by B. B. Hamel
“Why are you so impatient, Erin, my dear?”
She bristled. She hated pet names. “My brother stagnates. Meanwhile, our enemies grow stronger. I need to force him into action if we’re going to keep the family safe.”
“You still think in weeks and days. I thought you were smart enough to play a long game.”
“Don’t lecture me on looking ahead, Kaspar. I know what I’m doing.”
I suspected that was only partially true. “I told you, I’m putting things into place, and I’ll make the first move soon. I can’t rush this. Killing an Oligarch is not a small matter.”
She leaned back, glaring at the camera. “Murdering him is only the first step. I need you to go on the offensive with Maeve.”
I laughed softly. Of course it came back to Maeve. Erin was convinced that Maeve was the most powerful of all the Oligarchs, even though the woman kept to herself and barely engaged in Oligarch politics. I wasn’t so sure, but tended to pay attention when Erin made suggestions, no matter how improbable.
“If I spread myself too thin, I won’t be able to accomplish anything. One step at a time, my dear.”
“Step faster then. I won’t wait forever.” She twisted her hair around her finger. “Unless you want me to recall my sister?”
My smile faltered. She couldn’t do that—Penny was mine now, and no amount of begging or threatening would change it—but the thought of Erin trying to bring her sister home displeased me. It was bad enough that Darren would make a move sooner or later.
“You wouldn’t be so stupid. Remember, you have nobody else out in the field working for your interests. You go against me, and you have nothing.”
“Don’t be so sure of yourself. Kill the old man and get it over with. I want Maeve on the defensive.”
With that, she killed the connection.
I sighed and stood, tossing my laptop onto the couch. I filled a glass with decent wine and took a long sip. It was thick and dark red, like fresh arterial blood. I smiled as it slid down my throat and the comforting warmth spread along my limbs.
Erin always left a bad taste in my mouth, but nothing a little alcohol couldn’t fix.
I stalked to the window and looked out over the city. Rome was a sprawl of ancient buildings interspersed with modern glass and steel abominations. I preferred the old to the new: anything with history. This city was built on bodies, death and suffering, and the foundations were littered with bones—quite literally, the tunnels beneath Rome were dotted with burial niches and piles of human remains. There was something poetic about a city that sat atop its own dead, constantly laying itself above them, on and on into the future.
When I was a child, my father brought me here. He showed me the fountains, named all the historical monuments, and made sure I understood what the Romans cared for.
Blood and honor, boy. Blood and honor. Like our family.
He was a miserable old piece of shit. He was sixty when I was born, seventy by the time he took me to Rome.
Seventy-five when I strangled him in the basement of our house.
A knock at the door between my room and Penny’s made me look back. I hesitated, but went and opened it.
Penny gave me a look that made my heart skip a beat.
She was a path in the middle of the woods. She was a sign in a maze. Her brightness brought breath to my lips.
She had her family’s eyes, like Erin, except where Erin was savage and intense, Penny was soft and flowing. She had pink, full lips, thick hair pulled back in a messy bun, high cheekbones, and curves that made my chest seize and stutter. Back on the island, I made her wear white bikinis, because she looked almost naked.
“What can I do for you so late, little treasure?”
She grimaced. She hated pet names too.
“I want to talk.”
“Come in then.” I stepped toward the side table and offered her a glass of wine.
She accepted it and sipped nervously. She wore a pair of tight-fitting sweats and a tank top that hugged her chest and showed just a hint of her breasts. They were sleep clothes, and I got the impression she’d come straight from bed.
I waited for her to talk. It was a trick I learned early on from my father: when someone came to me about something important but seemed hesitant, I figured out all I had to do was keep my mouth shut until they eventually explained whatever it was I needed to know. I watched Penny squirm as she drank down half the wine before settling in a chair.
I sat across from her.
“I want to make a deal with you.” She took a deep breath as if she were working herself up to something.
“I was wondering when you’d come to the bargaining table.”
That annoyed her. For some reason, I had the gift—I could always find a way to piss her off.
Not that I always wanted her angry, but god, she was beautiful when she was livid. Her skin flushed pink and her teeth ground down tight, and her little hands turned into fists like she wanted to beat them against my broad chest.
I’d love to see her try. Sometimes, late at night when I couldn’t sleep, I’d think about pinning her down on the floor and fucking her wildly. I’d picture taking her, over and over again, breaking her in, making her come on my thick cock until she forgot why it was she ever fought.
From the start, she hated me. I came on strong back then, but I couldn’t help myself. In all my life, I’d never met a girl that made me feel half the way that Penny made me feel. I needed to be around her desperately, and I spent my final year at Blackwoods College following her around, shadowing her every move, and waiting until I had the chance to finally make her mine.
That chance never came. Instead, I ruined whatever opportunity there might’ve been with blood.
“I’m going to offer you a deal. I’m going to offer it once and never again.” Her cheeks were red, like the wine. “I want you to know that I despise you, Kaspar, and I’ll never be your wife. Not willingly.”
“I understand you think so.”
