Playing with Fire: A Standalone Dark Romance

Chapter Five

Her cheeks burn with a furious blush as her eyes dart away quickly. I can’t help but let out my chuckle, watching as I rattle her.

I knew it wouldn’t take much to rile her and I’m looking forward to finding all the buttons she has.

She hasn’t mentioned the invitation yet though, so I bring it up for her, “You’ll be going into the city tomorrow.”

That gets her attention, “Excuse me?”

“You need a wedding dress.” I spin my glass before I pick it up and take a sip.

Her nose flares, “I’ll wear this.”

My eyes drop down her. I can only see her top half, but the robe has separated some, showing off the tan skin of her chest. I couldn’t see any straps or clothing peeking out which leads me to believe she’s naked under that thin piece of material.

“Exactly as it is?” I ask smoothly, “No panties and all?”

“Nope!” She stands abruptly, “Not doing this.”

She grabs the half bottle of wine and starts for the door.

“Sit down, Olivia.” I order, voice edged in that steel she witnessed back when we made this deal.

Her legs stop moving.

“Sit.” I say again.

With a grumble, she trudges back to the table, dropping down into the chair farthest away from me.

“Dennis will take you into the city at nine a.m. You have an appointment, my card is on file, pick whatever you want.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No. When you return, we can discuss the schedule for Sunday.”

“Where are my things?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Where they belong.”

“Where?”

I get up from the table, having not eaten a thing. Needling her was too much fun for me to give her what she wants so easily, even if it is as menial as her belongings. This is the most entertainment I’ve had in months.

“Good night, kitten.”

“Malakai!” She screams after me, her bare feet slapping against the floor, “Malakai!”

I glance over my shoulder, watching her as she storms toward me, the bottom of her robe parting and swishing around her bare legs. Long, toned legs that could wrap around my waist while I bury –

“Hey!” She grabs my arm, nails sinking into the material of my suit. “I need my things.”

I glance at the hand still on my arm and as if remembering herself, she snatches her arm back and crosses them over her chest.

“Head into the room next to yours,” I tell her in a low tone, “They’re in the closet.”

“Why are they in there and not my bedroom?”

“Because that isn’t your bedroom. Goodnight Olivia.”

She doesn’t continue to fight me and allows me to walk off, heading for the drawing room. I can hear deep voices filtering out through the gap in the door, quiet laughter and glasses being clinked.

I push the door to the room open, finding Sebastian, my right-hand man, drinking from one of my crystal glasses, three other glasses on the table while a pile of poker chips sit in the center.

Bast looks up to me, a shit eating grin splitting his face. Fucker.

“How’s the bride to be, Kai?” He taunts.

I narrow my eyes, “Settling in.” I lie.

Mirth dances in his green eyes, “Is that so?” He swipes a hand over his mouth while the other men around the table look on, “She sounds a little screechy.”

My mouth kicks up as I remember her blush and then the anger that bloomed almost immediately after. “Concentrate on the game, jackass,” I snatch the decanter from them, “You’re losing.” I eye the meager stacks he still has in comparison to the rest of the guys.

I know them all, there’s Dean, sitting in the chair closest to the fire, a dangerous man who has been in my inner circle since I took over nearly six years ago and my lead hacker, Killian his brother is opposite Bast and then there’s my cousin, Stefan, in the chair closest to me. He watches me more intently than the others, likely waiting for a slip up since he’s up next to take over should something happen to me, or I don’t go through with this wedding.

Our relationship, at most, is tense but since I have no choice but to keep him high on the pyramid, I deal with it.

“You buying in?” Killian leans back, placing his cards down on the arm of his chair.

“Not tonight,” I take my seat behind the desk and straighten up the items on top, adjusting the leather-bound notebook and run my hand over the embossed family crest on the front. It’s an image you’ll see throughout the estate, a shield with a crown at the tip, a raven perched on the left with the family initial in the center and the motto, artistically scrawled in black letter in a ribbon below.

Memento mori.

Remember death.

“Trouble in paradise already?” Bast pushes more.

