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

Am I interrupting something? The list of things that are starting to piss me off seems to be getting longer and longer. Maybe if Elyse hadn’t wasted so much time and had fucking suitable clothing—anything other than a damn work uniform—in her dresser, I wouldn’t be in this room with her and Tanya right now.

Who am I kidding? Rationally, I know none of this is Elyse’s fault, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make it seem that way.

Something about her begs me to give her a hard time.

Tanya, technically my aunt, although she calls herself my stepmother, has been living in the house for ten months now, and when I say living, I use the term loosely since I haven’t seen much of her in that time. Thank fuck. She tells me—like I actually give a shit—that she’s been balancing her time between here and the house she has in Miami. I don’t really give a fuck what she’s doing as long as she stays away from me. For some unknown reason she’s been hanging around a little more lately, though, and I don’t like it. Just looking at her makes me sick. It makes me want to crawl inside a bottle of bourbon and never come out. I will deal with her for now, until I can figure out how to convince her to let me buy out her part of the house’s deed.

“Yes, you’re interrupting something, but we don’t have time for it now, anyway, so no apology is necessary.” I give Tanya a hard glance and peer back down at Ely, noticing how she clutches her shirt tight in her hands, hands that are visibly shaking.

Good.

I need her fear like I need oxygen because it means I’m in control. I feast on it, and she gives it to me so easily, it’s almost pathetic. And keeping her afraid shouldn’t be a problem after she finds out where we’re going. I’ve gone easy on her the last couple of months, but I know it’s only a matter of time before she remembers things. Dr. Brooks warned me that once her memories trickle in they may come and go like waves. He also said she might not ever regain her memories from that night, so it’s crucial that I maintain control over her so I know what she’s remembering and not remembering. My own life and future hangs in the balance of her recall.

“Elyse, go pack up whatever else you’re going to need, and hurry back. We’re leaving soon. As in, in an hour soon. You don’t show up, I hunt you down and drag you out the door. Is that clear?”

She blinks up at me, her big doe eyes wide and shining with fright and maybe a hint of something else. Something I’m not even fucking touching right now. Maybe she doesn’t think I’ve noticed her lingering stares or the heat in her eyes, which she tries to hide beneath a hateful glare every time I say something shitty. She might be good at hiding from the rest of the world, but she can’t hide from me. I notice everything when it comes to her. In fact, sometimes I have to remind myself that she’s my employee, and this can only end one way. Developing an obsession for the quiet, fearful brunette is not necessary to my end goal.

If I wanted to, I could have her. I could fuck her any way I want, however I want, even if she said no and begged me not to. She belongs to me, after all. I pride myself on control, though, being in control and maintaining it. Giving in to those impulsive desires would be the same as letting her win, and I refuse to let her break me down to that level of baser instinct. Plus, nothing good comes from making choices with your dick. My aunt/stepmother, Tanya, is proof of that on my uncle’s part.

When she doesn’t immediately start moving, I clap my hands, and she jumps, startled by the sound. “Move it!” I taunt. She springs into action, scurrying from the room.

I return my focus to Tanya, un-beloved auntie, adopted mommy, stepmother. Mother is a generous term for a woman who didn’t do anything to actually raise me; nor did she give birth to me. It was my uncle, Mitchell Arturo, whom I consider my adopted father, who raised me. Not my grandfather, who took credit for turning me into a brutal, sadistic asshole, and definitely not this bitch who thinks she can have what’s mine.

My family is beyond fucked up. Just the thought of it makes my head hurt, but Tanya’s presence is a constant reminder of all that I try to forget. My mother, who I reconnected with before her untimely death mere months earlier, had an affair after giving birth to me that resulted in the birth of my sister, Bel. Since my biological father was psychotic and abusive, among other amazing attributes, my mother wanted to leave him. She struck a deal with my grandfather, her own father, where she signed over her rights to me, giving him guardianship and allowing him to raise me, and he allowed her to leave, free to live her life as she saw fit. I guess that’s what she wanted, since that’s what she did, without a single penny to her name.

I’m past the point of hating her for it. In fact, part of me respects her for it. I can understand her desire to escape this place and these people and live a different sort of existence—even if it meant leaving me behind.

I can understand, because I’m living the nightmare she managed to escape right now.

Which brings me back to the present situation.

“What do you want, Tanya?”

Her smile widens, her lips shining in the afternoon light that beams through the windows on the far side of the room. I usually keep the curtains drawn, as it’s far more fitting for my mood, but someone must have left them open after cleaning.

“No ‘hello,’ or ‘how are you?’” She bats her long lashes at me. “I’m actually a little hurt that you don’t want to know how I’m doing. Meanwhile, you’re seducing one of the employees in your bedroom. Really, Sebastian. What on earth were you thinking? Can you imagine the scandal? Please, tell me, why did she have her shirt off?” There’s a hint of suspicion in her question and tone.

“It’s none of your fucking business; now get out,” I snap but immediately regret it.

Her eyes flash with murderous rage, and she closes the distance between us in remarkable time, given her four-inch stiletto heels. Honestly, I should anticipate her attack. I’m not sure why I don’t. Her fingers ghost against the flesh of my cheek, and I flinch.

