Chapter 25
VAUGHN
Sebastian
Where the fuck are we at with that confirmation, Wick.
Gideon
Gimme a minute.
Sebastian
I’m sitting here outside his fucking house with my dick in my hand like an asshole. WTF.
Sebastian
V-man, c'mon. Just pull the trigger.
Carson
I think he’s asking you to jerk him off, Marcus.
Sebastian
TF is wrong with you?
Carson
Hey, I’m not the one asking my boss to pull my trigger. That’s not how you get a promotion around here, Seb.
Sebastian
I’m going to make you swallow your teeth next time I see you.
Carson
make me swallow WHAT?? Is someone screenshotting this for HR?
Jesus fuck.
Being friends with these guys is, at times, challenging. Not that it’s hard to be their friend. But dealing with them sometimes really is like herding fucking cats.
Me
Gideon, I really need that confirmation.
Sebastian
Give him the fucking confirmation, Wick.
Carson
Mmm, yeah, pull his trigger, bb
Sebastian
DUDE
Me
Both of you fucking STOP. Seb, can you confirm Beaumont is at home?
Sebastian
He’s home. I’m watching him get his dick sucked by his mistress.
Carson
You kinky motherfucker.
Sebastian
She looks kinda familiar…shit, King. I think it’s your mom.
Carson
I will flay your skin with a salted knife while you sleep, cocksucker.
Sebastian
Speaking of sucking cock, what’s your mom charging these days?
Carson
That's it, motherfucker. You’re done.
Sebastian
Funny, I think your mom’s almost done, too. Wick, CONFIRMATION. NOW.
I look up from the phone, gazing across the dimly lit living area to Evelina, asleep on the couch.
Rage coils inside me as I replay seeing that motherfucker crouched over her in the trees, pushing her shirt up and putting his fucking hands on her.
There’s a reason Sebastian and few of his guys are lurking outside Jameson Beaumont’s beachfront mansion on Long Island right now. That reason is curled up on my couch with a blanket over her, looking so sweet and innocent. So good.
So mine.
When someone fucks with something that’s mine, they die. I just need confirmation of one thing first.
Jameson Beaumont is already on my shit-list, given that he was a close ally of my predecessor étienne and is one of the assholes fomenting rebellion within the Syndicate ranks.
As the Marquis, I’m king and commander. But the infuriating thing is, I still can’t just kick in Beaumont’s front door in without knowing with utter certainty that he was behind tonight's attack on Evelina.
Any historian will tell you that the line between “tough commander” and “mad king” is a matter of perception.
If Jameson Beaumont is mouthing off about me being in charge, sticking a gun between his yapping lips and pulling the trigger without proof he was behind the attack is a great way for me to lose even more control of this organization.
Carson
I’m confused. Why isn’t Seb dragging this fucker out by the balls yet?
This is why Sebastian and his guys are sitting in the shadows watching Jameson get his rocks off with his mistress. We know that the man who attacked Evelina tonight was working directly for Jameson Beaumont. But until Gideon’s tech wiz friend can crack the attacker’s phone and get proof of that—
My phone dings in my hand.
Gideon
We’re into the phone. There are texts from Beaumont explicitly directing him to kill her.
My nostrils flare.
Me
Seb, you’re up. Call me when he’s in chains on his way back to the city.
“What’s going on?”
My gaze snaps from the phone to where Evelina is half sitting up on the couch, looking confused as she takes in her surroundings.
She sits up fully, hugging her knees to her chest. “Where are we?”
“My place in the city.”
She chews on her lip, watching me closely as I stand, walk over, and sit on the edge of the couch. My brows pinch.
“I’m sorry you had to see that tonight,” I growl.
It wasn’t my intention to literally rip a man’s throat out in front of her. It just…happened. Like the switch connected to whatever holds Demon back most of the time got flipped the second I saw that motherfucker straddling her.
Evelina looks half-numb, half-terrified, holding the blanket tight to her chest. Her face is pale as her gray eyes dart around, looking at anything but me.
Without another word, I haul her into my lap. She protests a little, but when I plant her firmly on my thighs, she goes still. Her shoulders curl in on themselves.
I cup her chin and lift her face to mine.
“It’s okay if you're scared,” I growl quietly, my eyes locking with hers. “But you don’t have to be. The situation is being dealt with.”
