Page 25 of Prized Possession

In the end, the decision is taken out of our hands when the door to the room flies open and my father sticks his head out into the corridor. He winces when he sees me, and my heart rate begins to accelerate, anxiety creeping in.

“Ah, Chloe, you’re right on time,” he says.

I resist the urge to reply sarcastically. I know better than to be late, or to sass him when he’s in professional mode, and the suit he’s wearing indicates this is a formal meeting, which is why I’m now more on edge than I was before.

He opens the door and indicates for me to come in. As soon as I step into theroom, my heart stutters. Marcus and Jacob are sitting beside each other, my father’s empty seat opposite them.

Jacob is looking down at the table, unable to meet my gaze, which makes me even more agitated. Yet, Marcus’ piercing blue eyes are what has my stomach flipping. He stares at me unapologetically, not even bothering to hide the way his gaze travels over my legs.

I’m broken out of my trance when Dad indicates for me to take the seat next to him, opposite Jacob and Marcus. Once we’re all seated, the silence hangs heavily in the air, like we’re all waiting to see who will cut the tension first.

After a few seconds, Jacob lets out a sigh, and when his gaze meets mine, he looks devastated. My heart is racing so fast, while nausea bubbles away in my stomach.

“I’m so sorry, Clo,” Jake says, his big brown eyes pleading with me in a way I don’t understand.

I look over to Marcus, who has an unreadable expression on his face, but that signature smirk of his is still there. His eyes are guarded, and that worries me.

“What’s going on?” I ask, slightly panicked.

Jacob looks like he’s going to respond, but my dad’s firm, authoritative tone cuts him off. “As usual, your brother has fucked up, and we’re having to clean up his mess.”

I turn towards Dad, and I’m surprised to see him looking at Jacob with obvious disdain. He’s been struggling lately with Jake’s behaviour, and he hates having to cover for him, but he’s always been his favourite. I’ve never seen him look at Jake like this, and I don’t like it.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” I snap at my dad. As all the eyes in the room hit me, I regret my outburst.

The giant grin on Marcus’ face almost makes it worth it, until I see the rage my dad is struggling to hold back. “You won’t be sticking up for him when he tells you what he did.”

This time I turn to Jake, trying to blank out everyone else. Looking straight at my brother, I give him a kind smile. “Tell me, Jake.”

He lets out a loud sigh, seeming to deflate at the same time. “I fucked up, Clo. You know how me and Marcus have a poker night every month to work out all the issues we have running Blackthorn?”

I narrow my eyes at him, wondering where he’s going with this. “Yes?”

“Well… I was sure I had a winning hand, but Marcus had way more chips than me. If I wanted to match his bet, I had to offer something of great value,” he explains, fidgeting nervously in his seat as he picks at the skin on one of his hands.

My brain is working a mile a minute, trying to predict what he’s about to say. It’s clear he lost the bet, I’m just wondering what high value item he sacrificed. It must be something big for Dad to be involved.

After a few moments of silence, Jake rushes out, “IbetyouandIlost.”

The words tumble from his lips, and I struggle to make out what the hell he just said. “What?”

Jake’s eyes are wide, glistening with unshed tears, and he looks like he’s in pain. He takes a deep breath, almost as though he’s trying to pull in the courage he needs to finish his story.

Marcus seems to take pity on Jacob, and fills me in on what I missed. “Jacob made a bet involving you that he lost. As a result, you now belong to me. You will come to live with me for the next sixty days, and you will be expected to do everything I tell you. No exceptions, no loopholes. This was the bet, and now I’m cashing in my prize.”

Each word is like a knife to my gut, and I feel as though all my blood is pouring out of me, leaving just a shell. Jacob can’t look me in the eye, and my dad looks furious, though I’m not sure who he’s mad at most.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I’m not a fucking object that can be owned. Jacob can’t have used me in a bet, as I don’t belong to him,” I snap, fixing my stare on Marcus.

The right side of his lip quirks up, like he’s challenging me with that fucking cocky smirk. “No, you belong to me.” The possessive edge to his voice makes my body tremble, but not in fear like it should.

I push those inappropriate thoughts to one side and focus on the indignation I’m feeling at once again being used like a fucking object.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” I try to keep my voice firm, hating the way it cracks at the end.

Dad interrupts Marcus before he can say anything more. “Actually, Chloe, you belong to this family. As much as I hate this, Santoros honour their agreements.”

My mouth literally pops open in surprise, and as I shake my head at my dad in disgust, I point out the obvious issue he’s clearly ignored. “Have you forgotten that I’m supposed to be marrying Scott in six weeks? Surely that’s an agreement that we can’t get out of either.”

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