Chapter 20 Acts of Contrition
Acts of Contrition
Jordan entered the lodge like he owned it.
Marigold watched from the hidden observation room as her half-brother strode through the front doors with the casual arrogance of a man who’d never been told no.
Tall, golden-haired, and devastatingly handsome in his tailored Savile Row suit, he moved with the fluid confidence of someone who believed the world existed for his pleasure.
Behind him followed his entourage—a sharp-eyed lawyer in designer glasses, two private security consultants who looked like former military, and a man with a medical bag who could only be the bought and paid for psychiatrist meant to declare her mentally incompetent.
Stone appeared to greet them, immaculate in a designer black suit. His hair was perfectly styled, his expression professionally neutral. “Mr. Calder. Welcome to Kassel. I’m Stone Volkov, manager of The Preserve. We spoke on the phone.” He shook Jordan’s hand with firm confidence.
Jordan’s handshake was aggressive, designed to establish dominance. Marigold had seen him do it a thousand times, the slight squeeze too hard, the moment held too long, the way he pulled others off balance like an insecure dictator wannabe with a small dick.
But Stone didn’t move an inch further than intended and maintained higher ground through the brief exchange until Jordan let go, shaking his fingers to regain feeling.
“Quiet tonight.” His exaggerated posh accent carried clearly through the speakers. His pale blue gaze, so like their father’s, swept the foyer with calculating assessment.
“We thought a private setting might be more fitting tonight.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Where are the women?”
“The Aurelius family is hosting their monthly gala.” Stone’s smile was sharp. “But don’t worry. We’ve arranged something special just for you.”
Jordan’s eyes lit with interest. “You have my attention.”
“Everything you need is in the playroom. But first, we must discuss the terms of your membership.”
Jordan’s brows lifted with cocky arrogance. “We’ll see how the night goes.”
Stone didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back. Didn’t give Jordan the reaction he was fishing for.
“Quite a setup you have here,” Jordan continued, strolling deeper into the lodge without invitation. “Private islands, exclusive memberships. You must cater to some very particular tastes. How many members did you say you had?”
“I didn’t.”
“Regardless, it’s nice to find a gentleman’s club that values discretion.”
Hunter loomed behind them in silence, his lethal stare trained on Jordan like the scope of an AR. One wrong move, and Jordan would exist no more.
“Our clients understand the rules. We provide discrete accommodations,” Stone replied, playing up the role of ultimate host. “Consensual play and privacy are our specialty.”
“Privacy.” Jordan’s smile was sharp. “I imagine you see all sorts of... interesting behavior. Rich men with their hobbies and obsessions. Money does strange things to people, doesn’t it?”
There was condescension in his tone, the subtle superiority of someone who believed himself above whatever degeneracy he imagined took place here. He was already categorizing Stone and his brothers as lesser beings, service providers for the truly wealthy.
“Indeed,” Stone agreed mildly. “Shall we cut to the chase, Mr. Calder?”
“Which is?”
“Your sister’s situation.” Stone glanced back at his silent entourage. “Your guests won’t be permitted past this point.”
Surprised by Stone’s directness, Jordan shifted gears. “I like a man who gets right to business.”
“I understand you’re concerned about her welfare.”
“Concerned?” Jordan laughed, the sound rigid like breaking glass. “I’m fucking terrified. My sister’s been unwell for some time. Delusional episodes, paranoid fantasies. When she disappeared from her care facility, I feared the worst.”
The lie rolled off his tongue with practiced ease. Marigold’s hands clenched into fists as she watched him execute a flawless performance, despite never wasting an ounce of true concern on her.
“She mentioned family troubles,” Stone said carefully. “Perhaps we could discuss this more privately?”
“Of course.” Jordan gestured to his companions. “Dr. Morrison here specializes in crisis intervention for patients experiencing psychotic breaks. And my legal team is here to handle any... complications.”
Complications.
Those men were not on the right side of the law. Marigold had no doubt they would testify against her in court, acting as false witnesses to whatever took place here tonight. Jordan most likely paid them well to see the world from his perspective.
He was prepared to have her declared insane and dragged back to captivity before she could destroy his perfect life. She breathed deep in an attempt to mitigate the fury building inside.
