Chapter 12 Vane
VANE
“That one goes over there,” I direct, pointing toward the far corner of the warehouse as the carnival crew unloads crates from the truck. The smell of sawdust and machinery oil hangs in the air, mixing with the scent of sweat from the workers hustling under the harsh fluorescent lighting.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Elliot. Finally.
“I need to take this,” I tell Colt, who nods and continues supervising the unloading.
I step outside into the cool evening air, the warehouse's metal door clanging shut behind me.
“Well?” I don't bother with pleasantries.
“She agreed to the terms,” Elliot says, his voice crisp and professional. “Though I had to triple her current salary to seal the deal.”
I lean against the brick wall, a smile spreading across my face. “I told you that's fine. Whatever it took.”
Fifteen years. Fifteen fucking years I've been tracking her movements, watching her career unfold from a distance. The moment I learned she'd established herself in the New York art scene, I knew exactly how to bring her back. The gallery was just the beginning—a perfect excuse to lure her home.
“And the penthouse?” I ask, though I already know the answer. No one could resist that view, especially at the price I instructed Elliot to offer.
“Yes, she took it without much hesitation. Seemed quite impressed, actually.”
I chuckle. “Of course she was.”
Little does she know she'll be living in my building. In my penthouse. One I can look into from my own penthouse in the neighboring building. The one I've been keeping empty, waiting for the right moment. Everything has been planned down to the last detail.
“You've done well, Elliot. The usual bonus will be in your account tomorrow.”
“Always a pleasure doing business with the Blackwoods,” he responds.
I end the call and pocket my phone, savoring the moment.
Lia Morgan is coming home. To Ravenwood. To me.
Fifteen years is a long fucking time, but some things are worth waiting for.
“What the fuck are you smirking at?” Knox asks, eyeing me as he directs two workers unloading crates from the truck. “You look like you just won the lottery or got the best blow job of your life.”
I shake my head, the smile not leaving my face. “Maybe both.”
“Bullshit. Spill it.”
“Just some good news,” I say, moving to check the manifest. “Nothing that concerns you, little brother.”
Knox snorts. “Everything in this fucking town concerns me. We're Blackwoods.”
“Yeah, well, this is personal.”
My brother studies me for a moment before realization dawns on his face. “Wait. Is this about the girl who ran off to New York?”
“Her name is Lia,” I snap, more defensively than I intended.
Knox throws his hands up. “Whoa, touched a nerve there. Jesus, Vane. It's been what, fifteen years? That's some serious dedication to holding a grudge—or whatever the fuck this is.”
I ignore him and survey the warehouse. “Is this everything? Where's the second shipment?”
“Coming tomorrow,” Knox answers, mercifully dropping the subject. “By the way, doesn't it seem weird that it's just us here? No Xavier breathing down our necks, no Landon taking fucking notes on his phone?”
I nod, the observation having already crossed my mind. “Those fuckers still don't trust us to handle a simple shipment.”
“Right?” Knox laughs. “Like we haven't been doing this shit since we were teenagers.”
“Xavier probably has cameras set up somewhere,” I mutter, scanning the ceiling corners of the warehouse.
“Or Landon's got someone reporting back to him. You know how he operates.”
I check the time on my phone. “Let's get this finished. I've got plans tonight.”
“What kind of plans?” Knox asks, his eyebrows raised with undisguised curiosity. “Hot date? Or is this more of your mysterious person bullshit?”
I run my hand through my hair, debating how much to share. “Just some things I need to check on at one of my properties. Making sure everything's ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“None of your fucking business,” I reply, but there's no real heat in my words.
Knox laughs, slapping me on the shoulder. “Whatever, man. Just make sure you're at the meeting tomorrow. Xavier will lose his shit if we're late.”
I nod, my thoughts already drifting to the penthouse. To the equipment I installed last week. To the carefully hidden cameras in the living room, bedroom, and bathroom. To the high-quality microphones that will catch every word, every sigh, every sound she makes.
“We done here?” I ask, scanning the warehouse one last time.
“Yeah, we're good. Rest is just inventory.” Knox waves me off. “Go handle your property bullshit.”
I don't need to be told twice. Within minutes, I'm outside, the cool night air hitting my face as I swing my leg over my Kawasaki. The engine roars to life beneath me as I pull on my helmet, and I feel that familiar surge of adrenaline as I pull out of the warehouse lot.
The road stretches before me, and I push the bike faster than I should, weaving through what little traffic exists at this hour. My mind races even faster than the motorcycle, imagining Lia walking through that penthouse, completely unaware that I'll be watching her every move.
