Page 7 of A Twisted Arrangement

“All clear.” Oliver says the same words he does every evening.

I make my way into my living room and try to escape the confines of my dress. It’s pretty, I’ll give it that, but I haven’t been able to take a full breath in the last hour. My fingers fumble with the black clasp that needs to come undone before I can slide the zipper down, but the thing will not unlatch.

“I’m off.” Oliver’s already walking to the door.

“Wait! Help me get out of this first.”

His feet pause midstride, and he turns to me with a look of horror. “You can’t just…tear it?”

“Are you kidding me? This torture device costs a fortune.” I reach back as if showing how impossible the task is. “Just undo the top clasp, and you can go.”

He looks out the window before his shoulders hunch over as he walks to me. Jeez, you’d think we were strangers with how he’s acting.

I turn to give him my back, trying to make this as easy as possible, and make a mental note to not wear this type of closure again.

His fingers don’t so much as graze my skin as he makes quick work of it, sliding the zipper down a few inches, finally giving me enough room to inhale properly.

Oliver’s phone rings, the sound shrill in the quiet, and I turn to face him.

“Hello.” His face drains of all color as he listens to whoever’s on the other side. “Of course, sir.”

He’s already walking backward toward the exit by the time he hangs up. “I’ll lock up.”

“I know.” We’ve done this countless times. I tilt my head to the side. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

“I fucking hope so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?—”

The door slams behind him before I can finish.

Strange. Something’s off with him. My skin starts to prickle with anxiety, but the champagne is dulling the sensation until I brush it away.

I tug at the back of my dress, letting it fall to the floor, leaving me in nothing but a navy blue bra and panty set.

Chapter 4

Matthias

I watchfrom my car as Oliver checks Scarlet’s place exactly how I trained him while she waits patiently by the door. I’d hired him the day she decided to go to college. I despised the idea of her being out on her own where I couldn’t be nearby, but as a Lord in the Order of Saints, I couldn’t leave my responsibilities for more than the few days I went to watch her every other week.

Oliver works as my eyes and ears when I can’t be there myself and was the only reason I didn’t go insane the seven years she was gone.

Another light turns on in her place, illuminating it all the way to the back. It’s impossible to see her from where I’m parked across her street, but after a year of this, I know her habits. Drunk Scarlet will be leaning against the wall, head tipped back, unwilling to admit to herself she’s unbalanced, even in her ridiculously high shoes.

Tonight’s pair are a navy satin that looked sharp enough to kill. I’d picked them out specifically because they reminded me of knives, and I have no doubt my Little Sparrow would happily use one to defend herself.

I’ve been sending her things under the guise of designer freebies over the years. The fashion houses are more than happyto play along with my little secret, so long as I make it worth their while. Over the years, I’ve sent dresses perfectly tailored to her dimensions, shoes the rich would be jealous of, and purses worth more than cars. Dressing her has been one of the small indulgences I’ve allowed myself. Spoiling my girl even before she’s mine.

Seeing her wear something that I’ve picked out has become an addiction. I’ve spent hours meticulously choosing each item to perfectly suit her.

Each time, it makes me want to buy her more. To spend more time learning every little detail about Scarlet’s likes and dislikes until I know her better than she knows herself.

After years of being starved of her touch, I nearly came undone when she fell into my arms tonight. I shouldn’t have been there, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. Everything I’ve done since she’d been the reason we’d survived her family has been for her. I will do whatever it takes to make her happy, even at the cost of my own sanity.

She’d looked up at me with wide doe eyes, bottom lip caught between her teeth, when I wrapped my arm around her. If we’d been anywhere else, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from taking her mouth. Resisting her has become excruciating, but she’s not ready for me. Yet.

The way she reacted to my touch sent a thrill down my spine. She may not understand why I’ve stayed away, but her body wants me. I can work with that.

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