by Tori Leigh
I had no patience with her act. “I’m well aware of your precarious financial situation, but you shouldn’t be looking for sympathy from me. You’ve spent through the enormous sum of money your late husband left to you, and also, you’ve drained each daughter’s trust. And don’t tell me you spent it on Hawthorne Hall.”
I could smell the virgin outside the door, edging closer. Her scent made my throat burn, increasing my annoyance.
I stared Vivian Hawthorne down. “There’s nothing left, and you know it. You’re on the verge of bankruptcy. If I wait any longer to collect, it only means my interest would come behind that of your many other creditors.”
Crop-top’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t touch my trust, Mother—right? You saved it for me, didn’t you?”
“Of course, darling.”
But Mrs. Hawthorne was lying. I’d had our accountants do a deep dive into the family’s finances. They’d spend every cent, mostly on trivial things, luxury goods, designer clothes, spa visits and bottle service.
“I promise we’ll make good on our debt. We just need more time.” Mrs. Hawthorne’s voice remained calm, assured, but her heart couldn’t lie to me. It hammered inside her chest, desperate.
“Your promises are of no interest. Like I said, we’ve already exercised the clause. That’s why I’m here—to serve you notice.” I took the envelope from my pocket and shoved it into her hands. “You must vacate the premises in thirty days. Hawthorne Hall belongs to me now.”
The scent became stronger, washing over me. My erection pulsed beneath my suit, blind and unforgiving. What the hell? I prided myself on my control, but it seemed to have gone missing.
“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.” The young woman with the long dark hair appeared in the door.
Her natural perfume washed over me, and I was all but lost.
Entranced, I couldn’t help but stare. She was pale and lovely, her thick tresses flowing past her shoulders. She had the face of an angel. Long, thick lashes, cupid-bow lips, and dark eyes that flashed with curiosity. Her figure was incredible, luscious with curves, her perfectly round breasts swelling against the fabric of her thin sweater.
Her scent knocked me senseless, leaving me breathless and dazed. That she was a virgin, coupled with her particular brand of human perfume, pushed me to the edge. My erection raged. Christ. My fangs were about to pop out.
She stepped into the room, closer, and I had the wild thought of throwing her down in front of the fire and taking her right there. Easy. What the hell was the matter with me?
“Audrina,” Mrs. Hawthorne said sharply, “please leave us. Mr. Dalca’s here for a business meeting—it doesn’t concern you.”
The young woman’s gaze stayed fixed on me, her eyes filled with worry. It took every ounce of my strength to stand in place. My erection pulsed with need; my throat raged with thirst. I had to claim her. I would drink from her pale neck while I plundered her virginity, making her scream my name, mine and only mine…
“Did I hear you say something about the house?” The young woman, this Audrina, licked her lips.
“Audrina. Leave us at once.” Mrs. Hawthorne clenched her fists together, and I caught the scent of something nasty—a tang of cruelty in her blood. Has this woman dared harm a hair on this precious virgin’s head? I would make Vivian Hawthorne’s death slow, unbearable…
“Sir?” Audrina took a step closer, despite the increasingly angry look on her stepmother’s face.
Get your shit together, Gabriel. I straightened my shoulders. “I was speaking to Mrs. Hawthorne about a business matter. May I ask who you are?”
“She’s no one—”
The look I gave the little bitch in the crop-top stopped her cold.
“I’m Audrina Hawthorne.” The young woman raised her chin, as though her name gave her courage. “My father owned Hawthorne Hall. I’m on the deed, and I just turned eighteen—if there’s business to do with the house, I should be involved.”
“How interesting, Ms. Hawthorne. Your stepmother never mentioned you.” I smiled as Vivian Hawthorne shifted uncomfortably. She thought we didn’t know about this, but then again, she was an idiot. My brothers and I didn’t enter such deals without full knowledge of the legal interests. “And I’m sorry we haven’t been introduced before. My name is Gabriel Dalca.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Dalca. Can I ask what your interest is in Hawthorne Hall?” she asked—rather bravely, in my opinion. The stepmother and step-sister looked as though they were ready to burn her alive.