It’s a small movement, inconspicuous unless you’re looking for it, but it’s all the victory she needs. Sinking her fingers into my skin a little deeper, she gently drags her nails down the side of my face. To the casual observer, it would look like a caress. A motherly one. Only we know otherwise.

“Watch your tone when you speak to me, Sebastian. You might be the big bad overseer of the family, but everyone has a weakness if you dig deep enough. Don’t make me expose yours.”

“I don’t have any weaknesses,” I growl.

“Oh really?” She cocks her head to the side. “Bel isn’t a weakness? What about the little maid?”

“Elyse is nothing to you, and neither is Bel. I won’t warn you again, Tanya. If you fuck with me, I will fuck you back, and it won’t end how you want it to.”

“Are you flirting with me?” There’s a hint of humor in her voice.

Of course she thinks this is a fucking game. Everything is a game to her.

No matter what, she’ll never win against me again. With Bel in the picture, I have something to live for, something to fight for, and I won’t let Tanya’s bitterness bleed off into her. Bel’s an innocent, and I refuse to let the dirty dealings of this family touch her.

“Only you would think this is a game.”

“Isn’t it?” She leans into my face, her lips curling in a smile. “It’s been so long since we played, Sebby. Why don’t you bend me over the desk and teach me a lesson?”

My gut churns, the contents of my stomach threatening to climb up my throat. I’m transported back to a time when I was too stupid and weak to say no. Too naive and dumb to fight back. I can feel that weak little boy, the one who always feared her, the one who still fears her in so many ways, threatening to crumble.

You’re stronger than this.

You’re stronger than her.

You’re stronger now.

I repeat the mantra over and over again in my head, waiting until I believe the words.

“Come on, Sebby. Don’t you want to play?” She taunts me, her breath caressing my ear. Beads of sweat collect against the collar of my shirt. I can feel the ghost of her lips against my cheek as she moves her head.

“Oh fuck. Who knew you could fuck better than your father?” She pants in my ear while shoving her fake tits in my face.

Even as I fight against the pleasure building low in my belly, I know I won’t be able to escape it. The orgasm is inevitable.

“Yes! Your cock feels so good inside me. So good, Sebby. I want you to fill me with your cum.” Her voice rains down on me, drops of acid falling from the sky.

“Sebby….where did you go?”

“Nowhere. Now leave. I don’t want shit from you,” I snap.

I know I could push her hand away, and I want to so I don’t have to spend the next hour scrubbing my skin raw, but I don’t. I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she affects me. My mind wanders again, and I slip into a dark space where no one can reach me, all while pasting on the bored expression that gets me through dealing with her and all the others like her. It might not be today or even tomorrow, but eventually, she will learn her place. Even if I have to beat it into her head, she’ll come to understand she no longer owns me.

Her lips form a pout. “That makes me very sad.”

I’m sure it does. I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes.

“I’d prefer if you stop with the riddles and tell me what you really want. Why are you here?” My flat tone is devoid of the emotion she loves to draw out of me.

“Fine. I’m sorry. I just wanted to know what was going on at home. That’s all.”

Her toxic scent of raspberry and Chanel No. 5 fills my senses, and I nearly gag on air as I suck a ragged breath into my lungs. Memories continue to assault me, threatening to drag me back down into the abyss.

No. Not right now. I suppress them as best I can, hoping to bury the memory of her hands, her punishments, her skin against mine but they still linger right near the surface.

I need something else to think about. Something to distract me. I don’t mention the fact that she’s been gone off and on for months and never cared to know what was going on before today, mainly because I don’t have the tolerance to deal with any more of her bullshit.

“If it’s that big of a concern to you, then I’ll tell you. I’m attending a business meeting and taking Ms. Silver with me to assist.”

Her eyes narrow, and she cocks her head to the side. “Assist with what…and why on earth would she need to remove her clothing to help you?”

“Not that I require your permission or need to share what I do or do not do with my staff, but I’m taking her to Pound of Flesh. And before you rudely interrupted me, I was having her try on a few dresses I had picked out.”

As badly as I’d love to tell her that I was getting ready to fuck Elyse, I don’t. I have no doubt in my mind that she would murder Elyse just to spite me if she thought for even a moment that the girl was competition.

Tanya smiles, all sadistic curiosity. “You’re taking that innocent little thing to Pound of Flesh? Have you lost your mind?”

I shrug. I have to wonder about that myself.

Tanya’s gaze sharpens, and her grin widens, white teeth flashing, sharp like a shark’s. “Oh…no…are you going to sell her? In that case, things might be different. She’ll fetch a pretty penny. Especially with how innocent-looking and doll-like she is. The men will eat her up and spit out the bones.”

I want to deny it. To shove her away from me and make my escape, but I don’t dare. It will only encourage her to sink her nails in a little deeper. “What I do with her is my business. If I want to sell her, I will. If I want to use her to draw someone else’s attention, I will do so. She’s my property.”

Her eyes narrow, and I realize I’ve given too much away. Like always. I hate these fucking games. I repeat myself so, maybe, even if Ely fights against it, Tanya will know. “She is my property and, therefore, out of your reach.”