Page 11 of Until I Own You

“You’ll what?” On the outside I need to keep my poise. Calm and collected. I need to have control over this situation.

I. Have. Control.

Bridget’s mouth twists. “I don’t know. I just don’t want you to talk to me anymore, alright?” Her voice pitches high, warbling with tears.

Double fuck. I don’t want to be the cause of her tears if there’s no pleasure involved. “Bridget–”

She turns, hands over her face, and runs out of her room, up the stairs to her wing of the house.

I remain seated at the table, staring at all the half-eaten plates of food, the empty seats. Empty because of me and my inability to get a handle on my emotions.

My inability to let Bridget go.

How can I after ten years of pining?

I grab my fork in my fist and close my eyes, trying to level my breath.

Now she doesn’t want me to talk to her because, in her eyes, I’m some sort of monster.

But I’m not a monster.

Bridget just doesn’t understand.

She’ll never understand.

If I’m cursed to want my stepsister the rest of my life, I want to at least be able to talk to her.

But I’ve fucked everything up by being too much. As fucking always.

Maybe I am a monster.

3

BRIDGET

“These sketches are fantastic, Bridget.”

I smile, hoping it’s not obvious how nervous I am. “Thank you.”

Deborah looks out from under her dark-framed spectacles at me for a brief moment, then back at my sketchbook. “I really like how bravely you shift your dynamics between your pieces.”

Deborah Angelise complimenting the dynamics of my drawings? I feel faint.

She continues to page through my sketchbook as I try to ignore the club around me.

I’ve been trying to get an audience with Deborah for months now. She’s very busy, a tycoon of the fashion industry, famous in her own right, even if most of her money comes from her French billionaire husband.

And right now, she’s looking at my sketchbook.

Is everyone watching us wondering if Angelise will give little Bridget Vance, daughter of the Lyons Club CFO, a chance?

I want to get things on my own merit, however the connections made through the club are invaluable. Besides, even if I can get an audience with some of the most powerful people in the world doesn’t mean they’ll just give me what I want.

“Oh! Well, this is surprising…”

I snap my attention back to the design she’s looking at, and my heart stops. “Oh, oh, that’s not part of the collection I wanted to show you.” I reach for the book.

Deborah smiles, lips full of mischief as she slides the book out of my reach and leans back in her seat to take a closer look at the page. “This is closing in on fetish wear, I’d say.”

---