The Prey: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance (Oakmount Elite Book 3)

I wait because despite the instinct tugging at me to protect Ely, another instinct is telling me there’s something here worth paying attention to, something that will give me greater insight into who she is and where she came from. That is until I notice the way her body stiffens, then turns to stone, like a statue, the freshly made drinks in her hands slip from her grasp. They smash onto the concrete floor, sending fragments of glass and liquor everywhere.

Fuck. It’s time to jump in.

I shove from my seat, rushing to her aide while at the same time forcing a smile onto my lips, burying the anger and trying to appear calm and collected. I close the distance between Elyse and myself quickly and stop only once I’m pressed firmly against her back, trapping his hand between our bodies.

My anger spikes when the man doesn’t bother to glance my way or acknowledge my presence. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Leaning into her ear, he’s speaking low and soft in a language I don’t know but recognize as Russian. After a moment, he moves his hand, but only the placement of it, not off her skin, but simply sliding it around to her belly.

I should break each finger and feed them to him.

Instead, I clear my throat. “Take your hands off my property. Now.”

Finally, the fucker looks at me. A smile draws onto his lips, recognitioning blooming in his eyes. “Oh, it’s the little pup.” He lets out a chuckle. “It’s so nice to see you. I’m sorry about my poor manners. I couldn’t take my eyes off Ely.”

“Or your hands?” I sneer. Inwardly, my mind races, all neurons firing as I attempt to figure out the puzzle before me. He speaks as if he knows her.

“Are you sure she is really your property? I don’t think so. She’s only yours via inheritance, correct? If you’ll be so inclined, I’d like to buy her from you. Then she will be mine, as she was always meant to be.”

Ely trembles, and it’s enough to make me sick to my stomach. I can feel her fear, smell it, acidic and pungent and for the first time it doesn’t turn me on. It pisses me off. I didn’t put it there. I don’t control it.

“I’m not so inclined. She’s not for sale.”

“No? Are you sure you can’t be swayed? Everyone has a price, pup. What’s yours?”

“The only one who will be paying a price is you, if you don’t remove your hand.”

His gaze hardens, and he scans the space behind me, then my body, like he expects me to pull out a gun, but instead, I reach down and snag my knife from its hiding spot. I’ve got it in hand before he can even resume eye contact.

Let’s see how many fingers you’re willing to lose, fucker.

Keeping my voice calm, I barely resist snarling. “Tell me, how many fingers are you willing to lose?”

As if he realizes how serious I am, he lowers his hand back down to his side. “I’m not scared of you, pup. You don’t know shit about me, or my and Ely’s past. This is a family matter. It was a mistake for her to be given to you. Respectfully, I’ve already offered to buy her from you. I don’t know what more you want.”

I keep my eyes on him, but I direct my question at Ely. “Is this man your family?”

She shakes her head again, wisps of dark brown hair fly, as she presses back into me. “No. No. He’s not.”

I know what she’s doing, seeking my protection, assuming I will save her but unfortunately she has no idea that I’m just as bad as this man, In some ways, I may be even worse.

The man curls his lip, his icy gaze on her. “That’s not true. Ely was promised to me by her father many years ago, to be delivered once she turned of age. Regretfully, he sold her out from underneath me to your grandfather. The deal was settled many years before he made the mistake of going back on his word.”

Ely. Awareness zings through me. All the times my Ely flinched at my casual use of the nickname. Please stop calling me that. It had something to do with him. He has no right to let it cross his lips. Whatever he did to make it ugly in her ears, I’ll have to undo. It’s my name for her now.

Needing to make this tool disappear and prove she belongs to me and only me, I clasp her around the waist with my free hand, splaying my fingers across her smooth flat belly.

“The past is the past. As of today, she is mine and will belong to me until her father’s debt is paid in full.” Her body jolts against me, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What seems to be the problem?” A booming voice questions from behind the little leech who thinks he can take what’s mine.

Sidorov.

My quarry approaches and stops behind the smaller man. “Yanov. What is happening?” Sidorov’s eyes bounce lazily from me and then to Ely, where they pause and darken. “Oh, you found a little toy.”

Yanov, or whatever his fucking name is, stiffens. “No, she is not a toy. She is mine. I don’t share.”

Mr. Sidorov grins while holding his hands up. “Oh, wvell,” —his accent is thick— “then all is good. No problem.”

I take a step back, bringing Ely with me. Damnit. I’m trying to conjure up a response, a way to salvage this shit show. I need Sidorov so that I can get out of this mess, and with the way he’s looking at Elyse right now, I could use her to my advantage. But can I bring myself to go through with it? That I don’t know.

Looking down, my eyes catch on Elyse, her bare shoulder that’s littered in scars. She doesn’t notice me staring. Her entire body is a bundle of nerves, and her own gaze is cast down to the floor submissively.