“I hold the mortgage. Mrs. Hawthorne has borrowed against the estate extensively, I’m sorry to report.” I smiled at her, not sorry at all. My mind, hazy with lust, went into imaginative overdrive. Perhaps there was a way to make use of this situation.
Audrina shook her head, long hair flying. “But she couldn’t have—she can’t do that—like I said, I’m on the deed. So is my little sister. Hawthorne Hall belongs to us.”
A plan began forming in my mind. It was crude, but her smell was making me insane.
“Audrina.” Saying her name made me shiver. “I’m afraid your stepmother entered into a valid contract as trustee of your father’s estate. She did so some years ago, when you were still a minor.”
“But she can’t do that—it’s not legal. She can’t mortgage what’s not hers.” The young woman’s heart beat rapidly beneath the swells of her breasts.
My mouth actually pooled with water, as though I were one of Pavlov’s dogs—or perhaps one of Iulian’s hellhounds. I forced myself to focus. “I can assure you that Mrs. Hawthorne had the legal capacity to enter into the agreement as trustee.”
Audrina’s gaze skipped from me to her stepmother, then back again. “But things have changed. I’m of age, now.”
“I’m afraid that doesn’t matter,” I said smoothly. “There’s a clause in the contract that supersedes any transfer in ownership—the debt can’t be voided. We’re taking possession of the property in thirty days, which is a gift that Mrs. Hawthorne doesn’t deserve. You need to make a contingency plan.”
“I don’t… I can’t… My father…” Her chest heaved as she turned to her stepmother, a stricken expression twisting her delicate features. “How could you do this?”
Mrs. Hawthorne faced Audrina without a trace of remorse. “Your father didn’t leave us enough money to handle the estate,” she said coldly, “and you and your sister cost far too much.”
“Me and Winnie?” The younger woman’s eyes turned fiery. She took a step toward her stepmother, her finger raised in pointed accusation. “You and Eva have blown through every dollar Dad left us—even our trust funds. There’s never money for food, but God forbid you miss a Botox appointment!”
She jabbed her finger toward the stepsister. “And Eva jaunts around with her freaking ass implants, swilling champagne and partying like a rockstar! When was the last time you said no to her, huh? She’s driving a freaking G-wagon and we don’t have a pot to piss in! This is your fault!”
“Ladies.” I backed from the room. “It’s been a pleasure. Please take care.”
The dark haired-beauty whirled, eyes wide. “Wait—wait! Isn’t there something we can do?”
“Please, Mr. Dalca.” Mrs. Hawthorne clasped her hands together. “Anything—we’ll do anything. Please don’t turn us out of our home.”
The women peered at me, their eyes beseeching, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to laugh.
Sometimes I was certain that although I was king of the underworld, the angels still favored me.
I stared at the virgin. Her intoxicating blood thrummed underneath the surface of her delicate, pale skin.
My crude plan might just work, after all.
4
AUDRINA
The gorgeous man in the suit—Mr. Dalca—hesitated by the door. If he left, all was lost.
“Please—I’ll do anything.” I almost threw myself onto my knees in front of him, all the better to
beg. “We can’t lose our home. It’s been in my family for generations.”
“There’s no way you’ll be able to repay the debt.” He frowned, looking as though he felt a bit sorry for me. “Your stepmother’s seen to that. She owes us millions.”
My eyes filled with angry tears. “But it’s my house.”
“I’m afraid it’s my house, now.” He raked a hand through his thick, black hair, making it stand up. “I am sorry, if that’s any consolation. But we don’t get involved in the personal situations behind these transactions.”
“I-I understand.” I licked my lips. I didn’t blame him—this was all Vivian’s fault. “But if there’s anything you can do… If there’s some way I could buy us some more time…”
His dark gaze fixed on me. I felt both hot and cold beneath his stare.
“Please.” I gathered my nerve and stepped forward, heart hammering in my chest. “Hawthorne Hall is all I have left of my father.”
