by B. B. Hamel
I tried not to let him see how much that excited me. “That might be fine.”
He smiled as if he saw through me. “Or I could have Charleigh pick everything out. She has very good taste. It was part of her upbringing, you see. Any cultured young woman should be able to plan a wedding with little or no notice. It’s in her blood.”
“It’s not in mine.”
“I said cultured.” He raised his eyebrows.
“You dick.”
“What do you think? Are you interested in a Charleigh special? She’ll love it. Mother’s quite good.”
“I want to go dress shopping.” I hesitated and glanced around the tastefully decorated room. I had no doubt that his mom would put on a magnificent ceremony.
It was only that I didn’t want any wedding at all.
“Very good. Penny is free today. I’ll put it together.”
“But I have some conditions.”
“Conditions for dress shopping?” He tilted his head and ran a finger along his coffee cup.
One of the fingers that slipped inside my pussy and made me come.
I met his eyes and tried not to shiver.
“Three conditions for this marriage.”
He looked amused. “Let’s hear them.”
“First condition is you can’t hurt Cassie. I know you’re going to war with Roman, but you have to leave her out of it.”
“Did you know that she made that exact same deal with Roman? It’s almost adorable how the two of you are getting sucked into our world and still trying your best to keep each other alive.”
“Will you do it or not?”
“I have no reason to kill Cassie.”
I understood the unspoken part: he had every reason to kill Roman.
“The second condition is I will not have anything to do with my father.”
His face faltered slightly. “That might be a problem.”
“That’s for you to solve then. I won’t speak to him. I won’t go see him. If you want to convince him to lend you his support or whatever the hell you’re thinking, that’s on you. I won’t be involved.”
Heavy silence. I knew this would be a hard sell. Part of marrying me was getting access to my father and his fund—but Darren could slit my throat and drink my blood before I ever went back home.
“And your last condition?” He asked it angrily, grudgingly.
“Agree to the second first.”
“I agree to keep you as far from him as I can. I can’t promise more.”
I worked my jaw. We stared each other down.
Funny how the night before I couldn’t get enough of this man.
Now I wanted to throw him out a window.
“My last condition is I won’t have your children.”
His mouth fell open.
I tried not to smile. That was the hoped-for response.
Last night, after he left, I fell asleep, but I didn’t stay asleep. I woke up around three in the morning and couldn’t get back down.
I paced the room over and over, thinking about what we’d done—and okay, I’ll admit that I touched myself a little bit and considered a booty call, but I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m horny really late at night—when I realized something.
Darren cared about family. If he married me, that meant he wanted me to have his children, to carry on the Servant name.
His sisters could have children, but they wouldn’t be his. And they could have the wrong last name.
Anthony could pass along the Servant name, but Anthony wasn’t a full-blooded sibling. Not that it really mattered, but to someone like Darren, it might.
Which meant he had to reproduce.
And I had leverage.
“That’s not how marriage works.”
“That’s how our marriage will work. Maybe we can adopt one day, but if we get married, I want you to get a vasectomy. And I’ll expect proof.”
His hands gripped the edge of the table. “Unacceptable.”
“Then we don’t have to get married.”
“I need children.” He leaned toward me, speaking in a low, angry rumble. “You need to have my children. You must understand how important that is.”
“I do, and it’s why I’m using it against you.” I smiled sweetly and batted my eyes. “You can force me all you want, but you can’t make me have kids. I have control over that.”
“There are ways.” His eyes blazed.
I had no doubt that was true. He could get me pregnant then lock me away in some room.
But I’d still find a way to stop it.
I stared back and tried to muster as much of my willpower as I could. I would not break down or give into this man any more than I already did.
I was his captive. He stole me from my life and wanted to use me against my best friend and her husband. He was a monster, a bastard—and I didn’t care if he had good reasons to hate Roman.
It didn’t matter if I loved his family, or at least Penny.
If he wanted me, it would be on my terms.
The silence was ten inches of snow on a barren field.
“It’s your choice,” I said finally, softly, nearly a whisper.
He leaned forward. His lips parted. He was so angry. I knew he wanted to lash out at me—to pull my hair or spank my ass.
He liked my body.
No, he worshipped me.
Another thing I could use again him—if only I didn’t love the way he took me just as much.
“Why do you have to make this impossible?”
“Because I never wanted any of this to begin with. You’ve manipulated and steered me down this road.”
“Last night was not a manipulation.” His words were husky and sent a wild feverish chill on my skin. My pussy tingled at forbidden memories. “That was the truth.”
“It was sex.”
“Extremely good sex. The first of many nights.”
“We can fuck all we want, but there won’t be any babies.”
“God damn it, Winter. I want you. I want children with you.”
“And I want to be free. We all make sacrifices.”
He leaned forward. I leaned in to meet him.
I wanted him to grab me. I wanted his rough hands on my body. He could hurt me, make me moan and bleed, or he could give me more pleasure than I ever dreamed.