What…?

I squint, trying to read the letters that look as though they’ve been etched into her skin.

Y A N O V.

Each letter is carved into the back of her shoulder in jagged slashes.

This fucker. This piece of shit.

My stomach roils, the contents threatening to climb out of my throat. I’m supposed to wear a mask of boredom, but how can I when I see something like that? The irony doesn’t escape me—his mark is similar in aspect to what I do with my Oakmount conquests. It’s a type of branding. The only difference is that the girls I slice beg me for the blade. They want my mark—it’s part of the whole Sebastian Arturo experience and they wear it proudly, showing it off like a damn gold metal.

This though… This is different, and I know without asking that Ely didn’t ask to be branded by this man.

I grit my teeth through the nausea and breath through my nose, tightening my grip on her.

“Elyse, who is this man…”

She trembles against me, and leans her weight backward so much that I have to widen my stance for better balance. “He’s…he’s a friend of my father’s.”

I stare the man down, ready to explode. Who the fuck does he think he is? I feel even more compelled to protect her against this twisted fucker now. He’s either got a death wish, or he’s dumber than a box of rocks. I don’t really care what the excuse is, but he’s soon going to find out what happens when you fuck with the wrong person.

His name might be carved into her skin, but that don’t mean a fucking thing.

Elyse is mine.

MY FUCKING ELY.

The asswipe takes a predatory step closer, and Mr. Sidorov slams a hand down on his shoulder, stopping his progress, as if he knows where this is going.

“Yanov…”

Unfortunately, his friend isn’t listening, and it’s even more unfortunate that my patience is threadbare. I didn’t come here to draw attention to myself, but I’m very close to saying fuck it and slitting the fucker’s throat just to prove a point.

“Ely, don’t lie,” he spits out the words, and she flinches at their impact. “Tell this man the truth. Tell him you belong to me.”

Elyse’s trembling becomes full-on shaking now. Shit. She’s probably on the verge of a panic attack.

“It doesn’t matter what she says. Legally, she belongs to me.”

Yanov snarls at me, spittle flying from his lips. “Paper is useless. Prove it, here. Now. If she belongs to you, show me.”

“Show you?” I growl. “She’s not a fucking dog; she doesn’t do tricks.”

Yanov looks into my eyes, and if I thought I was a soulless asshole, this guy is ten times worse. I see an endless pit of darkness, and I can understand why Elyse fears him so much. He’s a slimeball who needs his face used as a fucking mop.

“Perhaps you don’t know her as well as you claim. Ely does all kinds of tricks, don’t you?” He snickers like he knows something I don’t. Fucker is going to end up gutted like a fish if he continues with the stupidity.

“Don’t talk to her.” I hiss through my teeth.

I shouldn’t have brought Ely here. I could have figured out some other way to approach Sidorov⁠—

“Territorial, are you?” He laughs. “I can understand the obsession. There’s something special about her, isn’t there? Something intriguing.” His reptilian gaze measures me, finds me wanting. “It makes you hard, doesn’t it, pup? You think about sinking your cock into that sweet pussy⁠—”

Sidorov clears his throat, halting Yanov’s vile commentary, and I couldn’t be more grateful for an interruption because tucked tight against me like she’s trying to make herself disappear is Ely, her entire body shaking like a leaf.

“Why don’t you show us then? Everyone knows a man who takes a woman as his property must train her well in all areas.” Yanov’s gaze slides over Ely, oily and full of hidden intent. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s speaking from his own twisted agenda, that he’s always meant to “train” Ely in whatever fucked up ways he deems suitable. “He knows she will do as she is told, no matter what. No matter where. No matter with whom. So prove it.”

I’m Sebastian Arturo. Powerful. Successful. A king among peasants. I have nothing to prove to this fuckhead, or anyone else in the room, but that doesn’t matter.

Not when he challenges me the way he is right now. Sure, I could turn him down, but it would be viewed as a sign of weakness. One fuckup. That’s all it takes for someone to think they can take you on. I may hate my position as the head of the family and want to do nothing more than abandon it, but looking weak is not an option as long as I’m in control. After all, image is everything, and weakness is blood in the water. It’ll get you stepped on. It’ll get you killed.

I look down at Elyse, and I know she’s not going to be happy with my next words. I remind myself that it doesn’t matter; not if I can get us both out of here without making a scene.

“As you wish.” I growl in resentment.

I give Ely’s hip a squeeze, drawing her attention to me. She peers up at me through thick lashes, and I see both fear and hope brewing in her icy blue depths. I don’t have the heart to tell her there is no saving us. If she wants to survive she’ll have to fight for it.

“Get on your knees, Ely. Show them who you belong to.”