“Then perhaps…” Mr. Dalca eyed me appraisingly, as though I was a rare steak and that was exactly what he’d been craving. “I might consider an alternative arrangement.”
I shivered. I couldn’t lose Hawthorne Hall. Winnie and I had grown up here, as had three generations of our family. I refused to let it go like this—mortgaged to the hilt by my materialistic step-monster.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “What sort of arrangement?”
The man smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. I shivered again as he said, “A trade. You will come with me, Ms. Hawthorne, and I will forgive the debt.”
Vivian clapped her hands together. “Forgiven! Ah, Mr. Dalca, what wonderful news!”
I glanced at Vivian—she was nuts, but maybe not as nuts as he was. “W-What?” I asked him. My throat felt like it was closing, making it hard to breathe. “You want me?”
Mr. Dalca raised his eyebrows, his dark eyes smoldering. “That’s what I said.”
For a moment, I stood, transfixed. Heat coursed through my body, suffusing my cheeks. The way he was staring made my head buzz. The man was crazy, but he was also drop-dead gorgeous. His massive chest strained against his dress shirt as he crossed his arms, causing his enormous biceps to pop—
“And if she agrees,” Vivian interrupted my hazy thoughts, “you’ll truly forgive the debt?”
“Woah—hold on, Vivian.” I shook my head as if to clear it. I wanted nothing more than to save my home, but I would never in a million years leave my little sister. “Nothing’s being forgiven. I’m not leaving Winnie, and I’m not going anywhere with Tall, Dark and Psycho.”
I coughed and met his gaze, which now seemed amused. “No offense.”
“None taken. It was an unusual offer—completely spontaneous. Probably also illegal.” He smirked. “I had no expectation that you would agree.”
I opened my mouth and found that I had no words, so I just gaped at him.
“Ah, I have overstayed my welcome.” He bowed his head. “I will see myself out. Enjoy the rest of your time at Hawthorne Hall. After the expiration of your grace period, anything left behind will be destroyed.” He swept from the room.
Vivian turned to me, her face white with rage. “Now you’ve gone and done it—we’re ruined!”
“I’ve gone and done it? You’re the one who defaulted on the mortgage!”
“All you have to do is go with the man!” Vivian’s eyes were wild. “That was it! You selfish, spoiled girl!”
That was it—something inside me cracked. I never lost control, but she’d pushed me too far. “You’re out of your freaking mind, Vivian!” I hollered back.
Her face went pale with shock. “How dare you speak to me like that.”
I took a step toward her. “You think I’m going to let some crazy dude lock me in his basement and eventually cut me up into little pieces? Who’s going to take care of my sister then, huh? It’s sure as hell not you!”
“You and your precious sister are going to have nothing, do you understand me? Nothing! And we’ll all be out on the street!” she seethed. “We could’ve gotten the estate back—you could’ve gotten it back. You and Winnie would own it outright on her eighteenth birthday.”
“But where will we go when that happens, Mother?” Eva sounded near-hysterical, as if she were the one with the actual problems.
“Oh shut up, Eva! You’ll be married by then—I have it all figured out.” Vivian’s icy-cold stare fixated on me. “But because of Audrina, I can guarantee you all is lost. We have no money, no credibility, nowhere to go. The other creditors are already circling us like vultures. We’ll be outcasts from society, ruined.”
Her bony fingers curled around her diamond necklace. “Winnie won’t be able to finish school here—how do you think she’ll like that? Being ripped from everything she’s ever known, her friends, the home she loves. She’ll be a pauper. Homeless. And as you have no remaining assets, you’ll never be able to care for her.” A hard glint crept into her eyes. “She’ll become a ward of the state.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I put my hands on my hips. “I’ll drop out of school—I’ll get a job and an apartment. I’ll take care of her. I’ll always take care of her.”
“You won’t get the opportunity.” Vivian smiled, some color returning to her cheeks. “I’ll tell child services that you have problems—bad ones. Drugs. Violent boyfriends. I’ll tell them you abuse the poor girl and have been for years. You will never be granted legal custody of that child, I assure you. And I won’t take her in. She’ll be in foster care before the holidays.”