“You clearly don’t then.” She learned forward and I wondered if she’d break that glass in her palm. “I thought there might be something, but you ruined that a long time ago. You’re sick, and you never figured out that I don’t want anything to do with you.”
I took her measure. She was angry, all right. My heart skipped a beat. We were alone in my room—I could have her now, if I wanted.
But I preferred my women willing.
“What’s your offer then, pet?” I said softly, purring the words like a velvet sash wrapped around her throat.
“I want my freedom. You want my body. I propose a trade.”
My eyebrows slowly went up and my cock half-stiffened. “I’m listening.”
She pressed her lips together, eyebrows knitting down. “One night. I’ll give you one night of… you know, me. And after that night, you let me go home.”
“One night of what, exactly?”
“Don’t make me spell it out.”
“Tell me. Say the words. One night of what?” I leaned closer, eager and excited, unable to hide it.
“I’ll let you have sex with me.”
“Have sex with you?” I laughed and shook my head slowly. “No, pet. I won’t have sex with you.”
She looked surprised. “What do you mean? Isn’t that what you want?”
I set my glass aside and stood. I went to her and she scrambled to get out of the chair. Her glass fell, shattering on the floor. I stepped over the shards as she hurried to the door, but I caught her wrist before she reached it and spun her around.
She let out a hard breath as I slammed her body into mine.
“I don’t want to have sex with you, pet,” I whispered, crushing her against me. She felt like heaven, her breasts soft, her mouth an angry, shocked circled. I could see those lips wrapped around the tip of my cock, sucking greedily. “I want to fuck you. I want to ravage you. I want to hold you down and fuck you senseless until your toes curl and you come so hard you
forget to breathe. I want to make you scream, pet. I want to own your wet little cunt and nibble on your hard little nipples and pull your hair while I dominate your beautiful little ass. So, no, pet, I don’t want to have sex. I want to own you.”
Her mouth hung open like she couldn’t believe my words, but she shouldn’t have been surprised.
I was a lot of things. Killer, thief, liar. Monster.
But despite sowing chaos everywhere I went, I never misled her.
She was the only one I ever cared enough about to be honest with.
“You can call it whatever you want,” she finally said, voice cracking slightly, her cheeks burning bright with embarrassment. “Fuck me. Own me. Come in my… come in my mouth, if you want. Just so long as when you’re finished, you let me go.”
It was tempting.
God, it was so tempting. The way she said come in my mouth made my veins pounds with need. My cock was fully hard, and I knew she felt it pressed up against her. I wasn’t trying to hide my excitement. The image of her down on her knees, willingly sucking me fast, breasts shaking, sweat rolling down her beautifully formed back, and taking my cum in her mouth, swallowing it down her pretty little throat, it made me want to give up on all my plans and accept her offer.
“No, pet. That’s not going to work for me.”
She shoved me away and took a step into her room.
“Why the hell not? Isn’t that what you want? Even back in college, all you’ve ever wanted was—”
“You think all this is about fucking you?” I gestured around her at the lavish hotel. “You think I snuck onto the Servant family property and stole you away to sink my cock between your legs? Darling pet, you have no idea what I want.”
She was trembling with rage. I wanted her to release it all. I wished she’d attack me. At least that might be fun.
Instead, she looked away.
“Think about it. One night and I’ll do whatever you want.” Saying the words made her shiver.
It made me high with delight.
“Go to bed. We have plans tomorrow.”
“What plans?”
“You don’t need to know what they are right now. Go to bed, pet, and dream about my tongue between your legs while I sink my cock into your mouth.”
“You’re disgusting,” she whispered, shaking now. “What do you want from me?”
“I want a wife. I want children. I want you obedient and happy, and until then, you’ll be my prisoner instead.”
“You have to know that’ll never happen.” Pleading now. I wondered how long it would take her. So far, she’d been strong, like a good Servant. But I knew she’d break eventually. “I won’t marry you. Darren won’t let it stand, even if I did. You can’t possibly think you’ll get what you want from this.”
“I will. Go to bed, pet. I’ll taste you in the morning.”
She glared at me like she wanted to argue, but she disappeared into her room and slammed the door behind her.
I stared at the floor and took several deep breaths, willing myself to calm down.
I didn’t know what it was about her. Something in her eyes, in the way she moved, in her lips, in her laugh, something about her made me lose myself. For a little while, whenever she was around, I could forget what I was—broken, rent asunder, scarred and inhuman—and be something else.
Almost a man, instead of a beast.
But I was too much like Rome to ever regain my humanity, even with Penny to guide me back from the depths.
There were too many bodies at the foundation of my life.
And before Penny was mine, there would be more.
5
Penny
Present Day
Rome, Italy
In the morning, I got sick. I curled up on the bathroom floor, trembling with a cold sweat, and stared at the toilet like I might die.
Nothing hurt. My stomach was fine. I didn’t have a fever. But every time I closed my eyes, I remembered Kaspar’s hands covered in blood, his smile like sunshine, his anger like the moon. I remembered him standing outside of my dorm, calling out my name, remembered him following me to class and all the stupid girls that said I was so lucky, so lucky to have a guy like Kaspar so obviously in love with me.
