Page 23 of Broken Saint

8

Nova

Standing in the living room at my floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, I basked in the lights and energy of the city in front of me. Despite the ups and downs Vegas had served me, I couldn't get the unique and wild energy of this place out of my blood no matter how hard I tried. It pulsed through me in a way that anchored me and fed my creative muse at the same time.

Having these helped, too. I untied the ribbon of the black velvet bag and gently poured the exquisite gems into my hand.

I didn't need to look at them to ensure they were still here, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I watched them glitter, almost trance-like. Stealing them had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done. When my father had shown up while I hid in the shadows, I’d thought my heart would stop.

For this, I owed my sister. The risks she took—that she continued to take—had given me the information I needed to pull this off.

I continued to roll them in my hand, watching them sparkle as they moved. I almost wished I could keep them. But every made man from here to Italy and back wanted these beauties. Having them in my possession this long was already driving me crazy.

All that mattered was that they were real, and they gave me hope. That hope had grown inside me like a living and breathing thing.

So why, after my sister’s latest call, had I devolved into an angry, scared creative little monster, taking out my frustrations the only way I knew how—with a sketch pad and pencil? While that outburst had created magic—as evidenced by the sheets of paper littering the ground around my chair with designs I knew were going to take the world by storm—I couldn’t shake the bitterness that had settled into my bones.

For the last five years, I'd tasted a freedom that had awakened my soul.

I'd certainly tried to go other places, but nothing ever came close to home. I always missed it, and I always came back.

Not sure what that said about me, considering my real home was off-limits and most of my family wouldn't even take a call from me if I did contact them. Which I didn't. Except for my younger sister.

Now, that freedom I loved so much was about to end. Five years ago, I'd made my deal with the devil. My father. A ruler in this city who wielded his power like an iron fist. He'd raised me for one purpose and one purpose only.

To marry a man he chose.

No exceptions. No alternate options. And no ability to choose.

However, in exchange for my eager submission when the time came, he had made me a deal that gave me five years of total freedom to do as I pleased. No questions, no connections and no interference. Needless to say, I jumped at the chance to experience that kind of life. At the time, five years had felt like an eternity. Today, it felt like a blink of an eye.

He had shockingly lived up to his word and then some. Or so I’d thought. After blaming me for everything that had gone wrong, he'd supposedly cleaned up the mess from that night, cut me off from the family and left me completely alone. I don't know what he'd expected to accomplish on his end by exiling me, but I'd thrived without him. Although, the first year had been rough. I'd lived in fear that he would change his mind and drag me back to an altar before my time was up.

Now, however, it was time to live up to my end of the bargain.

I picked up the handwritten note that had arrived by messenger this afternoon and read it again.

As agreed, your fiancé will arrive tomorrow to collect you. I have fulfilled my terms of our deal, now you will do the same. Do not make me come after you. It will not end well for anyone.

That was it.No dear Catherine, no signature from the man I called father for almost twenty-three years. Nothing but this terse note with the clear threat of retaliation if I didn't do as he said and a plain white card with a name printed on it.

As if I didn't already know exactly who my father had sold me to and for how much. He'd accepted a paltry sum, in my opinion, but I had a feeling it was by design. It wasn't the money he needed so much as the alliance. Tomorrow, the stranger I had promised to marry would arrive, and everything I'd built would come crumbling down. He expects my willing submission, and rightfully so. It was what I had vowed.

I had no doubt he would arrive just as expected because I'd already seen him. At first, I thought he was a figment of my overactive paranoia.

Then this note had arrived, and with the hair on the back of my neck standing on end, I'd realized he was already here and he had seen me—with another man.

A cold shiver worked up my spine. Just remembering the lascivious smile on his face as I'd been in the throes of an orgasm gave me the chills.

I don't know my supposed prince well, nor him, me. His reputation, however, precedes him. First and foremost, he's known as a cold and cruel businessman who steps in when no one else can get the job done. As the dark knight of his family, he doesn't shy away from getting his hands dirty—or bloody. Whatever he wants, he takes, and everything else, he destroys.

I did my research, and with him, I will be bound to a man exactly like my father.

That thought alone made my stomach twist. At this point, I'd do anything to escape that fate.

Anything.

Even sleep with another man.

---