Chapter 11
Eleven
Kaden
Ilock the door and lean my forehead against the cool, solid wood, my eyes closed. My breath is ragged, my body a tightly coiled spring of want. One kiss. A chaste, simple press of my lips to the arch of her foot, and I am ready to tear the world apart for her.
I can still feel the silken texture of her skin against my mouth, still hear the soft, involuntary sigh that escaped her lips. That sound was a confession. A surrender. Her mind may hate me, her pride may demand she fight me, but her body… her body is already mine. It recognizes its master.
A slow, triumphant smile spreads across my face. This is a new kind of conquest. I have taken cities, crushed rivals, and built an empire on fear and blood. But the slow, meticulous seduction of this one broken girl’s soul feels like the greatest victory I have ever known.
I push myself off the door, forcing my body back under my iron will. The hardness in my jeans is a painful, insistent reminder of how close to the edge I am. I need a distraction. I need to reassert control over my world before I go back in there and lose control of myself.
I stride down the hall to my office. The first thing I do is call the compound kitchen.
“Dinner. My suite. One hour,” I command. “The ‘98 Bordeaux. Filet mignon, medium rare. Asparagus. And the chocolate lava cakes.”
It’s her favorite dessert. I know this because I had Alrik pull the menus from every restaurant Evilin has taken her to in the last two years.
I know her favorite flower is a stargazer lily, that she prefers tea to coffee, and that she has a small, crescent-shaped scar behind her left ear from a childhood fall.
I know everything. The information is a weapon, and I will use it to systematically dismantle her defenses.
As I hang up, Alrik enters my office without knocking, a privilege only he has. He places a thin manila folder on my desk.
“The file you requested,” he says, his face impassive.
I flip it open. Emily Carter. A photograph shows a plain girl with kind eyes.
The same girl I saw at the party. The file is concise but thorough.
Age twenty-two. Lives in a small apartment downtown.
Parents are deceased. No siblings. Her only living relative is an aunt in a nursing home, whose bills are paid for by an anonymous benefactor.
I’d bet my entire fortune that benefactor was Wynter’s father, and now Evilin is making payments to keep the girl quiet and compliant.
Emily Carter is utterly alone in the world. Except for Wynter.
“She’s clean,” Alrik states. “No criminal record, no debts, no vices. Her life revolves around her job at the Blanc estate and visiting her aunt on Sundays.”
“She’s loyal, then,” I surmise, closing the folder.
“It appears so,” Alrik agrees. “Is she a problem?”
I think of Wynter’s terror, her isolation. Emily is her only lifeline to her old world. A lifeline I can sever at any moment. She is not a problem. She is leverage.
“No, Alrik. She’s an insurance policy,” I say, a cold smile touching my lips. “Keep a loose tail on her. I want to know if she so much as sneezes in the wrong direction.”
“Understood.” He hesitates, a rare sign of uncertainty. “Sir… the Blanc situation. Evilin has been making calls. She’s trying to find out where you’ve taken the girl.”
“Let her,” I say with a dismissive wave. “Let her panic. Let her wonder. Her time is coming.”
“And the girl?” he asks, his gaze steady. “What are your long-term intentions?”
I look at the security monitor, at the thermal image of Wynter sitting on the edge of my bed, a small, solitary figure in my vast, empty room. My intentions. My intentions have become terrifyingly simple.
“My long-term intention, Alrik, is to make sure she never leaves.”
Alrik holds my gaze for a long moment, the unspoken questions hanging in the air between us. Then, he gives a single, sharp nod. “I’ll see to the dinner preparations.”
He leaves, closing the door behind him. I am left alone with my plans and my obsession.
Dinner. It will be another test. A war fought not with fists, but with forks and knives and glasses of expensive wine.
I will supply her with luxury. I will show her a world of pleasure she has never known.
I will be the perfect gentleman, the attentive host, all while reminding her with every glance, every word, that she is my prisoner.
She is a fortress, and I am laying siege. And tonight, I will breach another wall.