Stone led them deeper into the lodge, past the common areas and ballrooms where members might normally gather. Marigold followed their journey on the monitors, Cole tracking with expert knowledge of the controls as the images alternated on the screens as they moved.
When Stone guided them to what looked like a conference room, elegant, private, with no obvious exits except the door they’d entered through, Ash was waiting. Her heart fluttered with uncertainty and an urge to see this through as quickly as possible.
The men entered casually, Hunter and Ash standing near floor-to-ceiling windows that offered views of the storm-lashed landscape. They looked exactly like themselves, wealthy, powerful men accustomed to getting their way.
“My partners,” Stone said simply. “Hunter and Ash Volkov.”
Jordan’s eyes sharpened with interest. “I assumed the big one was part of security.”
“No,” Hunter said, his obsidian gaze narrowing on the target.
“Volkov, did you say?” Jordan was already calculating how to use these men, how to leverage whatever they wanted against his sister’s inconvenient truths. Her brother moved forward with predatory confidence. “Family loyalty goes a long way in business.”
“Indeed,” Stone rumbled, his accent thick as honey. “Family loyalty is everything to us, Mr. Calder.” Dark meaning seethed behind his words, but Jordan was too arrogant to think his statement might also include Katya. The fool probably didn’t even realize they had a sister.
“Absolutely.” Jordan’s smile was brilliant. “Which is another reason why I’m here. Marigold’s family, and family protects each other. Even from themselves.”
The audacity was breathtaking. He was positioning himself as the protective brother while simultaneously planning to have her lobotomized into compliance.
“Stone’s caught us up to speed after your brief conversation,” Ash said. “But perhaps you could clarify your sister’s motives for running away. She was rather distraught when she arrived.”
“Was she?” His smirk proved he enjoyed any hint of a struggle. “I’d like to know how she gained entry to such an exclusive club in the first place. As her brother, I take her safety very personally.”
“I’m sure,” Hunter said with zero inflection, his jaw twitching with tension.
“Tell me,” Jordan continued, settling into a leather chair like he was holding court, “what exactly has my sister told you about her situation?”
“She mentioned family conflict,” Ash said quietly. “Some unpleasantness that led to her seeking treatment.”
“Unpleasantness.” Jordan’s laugh was bitter. “Is that what she called it? The poor thing has been having episodes for months. Paranoid delusions about... well, frankly, about me. She’s convinced I’m some sort of monster.”
“And you’re not?” Stone’s voice was perfectly level.
“Of course not.” Jordan spread his hands in a gesture of wounded innocence. “I’m her older brother. I love her and only want the best for her. But Marigold has always been... mentally fragile. Emotional. She sees patterns that aren’t there, conspiracies where none exist.”
Inwardly, Marigold recoiled. Hunter’s gaze looked directly into the hidden camera as if looking into her eyes and silently telling her not to listen, but she couldn’t shut him out now.
Jordan’s words depicted her as an unstable woman who ran head-first into dangerous situations with no thought to consequences.
She stared at the screen, her vision blurring under tears of fury. She didn’t want them to hear such horrible lies. What if they believed him? What if Jordan convinced them she was broken and they no longer—
Hunter shook his head. It was subtle and brief, but it was the command she needed.
That single look grounded her as much as any verbal command could.
He held so much authority in his stare, so much control.
As she drowned in the depths of those obsidian eyes, she knew they weren’t buying any of Jordan’s bullshit lies and were still—one hundred percent—on her side.
Marigold sucked in a unsteady breath and blew it out slowly. This was about trust and justice. They trusted her. Believed her. And Jordan would pay for his lies and crimes. She believed that with all her heart, and trusted her men to protect her.
The lies rolled off Jordan’s tongue with unhindered ease. He was a pathological con artist.
Leaning forward, he adopted the tone of a concerned sibling sharing painful family secrets.
“The truth is, she’s been obsessed with me for years.
Romantic fixations, the doctors call it.
When I started seeing someone seriously, something in Marigold broke.
She started making wild accusations, claiming I’d hurt other women.
Total fantasy, of course, but a dangerous one. ”
The lies came so smoothly, wrapped in just enough truth to be believable. Nausea churned in her stomach as she listened to him twist the facts. He was using her attempts to protect other girls as evidence of instability.
“Romantic fixation,” Hunter repeated slowly. “For her own brother?”