The Prince’s Game: A Mershano Empire Novel
Page 26
“I’ll still say no!” I called after him.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’,” he returned.
I shut the door with a shake of my head and a smile on my face. This game, or whatever it was, had started out as annoying but seemed to be heading into entertaining territory. As long as I kept refusing him, of course. Once I gave in, the fun would end.
I took two steps toward the kitchen, when a knock sounded behind me. “Oh, good grief. I am not ready for another round, Mershano,” I said as I opened the door. “My answer . . .” My smile died as I met a pair of icy blue eyes that were nothing like Will’s dark ones.
“Ryan,” I breathed.
“Hi, baby girl.”
2. Political Aspirations
My eyes darted to the chain on the door. I had it installed for moments like this, but being with Will had put my guard down. I didn’t even think to check before I opened the door either.
Ryan didn’t ask if he could come in. He never did. Just pushed the heavy wood forward and me backward along with it. He looked immaculate in his designer suit, his brown hair styled to perfection and his demeanor intimidating. It used to be a look that made my mouth water. Now all it did was push ice through my veins.
Six months.
We went six months without seeing each other. No calls, no notes, no nasty emails or unexpected late-night visits. I had taken it as a sign that maybe, finally, he was letting me go.
I walked away from him three years ago. It took considerable effort and help from an old friend to do it, but it happened. Ryan had tried for weeks to force me “home,” showing up every day at my friend’s apartment with a new taunt. It’d been the hardest months of my life, but I’d survived.
Because of Mark . . .
If he hadn’t been home that day . . .
But he was.
The memory of that afternoon elicited a grimace, as it always did. I hated that I couldn’t escape Ryan on my own, but I also acknowledged that reaching out to Mark for help was what empowered me. It gave me back my freedom. Or at least a semblance of it.
But Ryan had it in his head that he was the one who proposed a temporary break, which happened several months after I originally left him.
“You focus on your career, baby girl. I’ll be back when we’re both ready.” It’d been a taunt and a promise all wrapped up in one, and it haunted my nightmares.
Because he did, in fact, show up when and where he wanted and contacted me at least once every other week in some shape or form.
Then he vanished around the holidays, and I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d moved on or found someone else to obsess over.
But no.
It was a naive notion.
And I knew better.
Ryan Albertson did not simply forget about the things he deemed to be his property. He gave them space on occasion, but he always came back to check on what he considered to be his.
He didn’t waste any time in searching my apartment, checking my bedroom first, the bathroom, and then the guest room. The words, Get the fuck out, lodged in my throat, unable to escape. Standing up to him always made it worse. Playing along worked best. My hand trembled as it slipped into my pocket to find my phone. Two clicks and it would dial Sarah. I waited to see his expression before I made my decision. He might hide behind a mask of handsome perfection for the outside world, but he never hid from me.
“Is Sarah coming or leaving?” he wondered, noting the boxes.
I cleared the emotion from my throat. “She’s moving out.” Lying was only a short-term solution. He always checked what I told him, and the repercussions for a lie were far worse than the truth. Ryan’s political connections were vast and terrifying. He’d threatened to have me disbarred more than once, and I had no doubt he could do it.
“Good. I never liked her.” He smoothed a hand down his tie as he turned toward me with an adoring look that made my insides churn. How many times had he used those eyes on me and won?
I’m sorry, Rachel.
I love you.
I’ll never do it again. I promise.
Those eventually turned into something much worse.
I own you.
You would be nothing without me.
Shut up, or I’ll do it again.
I shivered at the onslaught of memories. They felt so fresh despite being several years old. I barely survived him once, but sometimes I wondered if I ever really did. He seemed to think this separation was temporary. That I would eventually be his again and just needed time to grow my career first.
He called it an experiment, to see how it would help his already prestigious position to date around and build politically favorable relationships. But I was still his girl, the one he would wed one day when the time was right. And I didn’t have a say in it.