As much as the fucker annoys me, he’s been my closest friend since we were kids. Killian, Dean and Bast are the only men I trust other than Abe who’s unusually missing. He always plays on poker night.

“Where’s my grandfather?” I ask.

It’s Stefan that answers with a shrug, “Old man said he had business to handle. Canceled last minute.”

Abe Farrow was the only Farrow to never sit on the imaginary throne of this industry. When his time came, he decided to hand the reins to his younger brother instead. He’s always been a member of the council, just never the lead despite our traditions. Since his brother never had kids, after he retired, the throne went to my father, Abe’s son, and now it’s with me after my father found himself in an early grave six years ago now.

I have no siblings.

Abe and Stefan are the only remaining family I have left. And I’ll be dead before I let Stefan take this business over. The slimy bastard will ruin it.

When my time is up, I plan on having an heir to take it over from me, I guess I just have to convince Olivia long enough to spread her legs for me to put a baby in her.

I shake my head, dislodging the thought as I pull out my cell and fire off a text to my grandfather. He’s old, almost eighty, but the stubborn fool refuses to lessen his duties.

Unfortunately, it isn’t as easy as sitting back and watching the world fall at our feet. There were appearances to be had, balls and galas and interviews that were required so we could masquerade as the law abiding citizens the world believes us to be. There are thousands of businesses under the Farrow branch, each one serving one purpose. To clean the money we make through the hitlist database.

And Abe likes to put on a show. He always has.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying not to imagine what ludicrous stunt he’s attempting to pull. It’ll have something to do with the wedding, I know it.

Add meddling to his list of qualities.

“I guess you and little Olivia didn’t hit it off straight,” Bast throws a couple chips in the center of the table, “And you thought she was a quiet little lady.”

“She is,” I say, “I expected some push back initially, but we’re still getting married on Sunday and it’s her in my rooms upstairs.”

“But not your room.” Killian quirks a brow.

“Give it some time,” I kick back, “It won’t be long before I have her on her back.”

Sebastian lets out a chuckle, “Now this is a bet I’d like to put money on.”

I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.

“Yeah, how much?”

Did I need the money, no, I didn’t, but would I make the bet just to shut him the fuck up? Absolutely.

“Five thousand.” He offers.

“Is that it? Come on, make it worth my while.” I roll my eyes.

“As if bedding that woman would be such a hardship,” Bast tuts, “Fine, a hundred.”

“A hundred grand?” I contemplate.

“Sure, why the fuck not,” Bast jokes and then goes all in with his chips.

I almost forgot they were playing poker in the first place.

“Time frame?” I ask.

“A month.”

I scoff, “I’ve got it in the bag.”

“Oh, I saw her,” Sebastian grins as he shows his cards to the rest of the table, “That girl wants nothing to do with you.”

For now. She wants nothing to do with me, for now.

“You’re on,” I get up, walking across the room to shake his hand to seal the deal. His palm slaps on mine in a quick shake before he turns his attention back to the table.

Two aces lay face up, winning him the pot.

“Who’s losing now, fucker?” He brags, dragging all the chips to his side.

He has too much money to play with. With a shake of my head, I head back to the desk, opening my laptop. Her image stares straight at me.

How do I get Olivia to fall in love with me?

It’s dangerous. A game I shouldn’t be playing but I had to wonder what her love might feel like. It’ll be a pity to break her heart when she realizes that’s not my end goal with her.

I just need a wife. And an heir. A pretty little thing to warm my bed.

But I guess it’s hardly a hardship for her, she’s got a comfy life now, though I had a feeling it’ll be a cold day in hell when she accepts that.

I watch the men ahead of me argue of the ethics of Sebastian’s win since they’re all now on their last legs and he’s got a pile of money ahead of him, money they’ll have to pay up by the end of the night, and wonder if she ever did get the courage to go searching for her things.

I’d be able to tell if someone was in my bedroom. It’s a sanctuary. Everything has a place so if one thing is out of order, I’ll know her dainty little fingers had touched it.

And as I replay our interactions from today, I don’t doubt my decision to scrap Regina and replace her with Olivia.

She’ll come crawling. I have no doubt about it.