by Stone, Piper
I was dead wrong.
The sick feeling pooling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t because of any threat or accusations made. The fear that had remained was because I’d heard the word before, this time whispered in a husky tone, one of absolute possession.
“Mine.”
As promised, Christian had indeed kept his word.
I was nothing more than collateral.
I stood in the middle of a beautiful but sparse bedroom, angry as hell but mostly at myself. I began to pace the floor, still shaking from the wretched incidents at the reception as well as the memory that I’d long since thought meant nothing. I’d known from an early age our families were bitter enemies, my father intent on destroying Nicolas Capodanno. Even though they were both Council members, the two men had sparred on everything. Every decision. Every direction. I’d only heard bits and pieces, sneaking around my father’s office when he’d been performing items of business inside the house.
I’d heard him curse the name of the family, Christian included, on several occasions. Whatever hatred had been born years before continued to be a thorn in the Council’s side. I’d even been forced to leave a particular school because Christian’s brother had been in my class, becoming my friend. Maybe this wretched marriage had been the Council’s method of forcing a truce. The entire community pretended the contents of the Box weren’t orchestrated, going along with the decisions made by the Council like sheep. In my mind, they were pawns waiting for the slaughter.
So they were wealthy. So what? Money certainly didn’t buy happiness.
How did Christian fit into all of this? Was he just like his father, simply ready to take over one of the seats on the Council? Growling, I closed my eyes.
I’d been a young girl with a crush, one from afar given all the celebrations and other sect events we’d been required to attend. I’d been thin, even frail from a long illness, kept like a prized possession in a gilded cage, certainly not the strong-willed woman I’d become.
Christian had been an enigmatic powerhouse even at his young age, drawing me into his dark web from the very moment I’d laid eyes on him. He’d been all I’d ever thought about.
I hissed under my breath, anger resurfacing.
Christian had never shown any sign of interest. He was already a man on a mission, soon to graduate college and move on with his life, far removed from the rest of us. But we’d both been required to attend a party, another glorious occasion after a baby girl had been christened.
Then a wretched moment had shattered the beautiful afternoon; a brutal accident claiming the life of the infant child, injuring several others. Even though my memory was foggy, I’d known that Christian’s strong arms had rescued me, pulling me from the cold water. In the tragic aftermath, a promise had been made. A dark oath I finally had to accept was nothing more than a threat.
That he’d somehow made come true.
Damn...
Then again, maybe I was wrong about the entire event. There wasn’t a single member of the community who’d ever talked about the tragedy again, including my parents.
I’d caught the tightness in Christian’s jaw at the wedding, the angry look in his eyes and his demeanor had nothing to do with my defiance or even the forced arrangement. He was worried about our two families sparking into flames, destroying our community piece by piece. I on the other hand didn’t think that was such a bad idea.
I’d gotten under his skin, riling him several times. I’d seen the way his nostrils flared, his jaw clenching from a few words of rebellion. I’d found a weakness, one I would use when necessary. For now, I had few options.
I’d heard him talking about our honeymoon, as if I wanted to go anywhere with him. Maybe I could find a way to get out of his clutches. The dichotomy of thoughts was giving me a vicious headache.
I stood in a bedroom that didn’t belong to me, staring at the suitcases that had been brought from my apartment. I’d been banished to this room in Christian’s house as if I were a small child, another round of punishment after one harsh spanking. I groaned given every step I took I was reminded of the humiliation I’d endured. Being spanked in front of a solid two hundred people was horrifying. The shame would remain with me for months, as well as the vile anger.
The whirlwind of planning a wedding, although I’d had very little to do with any of it, had rocked my world. I’d been forced to sign the contract under duress, my father standing over me as if he was proud he was selling me off like cattle. I’d cried my eyes out for an entire day before I’d been forced to face reality. However, I’d been the one to agree to the contract. It was my name on the various pieces of paper.
Even if there could be a divorce, the fortune provided by the Box was interwoven between two families. I had the distinct feeling our marriage was tied to their wealth in other ways. My stomach was in knots at the thought.
I’d attempted to make a plan, all while boxing up what I cared about, which I learned was very little. The rest was going to Frannie or Goodwill. As stated in the contract, I would want for nothing as long as I obeyed.
I hadn’t seen my fiancé until the rehearsal dinner and even then, we’d sat on opposite lengths of the table. I’d used the few days prior to the wedding wisely, researching every scrap of information I could find not only on Christian but the entire Capodanno family.
I knew there were ugly secrets, the kind that could destroy their entire regime and at this moment, all I wanted was revenge.
While Christian kept his business decisions close to the vest, his father was gregarious in making certain everyone with any influence understood his power and strength. Nicolas Capodanno was a carbon copy of my father.
Now they’d be forced to become friends. I almost laughed at the revelation. They’d both vied to be the supreme leader of the sect given our families were two of the original members. The other members of the Council certainly had no intention of agreeing.
I glared at my own reflection, finally walking closer to the dresser. The chaste kiss after the ceremony had been expected; the fornication in his office hadn’t, although the taste of him still lingered on my lips. Sultry. Masculine.