Most days, I wondered who left whom, because I could swear I was the one who broke off the engagement. Granted, I never did say the words. That would have required Ryan to be there the day I woke up alone on the floor.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” he murmured, cupping my cheek. I caressed my phone, debating whether or not to dial Sarah. This close, he would hear it ring. And that would infuriate him. I had too many meetings this week to risk one of his lessons. Walking in with a black eye never impressed anyone. “What have you been up to?”
“Working.” I tried to swallow but couldn’t. Not with him touching me. “A lot.”
“Mmm, I think you work too hard. Always have.”
Yes, that was a point of contention between us. He wanted me to be a Barbie doll stay-at-home wife who attended his political functions and looked pretty on his arm.
It didn’t start that way. He used to encourage my studies and even applauded my high marks. We went out to celebrate the day Baker Brown offered me a position after I graduated from Northwestern.
Then things started to change.
The signs were always there, but I didn’t understand them. He showered me with love and affection, and I thought it was the rigorousness of law school keeping me from seeing my friends and family. But it was him. Always him. And when I finally broke and told him I couldn’t take it anymore, he punished me. Severely. After I regained consciousness, I called the only person I trusted to help. Mark.
My neck ached just thinking about that day.
Three years ago, I swore never to be that weak woman again, and I’d avoided powerful, high-handed men ever since.
Until Will.
The thought of him sent a chill down my spine.
Did Ryan see us together? Is that why he’s here now?
He always found out about my dates in the past, which was one of the reasons I stopped going out with men. The one time I tried a one-night stand, it also ended badly, hence my vow of celibacy.
I wasn’t entirely sure how Ryan knew so much, but I suspected he had someone following me. Or maybe he used electronic means to monitor my movements. Both alternatives unnerved me and left me in a constant state of caution. I thought twice about every email I sent, and I refused every come-on regardless of whether I wanted the man or not. Sarah understood more than most, but I never told her everything. Not even close.
His hand slipped to the back of my neck as he tried to pull me in for a kiss. My palms went to his chest, holding him back. The fact that he let me was an indicator of his mood.
“Ryan,” I managed, throat dry. “Sarah will be back any minute.” A complete lie, one that would surely cost me later if he ever found out. “It’s her last night in the city.”
“Ah, girls’ night in, then?”
“Yes.”
That seemed to appease him, which indicated he didn’t know about dinner at La Rosas. Not yet, anyway.
“Well, I suppose I can allow that. But I want to see you later this week. There’s a fundraiser on Friday night, and I need a date.”
I barely suppressed my snort. “We’re not dating, Ryan.”
“So come with me as a friend.” His r
easonable tone was one he used often with his colleagues. Not me. Which was why I hesitated before replying. What are you up to?
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” I said slowly.
His brow furrowed. “Why?”
Because I hate you.
Because you ruined my life.
Because you scare the shit out of me.
If there was a door separating us, I would say any number of those things. But we were both standing in my apartment, alone. And face-to-face. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me, and calling the police wasn’t an option. Ryan had too many friends in high places.
“Because I’m not ready,” was my lame excuse.
He sighed and dropped his hand into a fist at his side. “Not this again. You’re not getting any younger, Rachel. When are we going to move past this?”
I bristled a little at that but managed to bite my tongue. Years of experience dealing with him kept me in line. “I’m only thirty, Ryan.” If anyone is getting older, it’s you. Though, he still looked the same as he did twelve years ago when we met during my freshman year at Northwestern. He was a senior at the time.
“And,” I continued, “I don’t know if I’m ready to start things up with you again. You’re busy with work, right? It’s been a few months since I last saw you.”
I kept a hopeful note in my voice, encouraging him to talk about his political aspirations instead of us. It worked, as he dove into a fifteen-minute diatribe about his campaign schedule for the US Senate. The current republican in office was stepping down in two years, and Ryan seemed the obvious choice. It chilled me how many people couldn’t see through his pretentious facade, but then I remembered I used to be one of them.
“Okay, baby girl. If you’re not ready for this Friday, then fine. I understand that it’s short notice. But I need you to start attending functions with me.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You understand, right?”