God, I was lucky. So lucky, especially when he broke into my room and stole my phone, or when he called me every night over and over until I answered, only to do it again the next day. I was lucky he stalked me, obsessed over me, and wouldn’t leave me alone.
I tried not to think about Alice. She was gone and didn’t matter anymore. Her face was blurry now, like a picture left out in the sun for a week, but I could still hear her voice and smell her side of the room—cinnamon and spice and fresh laundry. She was funny and outgoing and I loved rooming with her, right up until the end.
Kaspar came eventually. I knew he would. He looked at me there on the floor, his face unflinching. There was no pity in his eyes.
“Get up. We have another meeting.”
“No, I can’t.”
“You’re not sick. Get up.”
I groaned and tried to push him away, but he pulled me to my feet. I struggled weakly as he pulled off my tank top and yanked down my sweats. He pushed me into the shower and closed the glass door.
I stood there in my panties and no bra, my nipples rock hard, Kaspar’s eyes staring at me.
“Shower,” he commanded.
I turned on the water.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. When I went to him, I thought offering him one night of lust would satisfy his hunger, and when he refused me, while teasing me the whole time, it was like someone kicked me in the guts. Then this morning, I threw up, trembling like a leaf.
The hot water helped. Kaspar disappeared. I cleaned myself up, got out, toweled off, and dressed. When I finished, one of Kaspar’s men, a young guy with dark eyes and thick black hair, stepped into my room.
“He’s waiting downstairs.” He smiled at me. It was the first time any of them had shown any kindness since we arrived in Rome.
“Thank you. Do you know where we’re going?”
He shook his head. “Not my job to know.”
“Only your job to drag me around, right?”
His smile faltered. “For your own protection.”
“Protection from whom, I wonder?”
He didn’t say anything, only waited for me to follow.
Kaspar was in the lobby. He stared at me like I was the sunrise, and I felt the sickness in my guts again.
It was strange to be wanted so badly by someone so beautiful and so deeply, horribly broken.
Kaspar ushered me out into the hot afternoon. Rome was built on a swamp, and the humidity was almost unbearable. If it fazed Kaspar, he didn’t show it. He stalked around in his dark suit like the heat didn’t touch his skin.
We arrived at a small cafe near the hotel. Kaspar sat me toward the back and brought over a coffee and a small croissant. I ate and drank quietly while Kaspar read a newspaper in Italian.
I didn’t know much about him, which was strange—of all the Oligarchs, he kept to himself the most. Despite having gone to the same college, and sharing a blood-soaked history, I didn’t know where he grew up or what his family was like.
I stared down at my small white mug and wondered what Livvie would do in my situation.
Probably flip the table and run. She was always the strongest of us. I was convinced that was how she was able to make that final horrible choice.
A man stepped into the cafe. Kaspar half stood and I looked up.
My jaw fell open.
He was tall and handsome, with a square jaw and an All-American physique, like a linebacker from Princeton in the fifties. His smile was dazzling and white and genuine, so much the opposite of Kaspar, and he strode forward like the world waited on him.
“There you are,” Redmond Orchard said.
Kaspar accepted his outstretched hand and shook. “You’re late.”
Redmond l
aughed. “Typical Kaspar. Can’t ever be kind, can you?” He glanced at me and his smile turned into a smirk. “Well, look at this. He said he had a new toy, but I didn’t realize she’d be a Servant too.”
“Hello, Redmond.”
He sat down across from Kaspar and crossed his legs. Redmond was the son of Bernhard Orchard, also known as Old Bern, another one of the great Oligarchs. He was strapping and hearty and loud where Kaspar was shift and quiet, but both men were physically imposing and terrifying.
I knew Redmond from a distance. We’d met a few times at several high society gatherings and charity galas over the years. Darren always insisted that I keep my distance from him, and fortunately he graduated from Blackwoods the same year as my brother.
Now though, having these two men crammed together with me at this small table sent the small hairs on my arms and neck standing up straight.
Something wasn’t right.
“How are you finding your trip so far?” Kaspar asked, sipping his coffee.
Redmond shrugged. “Nobody speaks a decent word of English around here.”
“Wouldn’t kill you to learn Italian.”
“Might not, but it’d try.” Redmond beamed at me. “How are you surviving, Pen? Kaspar treating you okay?”
I was tempted to tell him that I was a captive, but I had a feeling he already knew. “I’m okay.”
“That’s good to hear. Did he tell you why I’m here?” Redmond waggled his eyebrows and leaned in close. “It’s one hell of a plot we’re cooking up.”
“She doesn’t know,” Kaspar said.
“I suppose that’s smart. Never know what might happen between now and then.”
I looked between the two men, desperate to understand what they were talking about, but Kaspar seemed annoyed, and Redmond only laughed loudly.
“Where are you staying?” Kaspar asked.
“My father owns a flat near here. I’ll be there for the time being, until he gets into town.”
“Is that still on schedule?”
“As far as I know. Old Bern doesn’t keep me informed as to his daily habits.” Redmond rolled his eyes and spread his hands. “Believe me, it’d be easier if he did.”