Desirable.
His scent covered my body, intoxicating to the point I was lightheaded.
What I loathed the most about this entire situation was the fact I was attracted to him. Everything about the man reeked of domination from the way he walked into a room, commanding full attention, to the formidable looks he gave those around him. As if he was top dog.
As if he knew their innermost secrets and had the capability of destroying them.
Christian was the embodiment of a bad boy, although he’d almost never been photographed engaging in any humiliating or incriminating acts. He was the epitome of polished, although I’d witnessed the gruff interior, a beast clawing at the surface, desperate for freedom.
I brushed my fingers against my neck, remembering every detail about his whispered words of ownership. Using me.
Breaking me.
My body had remained an electric wire throughout the ceremony and reception, humming and arcing every time he came within close proximity. I’d seen the sheer lust in his violet eyes, the way he studied my every move, ready to devour me at a moment’s notice.
The way he’d entered his office had been nothing more than a predator hunting its prey, prepared to cage his special trophy.
Then the moments shared less than an hour before had been amazing, allowing another layer of the complicated man to be seen.
The shame of my body’s burning desire also remained, a ticking time bomb in many ways. While the attraction we shared was intense and powerful, riveting in every manner, there was no other way of describing what would occur under the expensive cotton sheets other than pure sin. I’d been taught to be a good girl, to remain virtuous until marriage. I wasn’t perfect, my deepest yearning a reminder of my own needs.
The goosebumps covering my skin and the hardness of my nipples t
old no lies. I was attracted to him. I wanted the touch of his fingers lingering against my neck, his hot breath cascading across my cheek. I turned away from the mirror, thoroughly revolted with myself, moving quickly toward the cases.
My pulse quickened as I heard footsteps and while there was no doubt the caterers were still cleaning up from the party, they would never be allowed on the second floor.
He was coming.
The man I’d fantasized about.
The man who’d married me.
The man who would fuck me. Use me.
I backed as far away from the door as possible, uncertain what to expect. Was this Jekyll or Hyde?
The knock on the door instead of him bursting inside was unexpected.
“Yes?” I asked and the meekness in my voice was telling. A part of me was thrilled to see him.
Another part was determined to keep him out of my life.
When Christian walked into the room, he wasn’t the larger than life man I’d taken vows with or the bastard who’d claimed me in his office. This man was one I almost didn’t recognize. He’d changed clothes, now standing in a crisp white polo and stonewashed jeans that fit his sculpted body like a glove, the material clinging to his lean hips. He was far more boyish than I’d seen him, the thick shirt doing little to hide his rugged features, muscular abs that were almost too perfect.
He was a disciplined man in every manner, but tonight he held an air of uncertainty, as if he had absolutely no idea what to do with me.
His stare was ice cold, his violet eyes penetrating. I was pitched into a state of intense heat, pinpricks washing over me, infusing every cell. Damn it, why did he have this kind of effect on me?
In his hand were two glasses of red wine, another surprise given his chastisement of my earlier behavior.
“I thought we could talk, maybe sit by the pool.” His husky voice had the same effect as before, sending my mind into a vacuum.
“O-kay.” My voice was little more than a whisper.
He hesitated before walking closer, merely holding out the wine for me to grasp. I think I realized at that moment that so much of the man was about grandstanding for an audience. When he was alone, or even with me, he was uncomfortable as hell.
Another weakness.
But this one was endearing.
Our fingers touched, the brush of skin against skin searing every nerve ending. I envisioned his stain remaining on my skin, branding me as his own. The thought was just as ridiculous as any of the others, although I could tell he was feeling the same sensations, his hand lingering for a few seconds too long.
“I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes,” he said mostly under his breath, almost immediately heading for the door. “I do hope you’ll be comfortable here. You can do anything you’d like with the room. It’s yours. I will honor the space.”
I don’t know why the statement surprised me. Perhaps I’d expected to be tied to his bed or worse, locked in a cage. I’d expected a brutal man who refused to take no for an answer. This man was someone else entirely. “Thank you.”
He offered a slight smile before walking out.
I noticed the gun positioned in the small of his back. While I hadn’t noticed security detail of any kind, I’d known by instinct they were keeping watch, especially given the lack of police presence. I was also forced to accept that there were many aspects regarding my husband that I didn’t know about.
I heard his heavy footsteps as he walked down the flight of stairs and for the life of me, I couldn’t move for a full minute. I merely kicked off my heels and studied my face in the mirror one last time. The reflection staring back at me was no happier, just more inquisitive.
Even though I’d changed clothes earlier, daring to bring Frannie to the room I’d been assigned, I hadn’t paid any attention to Christian’s brand new house. While this would never be my home, no matter how much decorating he encouraged me to do or time I’d be forced to spend in it, I had to admit he had excellent tastes. My parents’ house was much more traditional, a home they’d found and refurbished in Sagaponack thirty years before. While beautiful, I’d always found the expansive rooms stuffy.
