Chapter 8
Gaven
Smoke lingered in the air above my head, drifting from the burning red end of the cigar sitting in the tray at my side.
On the screen, Angel moved around the room.
It’d been a few days since we last spoke.
Despite my rules and intentions, I found myself unable to go to her on many occasions.
I stayed up all night, working well into dawn just so I could watch her when she woke.
I’d decided that leaving her to her own devices—albeit locked in—was an appropriate way to let her get accustomed to her new circumstances.
I had other work to do as well now that she was back where she belonged. There were meetings—other Families to contact. Now that the woman who would carry the Price heir into this world was back in my possession, the things I’d been putting off for the last few years needed to be put into action.
Since Raffaello’s unexpected death and Jackie’s subsequent takeover of the Price Empire, the Price Family’s influence had ebbed and flowed.
It hadn’t gotten worse, but it certainly hadn’t grown.
Not like I had. With Raffaello’s right hand now mine, the undercurrents of potential war were rising to the surface.
I could have let it go. I didn’t necessarily need the Price Family’s assets to attain the power I sought.
The principle of it was, though, that I was owed something more.
Plus, I had the suspicion that if Jackie were to find out that Evangeline was back in the picture and that she would soon be taking her place at my side as she was meant to, there would be a whole new world of enemies to prepare for.
Angel hadn’t said as much, not when I’d asked, but I was by no means a stupid man.
It hadn’t taken the full five years to piece things together, but I was sure that Jackie was the true culprit behind Raffaello Price’s death.
She’d framed her sister, cast her out, and used the chaos to seize control.
It had all been smartly planned on her part.
I could respect a cunning woman willing to do what it took to be on top, but I couldn’t allow her to be a threat to my own, and Angel was just as much mine as the child she would soon be carrying in her womb.
Movement on the screen brought my attention back to the present. I turned my gaze to the images of my wife as she huffed and puffed, pacing back and forth across her room.
She was bored. I’d watched her off and on for hours.
She read many of the books that were stacked against the far wall across from the bed.
She’d tried to hide in the bathroom, but it hadn’t taken her long to find the cameras there.
I was more surprised that she hadn’t tried to disable them.
She very well could have, but perhaps my punishments were working.
So long as she didn’t try to escape, I would give her small freedoms such as this.
So far, she had been allowed to watch television. She’s fallen asleep and woken up again. She’s eaten the meals brought to her.
Now she paced. Back and forth. She turned, and my eyes skimmed down to her full, round ass. It was nice, I had to admit to myself, to have her right where I wanted her. Her tight little body was completely on display for me.
Sure, she attempted to cover up within the first day. When no clothes could be found, she’d tied the sheets from the bed around her body. The next day, she’d discovered no sheets or blankets available. Nothing would keep me from viewing what I owned.
On the screen, she finally stopped pacing and turned, looking up at one of the cameras placed in the corners of the room. Angel's arms arched up and crossed over her chest, plumping her breasts up, not that she seemed to notice. She glared at the camera with fiery intent.
That, too, I’d missed. Her grit and determination.
Her fight. I’d once thought Evangeline Price would be far easier to control than her sister, but what made my insides tighten every time I looked at her wasn’t the thought of simplicity, it was the arousal of my baser instincts.
Of holding down and forcing a woman with such ferocity to bow to me.
A weak, vulnerable woman was useless to a man such as myself, but a woman with absolutely no softness was not desirable either. Angel was the best of both. Strong but beautifully hungry for affection.
I loved this. Having her in my space, naked and dependent on me.
The reminder of her there, on my computer screen is enough to have my cock hardening in my pants.
Still, at the same time, there’s a pang in my chest. The high-protocol BDSM life could be fun, but the truth of the matter was that she and I weren’t part of that.
The truth of the lifestyle all relied on the trust between a Dom and a sub.
For us, trust had been broken, all but erased.
Her lies and her betrayal burned in the back of my mind on a constant low heat until it was ready to drive me to the brink of madness.
