Page 34 of Once Upon A Sale

This woman is making me question every fucking thing I’ve ever known. In my world, women are possessions to rule over. There’s a reason I have never had a relationship of any kind, and that’s because I don’t want all that. I love a challenge, which is why I enjoy my job to some extent, but I’ve never thought about how fucked up it is before now. People have been nothing but pawns my whole life, just things to keep The Firm running and the money rolling in. Easy.

I don’t think I want easy anymore.

There is no doubt in my mind that Ophelia is mine in every way. But I don’t want to rule over her. I want to rule beside her.

When I was first tasked with finding and watching her, I had a preconceived notion that she was a spoiled brat who was rebelling against her father’s way of life. I mean, she is that, but she’s also so much more. There’s depth there, and it’s more than just a rebellion for her, it’s a belief that she’s making the world a better place.

Fucking sappy shit, but it is what it is.

She does something to me that I thought was a myth. Something that’s only ever seen in the movies or in the books my mum used to love.

Mum was Dad’s gift from Grandpa when he first joined The Firm, but what their relationship taught me is that the women sold to a master can live a good life. As long as they obey their master, of course.

Ophelia’s mother wasn’t as lucky as mine, and I hate that for her, especially because of the path it’s led my Kitten down.

Splashing my face with water, I take a look at myself in the mirror of the bathroom. Maybe I could tell Dad that she’s not the girl they’ve been looking for, that she only resembles the girl from footage The Firm have seen. I know enough people to create a fake assassin they could chase down in her place.

I push my fingers through my hair and close my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath.

She’s gonna fucking kill me. Or at least, she’s gonna try when she finds out who I am. I know she’s been searching for me with some of my fake names, she just doesn’t know it’s actually me.

I know what I’m feeling isn’t all me though. This guttural sense of knowing that we belong together. She’s mine. I’m hers. There’s nothing else to it. She has to forgive me.

I’ve got enough money to last a thousand lifetimes, we can fuck off somewhere into the sunset and never look back.

The idea of letting her go after I’ve taken her back to the auction warehouse tonight is fucking painful.

I hate it.

Taking another deep breath, I shake my head at myself, and with a sharp nod, I leave the bathroom.

“Don’t you think that knife’s a little large for slicing cheese, Kitten?” All the crappy thoughts from before fall into a box in the corner of my mind when I see her making sandwiches in the kitchen.

“You scared?” She turns to me, does some fancy twirling shit with the knife, and fucking winks before returning to her task.

I laugh, a proper belly laugh because I can’t not. She’s fucking incredible.

“Maybe I’ll use this where I shouldn’t if you don’t start calling me Sunny before you take me to the drop off point tonight.” She doesn’t look up but I can hear the smirk in her tone as I walk up behind her and slide my palms around to her stomach. The T-shirt she’s wearing is, of course, one of mine, and it looks so much better on her. I could be with her like this forever.

Why did this weekend have to be so fucking short?

“Again, I’ll never call you that because that’shisname for you and you know it.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve fucked up.

So much for not being a fucking amateur.

Being lost in my thoughts has just done me over because she’s not stupid. She can put two and two together and come up with some kind of answer as to how I know about him—Logan—calling her Sunny. Even if she gets it wrong, I can’t lie to her anymore.

Fuck.

Ophelia’s body tenses and I’m suddenly aware that she still has a huge knife in her hand. My grip on her tightens as I guide my hands onto her forearms so I’m ready for her possible reaction.

“What do you mean by, ‘that’shisname for me?’ Who are you talking about, Rhett?” She’s incredibly still, unmoving, her gaze straight ahead.

“I think you know who I’m talking about, Ophelia.” I keep my voice low, steady.

“I do. But I’d like you to confirm it. Then I need you to tell me how you know about him.” There’s a slight tremble in her tone,but she’s not afraid. Adrenaline is filling her as her brain works to figure this out.

The elusive member of The Firm, who has been near impossible to track down. She knows he’s been able to keep tabs on her to some extent, which is why she took this risk to come here.

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