She blinks, her throat bobbing. “D-dealt with?”
“The man who chased you works for a man who has issues with me. Coming after me is mistake enough. Using you to do it is…” I clear my throat. “Anyway, it’s being taken care of as we speak.”
She nods quickly, her eyes dropping to her hands.
“Here.” I turn and reach for the bowl of grapes and glass of water I left sitting on the coffee table for when she woke. “You should eat something.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re in shock—”
“I said I’m fine,” she snaps.
I breathe in and out slowly through my nose, studying her.
“Why didn’t you wait where I told you to?”
Her brows knit. “Excuse me?”
“I told you not to move from that spot on the stage.”
Evelina glowers. “Are you blaming me? Because it sort of sounds like it.”
“I’m pointing out that you would have been safer if you’d done as you were told.”
I can feel her bristle on my lap.
“Well, firstly, I’m not your employee,” she mutters. “And secondly, you yourself told me to go home.”
I frown. “No, I didn’t.”
Evelina looks at me like I’m crazy. “Okay, maybe not personally. But Sabine texted me that your meeting was going late and you wanted me to head back to the city.”
What the fuck.
Evelina tries to slide off my lap. I hold her firmly in place with an arm around her waist and keep her tight against my thighs while I reach for my phone with the other hand to text Sabine for some fucking clarification.
“Look at my phone if you don’t believe me,” Evelina mutters, still squirming. “That’s exactly what she said.”
I frown when Sabine doesn’t immediately text me back, then toss my phone onto the coffee table.
“I’m sure there was a misunderstanding.”
Evelina snorts. “No misunderstanding. She just hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
She shoots me a cold look. “Uh, yeah, she does.”
“She’s…protective of me.”
Evelina rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve been around enough dance drama. That’s not protective. She thinks I’m a threat.”
My brow wrinkles. “That's insane. Sabine is like a kid sister to me.”
“Well, you’re not like a big brother to her,” she grumbles.
I roll my eyes and reach for the bowl of grapes. “You do need to eat.”
“I said I was fine.”
I pluck a grape from the bowl and bring it to her mouth. “Open.”
She glares at me.
“I said open your mouth, Evelina.”
“No,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “I’m not a child. I don’t need or want you to—hey!”
She gasps, slapping at me as I grab her jaw, force her mouth open, and stick a grape inside before I close her jaw for her.
“Eat it.”
Her eyes pull to murderous slits. Suddenly, I’m wearing the half-chewed grape when she spits it at my chest.
My gaze locks with hers. She glares right back, even though I can see the nerves jangling behind the curtain.
“Eat. The. Grape.”
“Screw yo—AHHH!”
She yells as I reach out and pinch one of her nipples hard through her hoodie. When she does, I shove another grape into her mouth.
“Chew it and swallow it, or the next pinch will be a lot fucking harder.”
Her gray eyes go downright stormy.
“I'm serious. Spit that at me, and I’ll put you over my knee and spank you until you can’t sit for a week.”
Her lips purse.
Then she starts to chew.
“Sadist,” she mutters after she angrily swallows the grape.
“Duly noted.”
She eats the next five grapes I feed her and even drinks half a glass of water.
Evelina looks at me, her brow furrowing. “Why are you so rough with me?”
I blink. “I’m rough with everyone. This is who I am.”
She nods, reaching for a grape herself and popping it into her mouth.
“You’re talking about more than just me feeding you, though,” I murmur.
She glances at me. “It’s just…you come to me, you hate-fuck me—”
“I don’t hate-fuck you.” I scowl. “I fuck you the way I fuck. And stop pretending you don’t come apart at the seams when I do.”
Her face flushes dark pink.
“You’re just…”
“Rough,” I growl.
“Forceful,” she retorts. “And sometimes…okay, a lot of the time…” She blushes. “I like it. I mean, you know…when we’re…”
“Fucking.”
Her lip catches between her teeth.
“Yeah…that.” She blushes even deeper. “But I’m talking about, like…” She shrugs. “Well, like right now. Making me eat.”
“You’ve just had a traumatic experience, and whether you want to admit it or not, that comes with a certain physical and mental shock for most people. The best way to cut through it is to raise your blood sugar levels.” I frown. “And you wouldn’t feed yourself, so I did it for you.”