I hated those three words. Especially from him.
I didn’t understand why he seemed hell-bent on destroying my life. What did I do to deserve it? But I nodded anyway and bit my lip to keep it from trembling.
It was amazing how I could go from having a mostly fun evening, to torment, in the span of seconds. What would have happened if I let Will in before Ryan arrived?
Nothing good.
“That’s my girl,” Ryan murmured, kissing me on the forehead like I was five. “I’ll call you later this week or have my secretary send you an agenda, okay?”
I nodded again, but I had no intention of following through with anything. And knowing Ryan, he’d forget to call me anyway. He usually did. Then he’d show up again in a month or two, demanding the same thing.
But something was different about the way he looked at me this time. The way he gently brushed his fingers down my cheek to the base of my neck. He usually tried to kiss me now, but instead, he trailed his nails down to my hand and gave it a light squeeze.
“Soon, baby. Soon.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I opened my mouth to tell him, but as always, the words clogged in my throat. I hated how inferior he made me feel, how childish and alone.
My stomach knotted as heat caressed my neck. I faced men like him every day and always held my ground, but Ryan crumbled my resolve with a single look. Maybe it was because I let him inside my heart and allowed him to dampen my fire and crush my dreams. No one else ever came close, a defense mechanism I put in place after picking up the pieces of my life. But the second he waltzed through the door, I went back to that place he left me in, and quivered like a little girl. His little girl.
He brushed my cheek once more and let himself out. I stood shivering in the foyer, staring after him with a mix of fury and fear. My fists curled, and my desire to break something took over. I picked up the closest thing to me, a vase filled with flowers Evan bought Sarah earlier this week, and shattered it against the door.
“Fuck you,” I managed, seething both at myself for my weakness and at the man who put me here. Just when I thought my old self had finally resurfaced, Ryan tore it down.
This was why I couldn’t say yes to Will’s proposal. No matter how much he sweetened the deal, I would never work for him. I already had one dominant man ruling my life. Two would absolutely destroy me.
The Charmer’s Gambit
He set his sights on the wrong girl.
Me.
Law school taught me a lot of things, but nothing prepared me to deal with this determined, hotter-than-Hell millionaire. Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But resisting Will Mershano is harder than passing the bar. He’s everything: sexy, confident, intelligent. And he wants me.
When he hires my firm to represent Mershano Vineyards, I’m left with no choice but to work right alongside him—or forfeit my job. There’s only one problem. He doesn’t know about my past or how it stalks me at every turn. All he wants is a little flirtatious fun, but Will’s playing a dangerous game.
And there’s more at stake than just my heart. . .
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Music Playlist
The Prince’s Game
Addicted - Saving Abel
Battlefield - Lea Michele
Body Electric - Lana Del Rey
Don’t Let Me Go - RAIGN
Failure - Breaking Benjamin
Hell of a Ride - Saving Abel
I Ran - Hidden Citizens
I’m So Sorry - Imagine Dragons
Rockabye - Clean Bandit
Take Out the Gunman - Chevelle
The Sex is Good - Saving Abel
Way Down We Go - Kaleo
When the Truth Hunts You Down - Sam Tinnesz
Wicked Game - Ursine Vulpine
About the Author
Lexi C. Foss is a writer lost in the IT world. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and their furry children. When not writing, she’s busy crossing items off her travel bucket list. Many of the places she’s visited can be seen in her writing, including the mythical world of Hydria which is based on Hydra in the Greek islands. She’s quirky, consumes way too much coffee, and loves to swim.
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Also by Lexi C. Foss
Mershano Empire Series
Book One: The Prince’s Game
Book Two: The Charmer’s Gambit
Book Three: The Devil’s Denial
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Immortal Curse Series
Book One: Blood Laws
Book Two: Forbidden Bonds
Book Three: Blood Heart
Book Four: Angel Bonds
Bad Girls Series*
Daughter of Death
*The Bad Girls Series is a 2018 collaboration between 12 authors releasing one book a month about kick-ass women with a penchant for being bad. For more details, click here.