CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MADDOX
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“She is still fucking marrying him!” I yell, tossing my phone on the sofa the next night.
I know I shouldn’t be surprised. I kidnapped her. Took away her freedom. The only thing she has ever wanted.
Apparently.
Little does Kyra know that Pierce is going to take far more. He will take her freedom and her soul. Her pride and humanity.
I should know.
I want to destroy him, but with the heat on us all—me—the last thing I can do is send a hitman to his house. Trust me, I want to.
Am I capable of killing my own father?
Yes.
I was a week ago, and now, the thought of him touching Kyra has my finger hovering over a number I have committed to memory.
It has always been Plan B.
Now, after speaking to him on the phone, I want him gone. Completely.
I pace the floor of my penthouse and fight every instinct that tells me to drive the fuck over to the Fox mansion and steal her one more time.
She hasn’t replied to my message.
I know she’s read it. I’m a fucking tech security specialist and know how to monitor these things. Well, that and the two little ticks on the screen.
Fuck me.
I’m like a teenage goddamn girl.
Kyra has chosen not to reply, and I need to respect that.
No, I fucking don’t.
I also need to stay away—so says my lawyer and the police. But fuck them. They don’t understand that she belongs to me.
“It’s her choice,” Parker says from my balcony and blows out the smoke from his cigar.
“Stop smoking those fucking things. They stink.” I growl, shooting him a look.
“I’m trying them out. I think they make me look distinguished.” He shrugs.
They don’t.
“They’ll make you look dead if you get fucking lung cancer. But, whatever, kill yourself, I don’t care.”
Parker knows I don’t mean it.
There are very few things I care about. My friends are right at the top. I would die for these men. As they would for me. We might not have the same surname, but we’re brothers walking the same fucked-up path seeking revenge from those who damaged our souls.
“Jesus, you really like this girl, don’t you?” Parker exclaims and blows out more fucking smoke.
Like? No. It’s worse than that. I’ve claimed her.
Claimed her with every part of my being.
I stop pacing and face him, then look him in the eye. “She’s mine, Parker.”
“Fuck,” he mutters and puts out the cigar, then props his hands on his hips. “So, how are we going to fix this?”
I just shake my head for a long moment, then glance out at the city lights.
“I have one more day until she walks down the aisle.”
I’m still hoping she replies to my message. I’m still hoping she has my sex toy inside her pussy. I’m still hoping I can wrap myself around her and make her utterly and completely mine forever.
“Whatever you need. And I speak on behalf of all the guys,” Parker says firmly. “You know that.”
I nod.
I just need to make sure what I ask of them doesn’t destroy them further.
“Side note...I found her,” Parker says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
My brows lift in surprise. I know who he’s talking about. I don’t need to ask.
“Jesus, what have you done?”
“Nothing yet.”
But he will. The unspoken words hanging heavily between us.
“She is innocent, Parker.”
Jesus, have I been that distracted with Kyra that I stopped paying attention to my friends?
Yes.
I need to sort this out. Get my girl and make sure Parker doesn’t do something crazy.
“Fuck you, Maddox. Like you can talk.” He points the dead cigar at me and sneers. “Unlike you, my father is dead. I don’t get the luxury of tormenting him. But I can torment her.”
He will too.
Fuck.
We need to call an intervention. And if he doesn’t like it, he started it the night he and Travis turned up at my place.
This is what we do now, apparently.
Or we could just hit some dark alley and revert to our fighting days. I wouldn’t mind throwing a few punches right now.
Parker might look like some tattooed GQ model walking around with a big fat bank account, investing in businesses and turning them around. But deep down, the wounds fester. He’s the kind of kid that pulled wings off flies and sat watching them suffer with a lick of joy.
Maybe even more.
All four of us know we must keep him in check.
I don’t know who hid the second wife and stepdaughter when his father died and we left college, but they were smart.
Now, Parker’s found her.
He’s fantasized about what he’d do when drunk or angry, and there’s no way any of us are going to let him follow through with his plans.
“Don’t do anything before we talk.” I say firmly.
