Page 56 of Broken Surrender
“I will sell you to the Board,” I growled. I imagined shooting her in the head, like I had done with Kate, the red mark piercing her forehead like a ruby, like that stupid necklace, the red jewel that proved to me that Lena would never be mine.Mine.And yet I needed her, didn’t I? I needed her by my side and that made me insane. Because I couldn’t stop it. Because I needed to be strong again. To be without her. To know that I could do the right thing and not make the same mistake again. That I could stop thinking about myself and not force her into my dangerous life.
Or hell, just put her out of her misery.
“I will tell them exactly where you buried your husband,” I added in a low voice. “I will deliver your body to them.”
“You won’t,” Lena said, her voice shaking. I pulled the strap, watching her convulse as she choked, her pussy squeezing my dick. I let go of the strap, giving her a small breath of air as I smacked her ass. “You won’t, Desmond,” she cried. “Or you would have done it by now. And you know it.”
I gritted my teeth together, losing my control, my dick going soft. But to hell with that. Perhaps she was right. But I didn’t care about her and I could change everything right this minute. I fucked her harder, slamming her into the desk, letting the wooden furniture creak. Her velvet walls sucked me in, making me go deeper, making me see nothing buther.If this was what she wanted, to know that I would rather fuck her than sell her out, then fine, I was going to fuck her, again and again, because she was mine.Mine.
My come pulsed out of me, dripping into her pussy.
I sank back, turning away.
I needed to regain control, and unless I gave her up to the Marked Blooms Syndicate or got rid of her myself, then I would never have that power again. Because love made you lose sight. It opened your wounds. Dug a cavity inside of your flesh. Made you realize you were mortal after all.
Because I loved her.
But I could deal with this.
CHAPTER 19
Lena
The next day, he ignored me, like I was some person crashing in his house. And maybe I was. He had moved on from whatever had happened yesterday, but for me? I was still trying to figure it out.
It was an off day for everyone. Corinne had been acting strange too, and I’m sure I was just as weird. But now that he was off to work, I knocked on Corinne’s door.
I plopped down on the couch. “Real talk?” I asked.
“Spill.”
I motioned upstairs to the closed door. “Is he always like this?”
“You mean moody and reclusive?” She smirked. “Yep.” I forced a smile, and she shook her head. “He’s probably got something going on at work. That’s usually what it is.”
I lifted my shoulders. “I should go home anyway. Make sure everything is fine.”
“Come back when you get bored. I want to discuss this new series.”
As the day passed at the Dalton House—my house—I let myself get more and more comfortable. There were guards around the house, posted out of sight, and with the house staff there, everything seemed normal, just solitary and relaxed. Gillian, the housekeeper, and I ate fresh-picked blackberries in the kitchen during her break. An hour later, a loud voice came from outside. A man with sharp features was in the window, talking to one of the guards. I recognized him, but I couldn’t place where.
“You do know I have snipers on every one of you?” he announced. “And a bulletproof vest. And please, gentlemen. I only want to talk with her,” the man said. “There’s no harm in that.” He rang the doorbell. I raced down the stairs and analyzed the security footage. Two guards were a few feet behind him. A few more were behind me. One of the men outside was talking to his earpiece. He must have been telling Desmond about the visitor.
I opened the door. The man’s pointy jaw jutted forward as he offered me a hand. “Mrs. Dalton,” he said. We shook hands, and my palm instantly clammy. Did I know him? “Is your husband home, by any chance?”
I shook my head. “He’s been gone for a while.”
“Still on the business trip?”
I shrugged. “He rarely updates me on these things.”
“Ah. I hate when he’s like that.” He lifted his chin. “May I come in?”
Besides the threat of snipers, the man seemed harmless enough, and there were so many guards around us that I doubted he’d be able to do anything anyway. And he said he just wanted to talk. Even so, my stomach twisted into knots and I couldn’t let go of that gut feeling. Maybe it was okay to be paranoid, to trust my instincts.
“Maybe another time,” I said.
“I understand completely.” He bowed his head. “After what you’ve been through, it’d be hard to let a stranger into your home.”