When her mouth goes small and she sucks on her teeth, I exhale slowly.
“That's just how I am around things that belong to me,” I say gently. “And you do belong to me, Evelina.”
She blinks rapidly. “So, we’re—”
“Not we.” I gently shake my head. “I don’t do we.”
She frowns. “So… What does that make me, then? Your possession?”
“Yes.”
Evelina scoffs loudly, then stares at me. “I’m not yours, Vaughn.”
My jaw ticks. “You are. Emphatically. You became mine when you chained yourself to me at the initiation as my Acolyte.”
Evelina blinks rapidly. “Okay, but you’re still saying this isn’t a relation—”
“Trust me, that isn’t something you want with someone like me.”
She looks at me with a mix of curiosity and caution, like she’s trying to peel back the layers.
…Which is a decidedly foolish idea.
My phone dings on the coffee table.
Sebastian
En route with Beaumont.
Sebastian
LOL he pissed all over himself.
Carson
You kinky motherfucker. I didn’t know you were into watersports.
Sebastian
You didn’t? I would have thought it would have come up at your mom’s house over Thanksgiving dinner.
I roll my eyes, put my phone down, and return my gaze to hers.
“I have to go take care of something,” I mutter. I grip her hips and slide her off my lap before I stand. “You’re staying here, princess.”
She arches a brow. “Says who?”
“Says me,” I growl, lifting her face to mine. I run a thumb over her bottom lip, relishing the way she shivers when I do. “Stay. Eat. Relax. Hang out. I’ll be back.”
“Y-you can’t kill me!!”
Jameson Beaumont is naked and tied to a chair with the middle of the seat cut out. I frown. I circle him in the small, windowless basement room, thoughtfully twirling the long strip of leather with the knot at the end of it.
“Hmm…can’t I?”
I snap my arm sharply, cracking the leather strip up through the hole in the chair seat. Beaumont screams as the leather bites into his hanging dick and balls, drawing blood.
“Goddammit, Bancroft!!” he bleats, shaking and sobbing. “You know you can’t! The Syndicate would never allow it! If you kill me, you’ll have a goddamn mutiny on your—”
“Oh, Jameson,” I sigh. “I didn’t bring you here to kill you…”
He screams as I whip his balls again. I do it again, harder, then even harder the time after that. The vicious sound of leather stripping delicate skin from delicate parts mingles with the wet splatter of blood and his blood-curdling screams.
“I brought you’re here to hurt you.” I squat down next to him and gently pat his cheek. “And I’m going to really, really hurt you.”
An hour later, I’m taking a break outside. My lungs are enjoying breathing air that doesn’t reek of blood, piss, shit, and fear as I look at the city around me.
“She okay?”
Gideon steps out through the rusty metal door and leans against the brick wall, looking up at the neon and steel towering over us.
“Don’t even bother asking who I mean, dickhead,” he sighs, smiling wryly.
My brow furrows. “She’s…fine.”
“At your place.”
“She was pretty shaken up,” I growl. “Not that I owe you an explanation.”
We both return to looking up at the city before he clears his throat.
“I know forming a tight bond with your Acolyte is encouraged,” he murmurs. “I also know there’s also nothing explicitly stated surrounding lines that we should or should not cross…”
I turn to narrow my eyes at him. “Is there an eventual point here?”
Gideon lifts his brows. “I’m just wondering which side of that unspoken line hand-feeding grapes to your Acolyte lies on. Maybe there’s someplace far more important you should be right now rather than torturing that fucker inside. The rest of us can finish up here.”
I think for a moment. “Offer accepted. Thanks.” I turn to leave before I stop and half-glance at him over my shoulder. “Hey, Wick…”
“Yeah, brother?”
“Spy on me like that again, and I’ll fucking bury you.”
He grins.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m stepping back into my penthouse. It’s quiet. I smile to myself, wondering if she’s fallen asleep on the couch or if she managed to find a bed.
The couch is empty when I walk into the living room area. A slip of paper on the coffee table with a scrawled note stops me before I go looking through the guest rooms.
I’m not a princess you can keep locked in a tower. I’m no one’s possession.
I sigh, shaking my head.
The fucking audacity of this girl…
Then my lips lift slightly at the corners.
She's playing games with a hunter. But I’m not sure she’s fully realized yet how very much the prey she is.