Fifteen years. Fifteen fucking years of waiting, planning, building my empire alongside my brothers while keeping tabs on her from afar. And now she's coming back, right into the web I've been spinning.
The thirty-minute ride passes in a blur of streetlights and empty roads. When I finally pull into the underground parking beneath the luxury building, anticipation thrums through me like electricity.
I take the private elevator up to the penthouse, key card in hand. It's time to make sure everything is perfect for Lia's arrival.
The penthouse is silent as I move through it, methodically checking each installation.
Every camera is hidden in the light fixtures, smoke detectors, and air vents.
I pull out my phone, opening the security app I had custom-made.
One by one, the feeds populate my screen—living room, kitchen, hallway, bathroom, bedroom. Perfect views from every angle.
I tap the bedroom feed. The California king bed dominates the frame, its crisp white sheets practically glowing under the recessed lighting. I zoom in, adjusting the angle slightly for a better view.
“Perfect,” I mutter, satisfaction coursing through me.
Next, I test the audio. I walk through each room, speaking quietly, then return to my phone to check the playback. Crystal clear. Every whisper, every breath she takes will be mine to hear.
The thought of Lia here, unaware of my eyes on her, is the most satisfying thought I’ve ever had.
I move to the bedroom, running my hand over the expensive sheets I personally selected. Egyptian cotton, ridiculously high thread count. Only the best for my Lia. I picture her lying here, her dark hair spread across the pillows, her skin gliding against these sheets.
My cock hardens instantly at the thought.
I unzip my jeans and lie back on her bed, taking myself in hand. Closing my eyes, I imagine Lia here, imagine her body beneath mine again, like that night after prom. The way she'd trembled, the sounds she'd made. The way she'd surrendered to me completely.
“Fuck,” I groan, stroking faster.
In my mind, she's here already. Naked. Mine. No more running. No more hiding from what's between us.
I stroke my cock slowly at first, savoring the buildup. My hand slides up and down my shaft as memories of Lia flood my mind—the way her pussy tightened around me when I took her virginity, how her eyes rolled back when she came.
“That's right, Lia,” I growl into the empty room, my pace increasing. “You've always been mine.”
Pre-cum leaks from my tip, providing the perfect lubrication as I twist my wrist on the upstroke. I close my eyes, picturing Lia beneath me on this very bed, her legs spread wide, begging for my cock.
“You think you can run from me?”My voice echoes against the walls as my hand works faster. “Fifteen years and I still remember how your tight little cunt feels.”
My breathing grows ragged, muscles tensing as I chase my release. I imagine pinning her wrists above her head, watching her struggle against my grip before surrendering completely.
“Gonna fill you up again,” I grunt, hips bucking into my fist. “Mark you. Claim you. Make you admit you're fucking mine.”
The pressure builds at the base of my spine, my balls drawing tight. I'm close now, my hand moving in a blur as I picture Lia's face when she comes, that perfect mixture of pleasure and surrender.
“Fuck,” I groan, feeling my orgasm approaching. “Take it, Lia. Take everything I give you.”
My back arches off the bed as I explode, thick ropes of cum shooting across my hand and onto my stomach. I milk every last drop, my body shuddering with aftershocks.
When the haze clears, I look down at the mess I've made and smile. I swing my legs off the bed and head to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to wash my hands and clean myself up.
As I dry off, I catch my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are still dark with desire, my body humming with satisfaction that feels incomplete.
“Next time I'm in this apartment,” I promise my reflection, “I'll be fucking Lia into this mattress instead of just thinking about it.”
I stare at my reflection as the satisfaction fades, replaced by that familiar hunger that's never quite gone away. Fifteen years—most people would have moved on and forgotten a high school fuck. But Lia was never just another conquest.
Running my hand across the marble countertop, I imagine her standing here, unaware of my eyes watching her every move.
We've built an empire while she was gone. The foster kid she knew is long dead, replaced by a man who owns half this fucking town. Now, when I take her, it won't be on a twin mattress in a shitty apartment. It'll be in luxury, surrounded by everything money can buy.
I could have any woman in Ravenwood with a snap of my fingers, but I've spent fifteen years waiting for the only one who matters. The one who's been mine since the moment I first saw her in that chemistry class.
With one final look around the penthouse, I mentally tick off each camera, each microphone. Everything is ready. Perfect.
I grab my keys and head for the door, a smile spreading across my face. Lia thinks she's coming home to run Elliot's gallery, to build her career on her own terms. She has no fucking clue she's walking straight back to me.
And this time, I won't let her leave.