It was all mixed together in some unholy fucked-up braid. And I never wanted to get away from it.
Only I needed power. Otherwise, he’d consume me, take everything and leave me bare.
This was my way to claim some small amount of strength for myself.
“All right.” I heard the intense hatred and sorrow. “I’ll accept your conditions, but I think you’re making a mistake.”
My stomach twisted into knots.
Some insane part of me hoped he’d refuse. Maybe we’d fight, maybe not.
But I never dreamed he’d simply give me what I wanted.
“Then I’ll marry you.”
“If I had a ring, I’d propose.”
“You should work on that.”
“I should.” His eyes glittered, but I saw the deep wells of sadness there.
No children. Not with me at least.
It hurt him deeply. And some part of me felt ripped to pieces as well.
Could I really make him do that? Could I give up on a family for myself?
I didn’t know, but I had to make him think I would.
I set my jaw and pushed back from the table.
“Tell Penny I’m ready whenever she is.”
“I’ll have her fetch you from your room.”
I walked to the door. I hated myself for what I just did to him.
And yet he fucking deserved it.
I looked back. His eyes drilled into me like lightning.
I tore myself away and nearly ran.
There was no dignity left, not for me. I’d stripped myself bare in front of Darren and showed him my heart.
He t
ook it and feasted.
Now I was trying to crawl back from the dead, to find some tiny piece of what I’d lost.
I could be that man’s wife. I could even enjoy it.
But if I didn’t keep something away from him, I’d never be free.
And I could live like that, even with that gorgeous prince, that beast, that killer.
19
Penny
Winter looked so incredibly depressed as we stepped into the boutique dress shop that I almost told her we could turn around and leave.
Except we really couldn’t. She needed a dress, and besides, I doubted I’d ever get married so this might be my only chance.
“Ladies.” An older blonde woman stepped out from behind the desk. “You must be Penny and Winter. Welcome to my little store. My name’s Miss Aubrey and I’ll be your assistant today.” She beamed and had the ageless look of a woman with a good surgeon.
She reminded me of my mother.
I slipped my hand through Winter’s arm and tugged her along as we stepped into the back room. It was large, with a long rack of dresses along one wall, a sitting area in the center, and a stage with multiple mirrors around it at the other side. Miss Aubrey poured champagne and stepped toward the dresses.
“Which shall we try today?”
I bit my lip and looked at Winter.
She stared at the clothes like she’d never seen them before in her life.
I tried not to sigh.
Darren was making both the best decision of his life and the biggest mistake. Winter was a great girl—I genuinely liked her, even though I’d only known her for a short time—and because of that, he shouldn’t force her into anything.
And yet I knew how this life worked.
I didn’t like it. I didn’t agree with it.
Heck, sometimes, I really freaking hated it.
But that was how it went. Darren was an Oligarch, and for better or for worse, he did what he had to do.
“How about we find something together?” I offered, nudging Winter slightly.
She nodded once. She was so pretty: big, wide eyes, pouty lips, thick hair. I knew why my brother liked her.
I led her to the rack and we started browsing. I picked out a few pieces, not bothering to look at labels or prices. A few mermaid dresses with different necklines, a few gowns, several A-lines, even a few separates (although I seriously doubted my mother would ever allow that). Winter chose two dresses: a conservative sheath, and a very pretty lacy dress with a deep neckline and understates sequins.
Miss Aubrey squealed and cooed at every choice and set them aside on a smaller rack. When we had six dresses, Winter was hustled up onto the stage, and Miss Aubrey practically started to undress her.
Winter slapped the woman’s hands away. “I can do this, thanks.”
Miss Aubrey looked outraged. I suppressed a smile. She probably wasn’t used to girls with a little spine.
“We can take it from here, thank you, Miss Aubrey.” I smiled sweetly at her like a good, well-bred girl. “She’s just a little nervous.”
Miss Aubrey nodded and quickly hid her annoyance. “Of course. Call if you need anything.” She fled into the other room.
Winter looked at herself in the mirror. I stepped up onto the stage next to her and leaned on her shoulder.
“You know the cliché about girls and their weddings?” she asked, frowning at herself.
“Sure, how we all dream about our wedding day?”
“I never got that. I always thought weddings were creepy. I’m supposed to dress up in white and pretend to be all perfect and virginal? And all that attention? No thank you.”
I laughed. “You don’t want to feel like a princess?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Think about it this way. The hotter you are, the more power you’ll have over my brother.”
She laughed and covered her mouth, blushing. I grinned at her.
“Aren’t you not supposed to say something like that? I mean, you should be on his side.”
“Oh, he doesn’t need my help. Darren always gets what he wants.” I rolled my eyes. “Now come on, let’s get you all dressed up.”