Vivian actually smiled. That fucking bitch.
“You’re trying to manipulate me into getting what you want, but you’re crazy.” My head pounded. “This is exactly why I’d never go with that man—you think I’d leave Winnie alone here with you? If I leave, she’d have no one.”
Vivian’s ice-blue eyes swept over me. “She will have no one if you stay.”
“Screw you, Vivian. This is your fault.”
Vivian poured the rest of the Bordeaux into her glass. “Tell that to your sister when she’s living in an orphanage.”
I hustled from the room, my thoughts swirling so fast I felt ill. I made it to the foyer as the front door clicked shut. A moment later, tires crunched the gravel. I peered outside, just in time to see Mr. Dalca’s black Escalade speed from our driveway.
The last chance to save our home was gone forever.
Of course I didn’t sleep that night. Images of the meeting with Mr. Dalca haunted me—the handsome stranger’s face, his odd request, and Vivian’s cold calculations, meant to spur me into action.
I still couldn’t believe what he’d asked for—me. What on earth did a gorgeous billionaire land-baron want with a high-school senior? I mean, I could guess. He wanted to…use me.
My cheeks heated at the thought. Good luck, buddy. Not only was I a virgin, I had zero experience. If Mr. Dalca was looking for sophisticated sexy times, Eva would’ve been a much stronger choice. She’d had more boyfriends than I could count.
I still couldn’t figure him out. Surely a man of his stature had plenty of women at his beck and call. It wasn’t as if he was hard to look at—quite the opposite. His face was chiseled and beautiful, like one of the statues of the Greek gods at the museum. His hair was thick and dark, tousled above his prominent forehead. And his body… Let’s just say that the man could fill out a suit. He was tall and striking, with big shoulders and a massive chest that pressed against his dress shirt.
I fanned myself in the dark. Maybe I should’ve traded myself to him, after all…
After Mr. Dalca left, Vivian and Eva had locked themselves into the sitting room, likely cursing me. Several hours later, Eva’s SUV squealed out of the drive. She’d probably gone clubbing again, maxing out yet another credit card on bottle service. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t twenty-one. It didn’t matter that we were broke. She did whatever she wanted, bought whatever she wanted, went wherever she wanted, while Winnie
and I ate crackers for dinner and then hid in our rooms.
I’d “slept” on Winnie’s spare twin bed that night, but of course, all I’d done was stare at the ceiling. The room was drafty, so I added another blanket over Winnie. My poor sister. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically in sleep, a peaceful look on her face. I hadn’t told her about the mortgage. I also hadn’t mentioned that we’d be leaving Hawthorne Hall in a month’s time—leaving it forever.
I couldn’t bring myself to break her heart again.
Our mother died of cancer when we were little girls. In her absence, our father took painstaking care of us—he had seen that we never went without love.
And then a few years later, he’d married Vivian.
At first, she’d made an effort with us. She attended our recitals and soccer games. She bought us dresses for special occasions. She’d encouraged Eva, her daughter from a previous marriage, to refer to us as her “sisters.” But a year into their marriage, our father suddenly passed away. In his will, he’d named our stepmother as our sole legal guardian.
He would not have approved with how she handled her responsibilities.
Vivian and Eva took over the house and all the finances, spending as they saw fit. They had little regard for me and my sister, or for our grief.
First Vivian fired the staff, claiming that they were too expensive. The cook, the gardener, the cleaner, the driver—everyone who had worked for my father was let go with no severance. Many of them had been with us since we were infants.
Then she advised my sister and I that the upkeep of Hawthorne Hall was our responsibility. If she spied dust on any countertops, if one of the many bathrooms wasn’t sparkling clean, she sent us to bed without dinner.
She sent us to bed without dinner a lot.
For years we were practically prisoners in our own home—I wasn’t allowed to get my license, and our stepmother forbade us from playing sports or going to friend’s houses. Vivian didn’t want us making ties to anyone. If we had someone to talk to, we might tell them what our lives were like at Hawthorne Hall.
