted to her.

  I tell Jax none of this. I need him to believe that she's in danger. I can't possibly let him know the crazy ideas swirling in my head about keeping her, about not wanting to let her go…ever, and certainly not about wanting her over and over again, which breaks all of the rules.

  "I can't let her go until I know she's safe," I tell him, the half-truth slipping out easily.

  Jax gives me a nod in agreement. "Then we'll just extend her stay for a while," he says quietly. "When are you going to tell her?"

  "Tonight. At dinner."

  "I'll be there," Jax says before standing and walking out of my office.

  I don't stop him and I don't tell him I don't want him there, because the truth of the matter is I need his support.

  Adeline has a way of ripping me to shreds with a single look.

  And if I know her as well as I think I do already…

  She's going to hate me when I tell her that I'm keeping her.

  CHAPTER 22

  ADELINE

  THE NEXT MORNING I wake up completely exhausted even though I slept like the dead. After crying myself to sleep, I drifted off into a deep slumber, too tired to even dwell on all the revelations swirling in my brain that came to light after Lucien took my virginity.

  My legs feel like jelly as I make my way to the adjacent bathroom. I relieve myself, wash my hands and brush my teeth. Even though it seems really early since I'm so tired, I'm sure it's almost noon based on the amount of sun that was shining through the skylights when I woke up.

  So much has happened over the past week or so that it almost seems like one, big blur.

  That man…my captor…he didn't just take my innocence last night. He made love to me. I had so many orgasms that I lost count. And I'm not completely sure how I feel about that.

  I gave myself to him willingly, and he played my traitorous body like an instrument, slowly plucking pleasure out of me until I was completely and utterly exhausted.

  Even though some of our lovemaking was tender, at the end of day, I am still his captive, something he purchased. There's nothing romantic about that, and no level of Stockholm syndrome could make me forget that fact.

  And now that he knows I was kidnapped, it should change everything. Will he send me back home, or pay me to keep quiet about his indiscretions?

  I have no idea, because, in all honesty, I don't even know who Lucien is. I'm starting to get a grasp on the conundrum that is Lucien, but I feel like I haven't even scratched the deep, dark surface yet.

  I take a shower and get ready for the day, slipping into a teal, vintage-style floral tea dress. Lucien had promised he would release me when he was done, so I assume I'm going home today or tomorrow, whenever he can make the arrangements.

  As I'm putting on some light makeup and styling my hair, I think about what will happen next. If Lucien releases me, where will I go? New York City seems like the most likely scenario, but a part of me wants to run away and hide forever, too ashamed to face my family and fiancé.

  Scowling at my reflection in the mirror, I decide to put my fate in Luci
en's hands. It's not as if I have much of a choice at this point. If he sends me back to NYC, then maybe that's where I'm supposed to be. Maybe Gio will welcome me back with open arms, and we can continue where we left off.

  That's what I'm hoping for anyway, but it's hard to be optimistic when I'm being held against my will on an island.

  There is a small knock on the door before one of the maids enters with lunch. I run out of the bathroom and try to ask her about when I'm going home, but the young girl with big, brown eyes simply shakes her head with a confused look and leaves quietly.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, I sit down and pick my way through my grilled chicken salad, barely able to eat. I'm too worried about my future at this point, and food is the furthest thing on my mind right now.

  Setting the tray aside, it's not long before the same maid comes back to collect my barely eaten meal. I don't even bother trying to talk to her, since she clearly doesn't understand a word I'm saying.

  As the minutes tick by and no one else shows up, I move to the bed and sit on the edge, nervously bouncing my knee up and down as I consider my options. Unfortunately, I have none. I can't leave until Lucien says so.

  Sighing, I fall back on the plush comforter and close my eyes.

  It doesn't take long for sleep to pull me under once again.

  * * * * * * *

  MARIA COMES TO my room that evening to tell me that Lucien requests me to come downstairs and join him for dinner. Considering he's been dining in my room for the past week or so, this is definitely a nice change and hopefully a turn in the right direction.

  I might be going home soon, I think to myself, smiling effortlessly as I follow Maria into the large dining hall. But the smile on my face slowly disappears as I realize that Lucien and I won't be dining alone tonight.

  The tall, dark-haired man I saw in the kitchen during my escape attempt is sitting to the right of Lucien. They're both wearing dark suits, but the stranger is sans tie whereas Lucien is impeccably dressed, as usual, with a tie and even cufflinks and his hair perfectly styled.

  As I hesitantly approach the two men, they are engaged in a serious conversation that ceases abruptly when I get within earshot.

  Lucien looks troubled, barely meeting my eyes as he motions for me to take a seat across the table from the man with the familiar steel-gray eyes.

  Swallowing hard, I take a seat, my glare never leaving the mysterious man, who I know deep down in my gut had something to do with bringing me to this godforsaken island.

  To my surprise, the man flashes me a friendly smile with pearly whites and says, "Adeline, it's nice to properly meet you. My name is Jackson. I'm Lucien's cousin."

  Well, that explains why the two men look somewhat similar. Jackson is very handsome with the same shade of dark brown hair, but Lucien is on a whole other tier by himself since he looks like a Greek god and is much taller and much more domineering than his cousin.

  "Hello," I manage to squeak out. I'm on edge, and I ball my fidgeting hands against my thighs under the tablecloth.

  Lucien motions for the first course to be served. When a bowl of some kind of cream soup is placed in front of me, my stomach rolls with indifference, too upset to even think about food right now.

  Feeling two sets of intimidating and watchful eyes on me, however, I force myself to eat a few spoonfuls before placing my spoon down and drinking most of the wine in my glass. The wine, like always, tastes expensive, and it helps to settle my nerves a bit.