We started with one of my dresses, a pretty A-line that suited her beautifully. She had a really nice figure—shockingly nice, actually. I’m not all that into girls, but I could appreciate the female form, and there was a lot to appreciate on Winter. She stood in front of the mirrors, glaring at herself.
“I hate it.”
“Oh, come on. Look at you! I’d bang you. Seriously, I’m thinking about it.”
I really was. She was hot!
“Don’t be weird.” But she was smiling, which was my goal.
We got her out of that one and into a mermaid. It hugged her hips. She shimmied around, shaking her head. “Too tight. Can’t move. Can’t breathe.”
“We’ll get it altered.”
“No way. Next.”
She tried on a few more dresses. Each one was elegant and she looked incredible, but she always found a flaw: didn’t like the color, too many weird “stone thingies” (her words, not mine), didn’t like the fit or the style or whatever. Finally, she pulled on that conservative sheath dress she chose, and stepped back.
She was radiant. Somehow, covering more of her skin only made her that much more beautiful. The dress was tight and certain parts of it were nearly see-through, but only hinting at the body beneath made it that much more tempting.
We stood in awe and neither of us spoke.
“That’s the one,” I said, nodding. “Definitely the one.”
“I think you’re right.” She barked an amazed laugh. “I think I’d bang me in this dress.”
I held up my champagne glass and handed her one. She took it and we toasted.
“To getting married.”
“To your brother. Hopefully, he’s not always such a dick.” She threw back the champagne and looked at herself in the mirror again.
I only sipped my drink and set it aside.
I wanted to tell her everything: about Liv, about Darren, about why he was the way he was. She knew about Anthony and Roman and the attempted murder, but she didn’t understand why Roman would do something so horrendous. And how could she? It seemed inexcusable.
And it was, but I’d always felt like I could understand what might drive a man to do something like that, considering Anthony was named after Roman’s dead older brother.
That was the cherry on top of the fucked-up sundae and probably the one thing that really drove Roman into a homicidal rage.
It was hard not to lose it when you thought someone was born and bred to be a replacement for your family member.
I was speculating, of course. I didn’t actually know Roman’s reasons.
But Darren was too blind to that sort of thing. He could only see actions and consequences and never reasons and feelings.
“All little girls dream of their wedding day,” Winter said wistfully. “Except mine’s happening at the end of a gun.”
“Not exactly a gun. Well, okay, it won’t be pointed at you.”
She turned and grinned at me.
Then the shooting started.
I knew the sound right away. Winter did too apparently. Gunshots, loud and in the other room. I heard shouting, screams of pain. Miss Aubrey slammed through the door, covered in blood. She staggered once and fell over, bleeding from her chest, trying to gasp for air.
Winter went to run toward her, but I grabbed her wrist.
“This way,” I hissed, yanking her away.
We ran across the room. More gunshots, more shouting. I didn’t know if our guards were winning or losing, but based on the number of bullets getting expended out there, I’d guess losing by a lot.
I shoved through a door. Roman drilled this into me: always look for an exit. I staggered into a back room filled with shelves and racks. Dresses draped in bags were hung up and catalogued. Materials for repair were neatly kept in little bins a
nd tubs. A desk was pushed into a corner.
Another door at the far side.
I ran for it, dragging Winter with me.
“She could still be alive.” Winter tried to get away.
She wanted to help Miss Aubrey. God, what a nice person.
A stupid, very freaking dumb person, but so good.
I must’ve been broken, because all I could think about was survival.
“Come on.” I pulled her to the door and yanked it open.
A closet.
Winter groaned. I shoved her inside, got in next to her, and yanked it shut.
Brooms and cleaning supplies were shoved in next to toilet paper and paper towels. I felt a spiderweb cling to my face.
The gunshots continued. The shouting got louder and closer.
“We might die in here,” Winter whispered into my ear.
“Are you coming onto me right now?”
She laughed, hysterical and afraid. I was on the verge of freaking out too.
I was always in danger. My whole life was danger. Roman never let me forget that, not ever since Liv died.
But this was the closest it’d ever gotten.
“I’m just thinking how hilarious it’ll be, dying in a wedding dress.”
“A wedding dress you didn’t pay for and didn’t actually get married in.”
“God, what a nightmare.”
“Shh, quiet. I hear something.” I strained to listen.
The gunshots tapered off. Voices were nearby, talking loudly, angrily.
Someone slammed into the room beyond and began shoving over racks.
Another shout, another exchange. Winter squeezed my hand. I hugged her close, my heart racing wildly.
We were going to die.
Two gunshots. Loud, so loud. I squeezed my eyes shut. The closet was so dark. I wondered if they’d kill us right away, or drag us out and then shoot us.
I hoped they’d do it fast. I didn’t want to suffer.
I hoped I’d see Liv again.
God, I really missed her.
I thought of that night so many times since then. Wondered what I should do differently.
Not that it mattered anymore.
Footsteps coming close.
Winter clutched my arm tighter. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll find a way out. We’ll—”