His lips twitch into a smile.
“Parker, where is Aurora?” I growl, taking a step closer.
“Safe for now,” he replies and walks to the edge of the balcony, placing both hands on the railing and looking out over Manhattan.
I bet she fucking isn’t.
I’m in no position to argue with him right now. I kidnapped Kyra. But I had no intention of hurting her. Nor falling...
Fuck.
Am I in love with her?
“Marry her, Maddox.” Parker turns. “I saw you two together last night. I saw the look in your eyes. The utter possessiveness and lust.”
“Lust”—I shake my head—“doesn’t keep a marriage together, Park.”
He pushes away from the rail.
“It does for a man like you.” He walks up to me and lays a hand on my shoulder. “She needs your dominance and to be owned. Even if she doesn’t understand it yet.”
Jesus. Is he right?
“You’ll give her the freedom she wants while keeping her protected from those who will take advantage.”
Like both our fathers.
“If he’s fucked her, Parker, Jesus.” I run a hand through my hair as his hand falls away.
“Kill him.” I let out a long breath at his firm and final words, but he continues. “Stop fucking around. You know he needs to die. He will tear her apart and spit out what’s left of her.”
A roar builds inside me.
“Get it done so nobody can trace it back. You have enough money and power to protect yourself. If it needs to be ordered by one of us, just say the word.”
I stare at a framed picture on the wall, imagining a bullet flying through the air and hitting my father’s forehead.
Seeing him fall to the floor and him taking the last breath of life he’ll ever take.
Feeling the satisfaction that the pain can now end once and for all.
“Do it for all the young children he’s harmed. For all the men he’s framed. Hell, he probably has a few judges blackmailed. How many people do you think would be sad to see him dead?”
“None,” I reply darkly.
Including Kyra.
I think.
Her parents have groomed her to take a man who will further their business and, for all I know, taking that from her could be the worst thing I do. Psychological damage is not to be disregarded.
She needs your dominance and to be owned. Even if she doesn’t understand it yet.
I hang on to Parker’s words.
But her silence is deafening and not being in control is not something I am comfortable with.
“Remember the code.” Parker says, and together we say, “Strength in silence: revenge is a patient man’s game. We act in shadows, speak only truth, and never reveal our hand too soon.”
“Thank you.” I hold his stare for a long moment, then he nods, walks to the elevator, and disappears.
––––––––
I RIP MY bath towel off and hang it on the rail, then stride into my bedroom. I’m wound up like a caged tiger.
I glare at my phone for the millionth time.
What if she doesn’t have her phone? What if her father read the message and is keeping her from me?
“Fuck this.” I cross the room and dial her number.
It rings.
And rings.
And...
“Hello,” her soft voice answers and my eyes press closed.
“Kyra,” I rasp roughly.
Neither of us say anything for a long moment.
“Tell me you’re okay,” I demand.
“Yes.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. I was almost asleep,” she replies, and I imagine her lying in bed curled up.
My mind flicks back to the headlines online about how Ms. Fox had returned home and would be walking down the aisle to marry Pierce Sterling as planned. The Fox PR team had concocted some cold feet story, coupled with her mental health condition, and Kyra apologized to law enforcement for wasting their time.
Clearly, her father had made a sizable donation to the city.
It was all complete bullshit.
“I want you to come home.” I rasp.
“It’s not my home. It was my prison,” she whispers.
“You belong here with me.” I hiss.
“I can’t.” I hear her whimper, and it infuriates me. I know she’s submissive, but for fuck's sake, how can she let them force her into marrying the asshole?
I snap.
“Tell me Kyra, do you have the toy inside your pussy right now?”
Silence.
My lips curl at the edges as my brows dip. She does.
“The one which stays inside you until my cock replaces it?” I growl. “Is the bar on your clit teasing you as I did with my tongue?”
“Maddox, stop.”
“Are your nipples hard hearing my voice?” I grip my thickening cock. “Tell me, Kyra.”
“Yes.” Her voice barely audible.
“I’m stroking my cock, imagining that I’m thrusting inside you.”
