Owned (Blood Ties Book 4)

I adjusted my necktie as I met my gaze in the mirror. But there was no flicker of life in my eyes. No fear. No hate. Just an emptiness that shimmered in the depths of my stare. One I was getting far too used to seeing. I headed out of the bathroom and grabbed the black velvet box from the nightstand drawer before heading for the bedroom door.

The house was quiet as I stepped out…until the crack of a door sounded from the floor above. Vivienne stopped at the top of the stairs above me as she saw me. Her eyes widened as they fixed on mine. Images rose of her splayed out on the table in front of me. My breaths deepened and my pulse fluttered. The woman hit me like a drug. My vein tapped and the blowback in the syringe bloomed as she rushed through my bloodstream, until I quickly pushed the memory aside.

I couldn’t afford to think about her. Not tonight.

Someone so perfect had no place in the fucking filth I was about to touch.

Her gaze shifted to the box in my hand and for a second, there was a flicker of confusion before the tiny flinch of pain. I forced myself to head downstairs. Each step was a pounding fist inside my chest. Guild opened the front door as I neared. One nod was all he gave, and even that was almost too much.

“Protect her at all costs,” I murmured, low enough so she didn’t hear.

I knew he would. The man was highly trained.

All of them were. I only employed the best of the best, especially when it came to her.

Then I was gone. I left the house and Vivienne behind and made my way to where my driver waited. I didn’t look back, just slipped into the back seat before he closed the door. It wasn’t until we were far enough away from the house that I released the breath I was holding and tried to find some control. My stomach was hard and my pulse was racing. I licked my lips and pulled out my phone.

My fucking fingers shook when I punched in the code and opened the app. It was fucking habit to track her through the house. I shouldn’t be watching her. Tonight, of all nights, I needed to keep a clear head. Still, I narrowed in, finding her standing outside my bedroom. There were no doors barred to her now, all locks were off and that included the basement.

She had everything…including me.

But she didn’t go into my bedroom. Instead, she turned and walked away with her fists clenched at her sides and a look of pain on her face. Was she upset? Angry after last night? I dragged my teeth across my lip and rubbed my jaw as I remembered Colt’s fingers sinking into her pussy. So fucking wet…so fucking insubordinate, spitting hateful words even as she came all over his fingers.

Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about her.

Not here, not now.

As much as I hated it, I closed the app down and tucked my phone back in my jacket, removing temptation. Instead, I focused on the drive as we made our way through the city to the discreet, sprawling estate to the south. Our headlights carved through the night when we passed other cars as they headed back out after dropping off their guests.

The vilest of the vile, right?

And here I was amongst them.

What did that say about me?

The car pulled around the circular driveway and pulled up in front of the massive house. Doormen were waiting to open my door. “I’ll message you, Gabriel.”

“I’ll be nearby, sir.”

I gave a nod and climbed out. I gripped the expensive teardrop diamond necklace and adjusted my jacket, then lifted my gaze to Ophelia’s mansion. The bitch was going to be dangerous tonight, high on her own importance and her taste for pain. It’d be too easy for her to have new prey. I needed to be careful, locked down and emotionless. This was no place for my real feelings to get in the way. That would get my family hurt, or worse…back there in The Order.

I inhaled hard and opened the lead-lined vault inside my head. The vault where I tucked anything good in my life. Because they had no room here in hell. Carven was first. Savage. Cold. Loyal to a goddamn fault. I tucked him away, followed by his sullen, silent brother. Then came the feisty breath of fresh air…my little wildcat, Vivienne. Only she didn’t go quietly, did she? She kicked and screamed. Blazing too goddamn bright and like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her. Her feel, her taste, her fucking innocence. As I climbed the stairs and inhaled the fetid tang of cigar and cruelty, I shoved her into the safety of my mind-vault and slammed the door.

I’d pay for that, I was sure of it.

Even the fantasy of her was volatile.

And I fucking loved it.

In there, she was protected and safe.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter as I stepped inside the door and walked along the entrance. My gaze moved to the brand new mammoth art piece hanging on the left. Charcoal and something else…something that made me stop and look. The medium darkened brown, mottled…looking almost like…

Blood.

That’s what it looked like.

I lowered my gaze and read the title underneath.

Brand new exhibit here at Ophelia Master’s this fall. The piece was haunting, two children with their backs turned, hands clasping each other’s in a moment of comfort and solidarity. If it hung in any other foyer, then it might be touching. But not here…no…not here. A shiver raced along my spine. If there was anything Ophelia loved more than power and control, it was her goddamn art.

Art that was displayed somewhere in this house.

Art I wanted to stay the Hell away from. So I kept walking.

Macoy Daniels was standing amongst a group of vile, pretentious fucks. He glanced my way as I entered and fixed on me.