Yes, I wanted her. I desired her. Craved her, but more so than just her body.
Evangeline Price was the woman of my dreams. In my core, I wanted to devour and corrupt. Now, though, things were different. I hated that. Hated her for that.
We weren’t a true Dominant or submissive.
We weren’t true Master and slave, and we wouldn’t be until she finally opened up and told me the truth.
Until she trusted me enough to let me into her deepest parts.
Not her pussy but her fucking mind and heart.
Until we had that trust, this was all just like shadows dancing on the wall. A pseudo-relationship watered down.
“Gaven!” Angel called my name on the screen. “I want to talk.”
I leaned to the side, watching as Angel continued to glare at the camera—through it. In my pants, my cell buzzed, alerting me to a call.
With a sigh, I withdrew the device, glancing at the screen before answering. “Belmonte,” I barked into the receiver.
“Damn,” Archer said, “for someone who asked for a favor, you sure sound grouchy.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, forcing back the dull throb beginning in the front of my head as much as I could through sheer willpower. “Just tell me what you’ve found,” I ordered.
“Don’t need to,” Archer replied. “I just sent you a file. You’ll be able to see what I’ve found for yourself.”
I grabbed the mouse and clicked away from the cameras.
Angel could shout for me all she wanted, but I was the one in control here.
I would give her my attention when I saw fit.
Pulling up the secured email Archer would have used, I found the file waiting for me.
“I see it,” I said, opening the folder and then scrolling to the file attached.
“It lists everything your girl has been up to for the last five years—or at least what I could find. Funnily enough, when I talked to Scarlett, she said she recognized her.”
“Hadrian’s woman?” I clarified.
“Yup.” Archer popped the last part of the word, and the sound of his fingers tapping across a keyboard filtered over the background.
“She recognized Angel?” I sat up straighter. What would an ex-international thief have been doing to run into my wife?
“She said she met her in some bar in Cabo,” he replied. “Scar said they didn’t talk much, but she had a feeling that the girl was running from something. She’s got good instincts like that. Kinda funny, though, that she would have come that close to someone you’ve worked with.”
“I wouldn’t say that I’ve worked with the Scarlett Thief,” I replied dryly.
Archer chuckled. “No, of course not. She hates your guts.”
I hummed. No doubt if Miss Scarlett had known that Angel was running from me, she would have helped her.
I scrolled down the line of dates, photographs, and timestamps collected on the document before me.
Cabo. Italy. Fuck, even China. Angel had been all around the world in the last five years, it appeared. Another country pops up and I scowl.
“She was in Australia two years ago.” Rage surfaced, as well as the old memory.
I’d almost fucking had her then. Two years ago, I’d gotten a tip from one of my many contacts.
A woman matching her description had been seen in the Sydney area.
I’d sent men ahead, but once I’d gotten there myself, the woman in question had disappeared.
I’d never truly known if it had been her or another ruse.
The information in the file, though, along with CCTV footage told me that I’d been close.
Because of my delay, though, I’d missed my chance to have her two years earlier.
A curse worked its way up my chest, but before it could slip free as I turned my attention to other points in the file.
“There’s nothing in here about the men she’s fucked.
” The words were vile on my tongue, but I needed to be sure.
I needed to know just exactly what she’d been up to, and who she’d been involved with.
The doctor hadn’t seen any signs of childbirth or recent sex, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t played around while she’d been overseas.
“That’s not a mistake,” Archer confirmed.
“It looks like your girl was pretty much on lockdown. She’s practically lived the life of a nun for the past five years.
Any man I’d found her with on CCTVs hasn’t been confirmed.
Some of them are dead, married, or … well, let's just say they play for a different team.”
“What about the man she’d been with in Queens?”
“Yeah, I got him too.” Another email popped up on my screen as he spoke and I switched my focus as I opened yet another new file and scanned the contents.
“Ronald Wiser,” Archer said. “He’s a bit younger than her usual clients, but—”
“What’s his job?” I interrupted.