She lets out a moan.
“Rubbing my thumb over your clit as you arch into it. Oh baby, if only you could see how much my cock is leaking right now.”
More moaning.
“Clench around the toy, baby.” I stroke harder, closing my eyes.
“Maddox.”
“Does my father make you hot like this?” I ground out angrily. “Do you want his mouth on your cunt, Kyra?”
I know she will hate me for this.
“Or do you want my tongue lathing you? The fat head of my cock sliding inside you as you press your small tits up, begging for me to suck them.”
“Stop.” She cries and I almost halter at the pain I hear in her voice.
“Do you want his come dripping from you, creating a child inside you that will be my sibling? Is that what you fucking want, Kyra?”
I hear her sobbing, but I can’t stop. I want this woman, and I need her to understand the implications of what she is about to do.
What she’s about to take from both of us.
“To be my stepmother instead of my lover?”
My wife.
Jesus. I’ve never thought of marriage. Of taking a wife. Of committing to a single soul beyond my brothers. Of loving anyone.
“Maddox, I can’t—”
“Marry Pierce, and you become my enemy.” I warn, strangling my cock with my hand. I might be still aroused but thick hate is flowing through my veins.
“Maddox, please.” Kyra begs.
I don’t speak, waiting for her to come to her senses.
I don’t mean it. She could never be my enemy. I’m just going out of my damn mind.
“I am confused,” she finally says. “You kidnapped me. Took me. That’s wrong. I don’t know...I shouldn’t have felt the way I did.”
Fuck that.
“How did you feel?” I demand.
“Scared.”
That’s not what she’s meaning. She’s lying all over again.
“What else?”
“Desire.” Her voice is small again.
“What else, Kyra? What fucking else?!”
“Pleasure and...I want to feel all of that again, but it’s not right. I can’t trust you.” She rushes out.
Despite my frustration, I know she’s right to feel all those things. She shouldn’t trust someone who would pay to have a man drug her and kidnap her, then lock her away from her world.
I would kill anyone who tried to do it to her again.
She needs your dominance and to be owned. Even if she doesn’t understand it yet.
“Your body needs mine, Kyra. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“No. You’re not wrong. God, I ache for you.”
Fucking Jesus. My cock hardens again, and I begin to stroke, fighting the urge to drive over and take her all over again.
“I can’t stand by and let another man own you, Kyra. Especially not the monster who destroyed my very soul. You can’t ask that of me.”
“You don’t understand. My father said Pierce will destroy him if I don’t. I have to do this.”
So, her father sucked some cock along the way too, did he? The truth hits me like a ton of bricks. Of course, this is why he’s letting his daughter marry Pierce. My father is blackmailing him.
I don’t say it out loud.
There’s no way I want Kyra to know what these fucked-up men do. What they did to me. She’s way too innocent. And while I hate her father, having those thoughts of him in her head would hurt her more than benefit me.
I stay silent.
I don’t think Kyra knows that she has freewill. Pierce has already taken everything from me. I won’t let him have Kyra. She might not choose me after this is over, but at least I know he won’t be lying beside her every night. Touching what is mine.
“Rub your pussy for me,” I rasp. “Do as you’re told, sweetheart.” I hear the sheets rustle and a moan escape again. “Good girl. Rub faster while I stroke my cock.”
I close my eyes and imagine my gun pointing at Pierce’s forehead. Stroke after stroke I see him falling to the ground, begging for his life while I listen to Kyra’s heightened breathing and little mewls.
“Oh god,” she cries. “Maddox.”
“That’s it. Clench the toy, pretend it’s my cock.”
“Shit. Oh, shit.” Her voice is trembling.
“Come now, Kyra.” I command as my orgasm strikes and I curse, coming in my hand.
Goddamn, I want her in my arms, up against my chest, my mouth on hers.
She groans out her pleasure and I’m brought completely back to the moment, imagining her hand between her sweet legs.
“The next time I see you, I’ll be licking that pussy clean,” I say. “Goodnight, Kyra.”
“Wai—” I hear as I hang up.
I have another call to make.