  The second course comes shortly thereafter, and I can't even bring myself to taste the delicious-smelling baked chicken and broccoli dish.

  The tension is thick in the room, so thick you could cut it with a knife. And it's only making this entire situation that much harder.

  Drinking the last of my wine down for some liquid courage, I turn my attention to Lucien. "When am I going home?" I ask him, my voice just above a whisper.

  He shifts in his chair and meets my gaze. "I don't know yet."

  I'm taken aback by his uncertainty. Lucien seems to be the type who plans things out not just weeks in advance, but months and years. The fact that he doesn't know when he's releasing me makes me extremely nervous. However, I try to keep my voice calm as I ask, "What do you mean you don't know? You can't get the plane ready or…?" I try to think of a million excuses that he could possibly have as to why he's not letting me go.

  "It's too dangerous for me to let you leave right now."

  "Too dangerous," I repeat, tasting the bitter words. "My father…my father can protect me. He can ---"

  "Your father can do many things, Adeline, but he can't protect you, not when it comes to this."

  "You know who my father is?" I ask, my voice wavering.

  "I know all about Salvatore Valenti," he hisses with contempt.

  I gasp at my father's name coming from Lucien's lips. He knows who I am and about my family? Perhaps he's known all along. A sick feeling creeps up my spine. "You kidnapped me for ransom money, didn't you?" I spit accusingly. My eyes search his face, frantic for answers.

  His brows pinch together in frustration. "Does it look like I need the money?" he asks, mockingly.

  As much as his answer and attitude anger me, he's right. He would have nothing to gain other than padding his already fat pockets.

  "I have contacts in the U.S. who handle and supply me with willing women who are paid handsomely to…give me what I want." He regards me silently for a few moments. "Someone in your father's inner circle kidnapped and sold you to me. I had no idea that had happened to you, or that someone had broken the rules, until you told me last night," he says crossly, clearly upset over the turn of events.

  "I can't let you go without knowing that you'll be safe." He hesitates. "The person who betrayed you and your father could sell you again."

  My hands tremble as I grasp the edge of the table to steady myself. I'm dizzy from all the knowledge my brain is attempting to process, and I'm sure the wine I pretty much chugged is not helping either.

  So, all this time Lucien thought I was a willing participant who wanted to sleep with him for money. If I had told him about the kidnapping before we had sex, would he have let me go without taking what he paid for? Would I still be a virgin?

  I just don't know the answers to those questions, but it's too late now anyway. What's done is done.

  "Do you understand what I'm telling you, Adeline?" Lucien asks after I'm quiet for a long time. "There's no telling what could happen to you if I returned you to your home…or anywhere, for that matter. You're in danger."

  I shake my head, thinking over everything that has happened over the past two weeks. How do I even know Lucien is telling the truth about all of this? What if he's lying to keep me here? It's not like I even know him or what he's capable of. "You…you're lying," I rasp out. "I don't believe you."

  Lucien's eyes narrow as he regards me. "Why would I lie to you? I have no reason to."

  "You lied before," I tell him, my voice unsteady. "You told me you'd let me go."

  His hand clenches into a fist on the table. "I already explained to you why I can't let you go," he admonishes me.

  "My father…and my fiancé…they would protect me!" I insist.

  His brows furrow at my words, and he mumbles something under his breath that I can't hear. Then he says, "I don't think your fiancé will mind if I keep you a little while longer."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, incensed.

  Lucien glances up at me with a cocksure and shrewd expression on his face. "He's not even looking for you," he says with an unapologetic shrug.

  I shake my head. "I don't believe you." We were mugged that night. Giovanni most certainly would have reported everything to the police, including the fact that I was kidnapped. And my father…my father would be looking for me. My father is a powerful man, maybe even more powerful than Lucien.

  Tears fill my eyes as I glare at my remorseless captor. "You promised you would let me go after
I gave you what you wanted." I choke back a sob. "You said…you said you let the others go. Was that a lie?"

  "No. I let them go," he tells me.

  "Then why won't you let me go? Why are you forcing me to stay here with you?" I cry. My words seem to visibly wound him, but I don't stop. "What do you want from me?" I shout. Standing up, I pound my fist on the table, rattling the surrounding dishes, and demand, "Tell me what you want from me!"

  "More!" he snaps.

  That single word makes me crumble as the truth finally comes out. He's not worried about my safety as much as he is about fucking me again.

  My gaze meets Jackson's stare from across the table, and he looks worried. He gives me a subtle shake of his head, and I know he wants me to sit down and stop pushing his cousin.

  Well, I'm tired of being a docile, little doll that everyone thinks they can just throw around and treat however they want.

  "I don't want to stay here with you another second," I tell Lucien through gritted teeth. "I want you to let me go!" I scream, grabbing the first thing I see, which is my dinner plate, and throwing it. Pieces of fine china shatter and food splatters against the wall and floor.

  Lucien stares at the mess with wide eyes. I can see the tremble start in his hands and work its way up his arms and entire spine. He stands and growls in frustration, shoving his large hands through his hair and pulling hard at the ends, threatening to rip each strand out by the roots.

  He turns to me with a murderous glint in his eyes, and the look he gives me sends a chill straight through me to my very bones.

  Jackson stands then, a worried expression etched on his face. "Luc," he says calmly, but Lucien doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

  Lucien's gaze is pinpointed on me, and I know all he sees is red in that very moment. I watch in horror as he makes quick work of his belt buckle before pulling the leather through the loops. He bends the belt in half and slides it into his hands, squeezing it hard.

 

‹ Prev