Page 81 of Deadly Rival

She swallows, then walks over slowly and perches herself on my knee. The little outfits I allow her don’t seem to bother her anymore. I brought in a few pieces more to my taste—still tiny, but beautiful fabrics in shades that compliment her rather than make her look cheap. She’s not cheap. If she’s a pet, she’s a pedigree.

Today’s selection is technically lingerie, but who cares? It looks incredible. Shimmery blue fabric wraps her curves, stopping high on her thighs. I let her wear panties for her trip out with the girls. I’m generous like that.

I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close. She still smells of fruity shampoo, and I close my eyes, breathing it in. This might be my last day with her. My last day on the planet.

“What is it? Has something happened?” She sounds nervous now.

I trace my fingers over her hip. Christ, she feels good under the slippery fabric. “The ceremony is tomorrow. They’ve moved it forward.”

She flinches, eyes going wide. The expression gives me a tiny moment of hope. It’s not relief. Not excitement at the prospect of getting the hell away from me. If anything, she looks horrified, though she covers it almost immediately. “Oh.”

The silence stretches. I’d give everything I own for a peek inside that beautiful head. I can’t imagine her thoughts. I can’t imagine feeling anything but hatred for someone who treated me the way I did her. But unbelievably, she leans her head on my chest.

God, she’s perfect.

I reach behind me, ignore the warning shriek from my healing ribs, and pull out a box wrapped in blue tissue paper. She takes it with a questioning look. “What’s this?”

Why do people always ask that? “Open it and see.”

She does, giving me a suspicious glance when she uncovers the large velvet jewelry box embossed withOpheliain curly gold script. It’s tacky, but in such an over-the-top way that it goes full circle and comes back into being stylish. I think so, anyway.

As she opens the box, I hold my breath. My last flimsy hope hangs from a thread, and her reaction to this could snap it for good. She draws in a sharp breath when she sees the custom-made piece.

The collar shimmers, the same blue as her hair and my eyes. It’s almost an inch wide but flexible, made from an experimental alloy that moves like fabric with the strength of steel. I half expect her to throw the box down, but she plucks the collar straight into her hand instead, twisting it between her fingers.

“How is it so light? And soft?” She holds it up, watching the sparkles.

“That’s a very dull explanation involving a lot of math. If you like, I’ll arrange a talk on the subject.”

A smile flickers over her lips. “I’ll take your word for it.”

I let her examine it at her own pace, waiting for the moment she finds the next surprise. She frowns as she runs a finger over the oval depression. “What’s this?”

“Oh, that just lets me change things depending on my mood. And on how you’re behaving, of course. I’ll make more as time goes on.” I open the hidden compartment in the bottom of the jewelry box and show her the engraved tags.

Good Girl

Sebastian’s Pet

Punish Me

Pretty Little Slut

She turns them over in her fingers, one by one. I takeSebastian’s Petand touch it to the depression, where the tiny magnets lock it in place. “We’ll go with this one for now. Lift your hair for me.”

She hesitates, and I sigh. “I thought saving my life earned you the pretty collar, but if you love your training one so much, I’ll go and fetch it.”

“No!” It’s an instant response. What motivated it? The threat of the thick leather collar or not wanting to lose the pretty one? She gathers her hair up and lifts it, turning to allow me to fasten the collar. It shuts with a satisfying click.

I sigh as she lets her hair fall. It’s perfect. Everything about it is perfect, and it fucking kills me that she might only wear it for a day. I never want to see her without it.

The same thought must cross her mind, as she runs a finger over the smooth back of the collar. “How does it come off?”

I give her the smile I know sets her on edge. She pretends not to, but she likes a little danger. It must run in her blood. She’s a crime boss’s daughter, after all. “That’s the fun part. Without me, it doesn’t.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ophelia

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