Then again, that suited my father. The grander the better.
Christian’s recently purchased home was situated in Montauk, the house close to the water. While he’d certainly attempted to furnish the various rooms prior to the ceremony, I could tell he didn’t have his heart in it. Hell, I certainly didn’t want to live here, preferring the traffic and noise, the pollution and amazing restaurants in New York City to any concept of beach life.
I’d located his posh penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue, the heavily guarded building home to dignitaries and celebrities.
And dangerous men.
We were both stuck.
I walked through the kitchen just as the caterer was removing the last items, leaving the kitchen just as sparse as when they’d arrived. There were no potholders or towels hung on bars, no plants or pots and pans hung on the magnificent overhead copper rack. There were simply state of the art appliances, granite counters that likely cost more than my rent for a year, and a polished floor you could eat off of.
Cold.
Just like the man.
I moved toward the set of French doors, peering out at the illuminated pool. Christian sat on one of the Adirondack chairs he’d pulled close to the edge, staring at the colorful shimmering lights. There was only a sliver of a moon but enough I could tell he was in a dark place. For some ridiculous reason, my hands were shaking, my fingers so numb I could barely hold onto the glass.
He didn’t react in any manner when I walked outside, merely sipping on his wine and concentrating on some spot in the middle of the pool.
The air was brisk, my bare feet chilled from the cool decking, and the steam rising from the water created an ominous appearance. I remained quiet as I eased into the oversized chair, pulled so close I could almost dangle my legs into the water. The back of the house was mostly glass, the ocean mere footsteps away. I could only imagine how expensive the purchase had been.
He said nothing, which was both confounding and irritating as hell. His two distinctive personalities were interesting. I had the feeling he was like a caged animal, thick chains surrounding his neck. He would break them one day and when he did, I knew the response would be horrific.
“The pool is gorgeous,” I said quietly, hoping to engage him in normal conversation. I rolled my eyes at the thought.
He remained quiet.
“We could take a swim. The water is obviously heated.”
The creak of wood coming from his chair was followed by a deep sigh. “I’ve never had time to swim. I don’t even own a swimsuit.”
“Why did you buy this house then?” I asked. His words were an excuse. I didn’t blame him. I’d spent years overcoming my fear of the water, choking on nightmares and visions until I’d been forced to see a shrink. My thoughts shifted to a shameful moment of wicked thoughts, almost spouting off that there was no reason to use swimsuits. I couldn’t chastise myself enough.
He exhaled, taking another sip before answering. “You know the reason. We were required by the terms of the contract to live in the Hamptons a majority of the year.” The words were so practiced, laced with utter contempt.
“You aren’t a man who seems like you’re willing to accept being coerced. You could have refused. We could have remained in the city, a place we both prefer to this vicious lie.”
“Fascinating that you think so.” The snort was followed by a short laugh. “So tell me, why did you sign the contract? You could have balked against it, breaking the tradition. You have a decent job in the city allowing you a clean albeit small apartment. You’re very frugal with your money, saving almost every dime not allotted to bills. That’s how you afforded your truck and have enough money in the bank for a full year of law school.”
The depths to which he’d go were almost astounding, but I wasn’t incensed. I’d gone
as far in educating myself about him as possible. “I could have, yes. I’d planned on doing so.” But I feared I would be killed. I couldn’t believe I was thinking that way.
He slowly turned his head. “Then why didn’t you?”
I tried to come up with some plausible answer. “The only reason I have is that family still means something to me. You know, loyalty. Besides, my mother would take the brunt of the difficult decisions I made from my father.” As she always had.
Christian eased his head against the chair, laughing in a gregarious fashion.
“That’s not funny in the least. Maybe your parents are different, but mine are like descendants from the nineteen fifties. My father is a harsh man. I’m not certain he loves anyone but himself.”
“The supreme leader, just like my father. I’m not laughing at you or the situation, Stephanie. My parents are exactly the same. The doting wife. The all-consuming husband. That’s why I ran far away.”
“But you came back and that’s exactly how you want to be now. Dominating. In control of the household.”
He simply took a swig of wine, finishing off the glass and hopping out of the chair, swaggering toward one of the tables. “I never wanted this dynamic, always loathed this cult we were born into. I have vile thoughts regarding Father McGivney, but as you stated, family and loyalty do mean something. As far as my dominating side, that has nothing to do with the sect or the rituals or the damn Box. I excel in business and in pleasure because I am very careful in my selections and I control every aspect. Do I require the utmost obedience from my employees? Absolutely, but that has fared well for men and women who generally earn bonuses in excess of fifty thousand dollars every year.”
I heard the conviction in his voice, could tell he was speaking from whatever heart he’d forged based on his particular needs.
“Money stained with blood,” I huffed.
He seemed genuinely surprised by my accusations. “I assure you that up until now the majority of my operations have been legitimate. I’ve taken pride in building several businesses within the corporate realm from the ground up, taking others that were failing and turning them around. Saving jobs. Increasing benefits.”