Look away, motherfucker.

I kept moving but I still felt the heat of his gaze follow me as I headed for the main reason I was here—Haelstrom Hale. Everything else was just a blur. Paper crinkled in the breast pocket of my jacket as I left the chatter behind and headed deeper into the house. The overhead lights grew duller as I moved through the rooms, heading to the sitting area in the back. I’d been here three times before…and that was three times too many.

I found him sitting amongst the select few, legs crossed, a tumbler of top-shelf Scotch in his hand. He turned his head toward me, not missing a word in his conversation with the others until he gave a slow smile. “London, good to see you.”

I gave a nod. Not like a had a fucking choice, did I? “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

“You know Devlin and Zander?” Hale motioned to the others who just stared at me like I was a threat.

I was. Just not in the way they thought. “Sure. Gentlemen.” I gave a nod.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Hale motioned to the rest of the group. But there were no seats left. He knew that. “I’m sure we can make room.”

I gave a smile, one that made me reel inside, and gave a chuckle. “Maybe later.” I lifted the velvet box in my hand. “I have a prior engagement.”

I knew the effect that would have on Hale. Anyone else and any other time, he’d take the refusal as an insult, but not for his Ophelia. The vile fucking cunt. Instead, he gave a nod and glanced behind me to the other guests. “I’m sure she’ll be too excited to see you.”

“I’m sure she will,” I murmured and nodded again to the others.

They just stared as I left. But not one would say a word in my absence. They all knew better.

I had a reputation, one I carefully honed with blood. You didn’t get this close to Haelstrom Hale otherwise, even if I’d tried to leave that reason long behind. I scanned the others and found Macoy still watching me. I met his stare until the fucker looked away.

But it was that stare I didn’t like.

It was too sly, too…knowing.

I didn’t like it. I headed toward him until the throaty sound of feminine laughter stopped me in my tracks. My stomach clenched. All thoughts of doing anything other than fucking running left my mind. I narrowed in on the gleeful sound and felt sick. Champagne wasn’t strong enough, not for this. I drained my glass and headed for the bar. “Scotch, the good stuff,” I demanded, watching the waiter as he turned, grabbed a tumbler, and lifted the twenty-six-year-old single malt from behind the bar.

But it wasn’t him I focused on. Movement came from the corner of my eye. I tried to steel myself as a hand slid along my arm and the cloying drone of the most hateful bitch God ever put breath into followed. “There you are. I was starting to worry.”

I met her gaze and forced a smile. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

Ophelia Masters was a stunning woman…on the surface. Wide, dark brown eyes and full, plump lips, with high cheekbones that made her face angular and harsh. She lowered her gaze to watch the red talons of her fingers trail along my arm. But I knew it was an excuse to look at the black velvet box on the bar in front of me. “I thought you might be too involved with your new pet to come…but then again, you can’t fuck her yet. Can you?”

I stared into those sinister eyes and caught the glimmer of amusement.

The interim contract Hale had given me had her stench all over it.

Getting to King was only one part of the equation.

She was the other.

“She’s a pet, Ophelia. Nothing more.”

“Oh?” She glanced at the box. “A three-million-dollar pet, I heard.”

I captured her chin, tilting her gaze to mine. “Still, I’m here.”

There was a twitch in the corner of my mouth as she moved close, grasped my balls, and squeezed, then murmured against my ear. “Good, because I’d gut the bitch.”

Agony punched through my body and my stomach rolled. It was more than the pain, more than the threats. I closed my eyes as she turned her head and kissed the corner of my mouth. Disgust burned inside me as she pulled away. “Tell me, how are the sons? Their screams were quite delicious. Is the mute one talking yet?”

Kill her…

Kill the fucking bitch.

Somewhere in the room, a waiter clinked a glass and announced dinner was served. But I was too busy swallowing the hateful fucking stare she branded me with. I didn’t flinch, didn’t let her see the panic that roared inside. “My sons are fine, thank you.”

“You’re mine, London.” She searched my eyes, staking her claim. “You don’t fuck unless it’s me. Do you understand that? You owe me, remember?”

“How can I forget it?” I answered as her grip eased and slid along my flaccid cock as she tried to find life.

But there was none to be found.

My ass tightened as the rest of the guests left us behind when they headed for the dining area in the room next to us as she reached for the black velvet box on the bar and opened it. Gold shimmered and the five-carat diamond glinted.

There was a hint of a smile as she pulled away, but instead of leaving with the other guests, she grabbed the bottom of her dress and hiked it up. “Get on your knees, London. I need that delicious tongue of yours.”

I wanted to be sick…no, I was going to be sick.

I swallowed hard as my pulse boomed. “Here?”

Inside that vault inside my head, a woman’s shrill screams echoed as the bitch in front of me smiled and answered. “Here.”