Chapter 17
Marian
Luxuries. Drayton threw that word out for everything.
No towel. No clothes. No books. No television.
Apparently, the only thing I was allowed was to be on the bed.
As if that wasn’t a luxury all on its own.
What did he know about that word? That’s all his life was.
Where I was business and hard facts, he was glamour and plastic smiles. Flashing lights and white lies.
Lies.
Yes.
So many lies.
This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be in some small cabin, captive to a man I’d spent my entire adult life mourning.
But had I thought what I could remember about that night was bad?
What he said. What I supposedly had done.
No. I couldn’t believe that. Yet, I knew he had to be telling the truth.
Fuck. Had I really said those things to his parents? Had I been so vulgar and vile?
The thought made me sick. I loved Drayton’s parents. Where mine were strict and callous, his were warm and caring. It was vinegar and honey. That’s what are families were. Mine had been sour and potent. His, sweet and healing. And I’d ruined that with my claims.
How could I have said that?
It was a stupid question. I knew how, because I knew my mother. I knew what she was capable of. She was revered in her field. Or had been. I didn’t need to know what had happened to get her killed. One of her tricks caught up with her. That’s what she used to call it in our youth. Tricks.
“It’s not that hard to get what you want, Marian.
Watch this,” Her voice had been a whisper as she tapped the top of her nail and finger against the florist’s countertop.
The rhythmic sound had the man looking up as he finished a lavender and white rose bouquet.
Almost immediately, his eyes seemed to go flat and lose some of their awareness “Mr. Colure, so nice to see you again.”
“Mrs. LaRoe. You’re a day early. You always come in on Tuesday for your office bouquet.”
“I was in the area. I thought I’d drop in and see what you had. Say, what a beautiful bouquet of flowers. How did you know they were Marian’s favorite? She told you that, didn’t she. That’s why you made these for my office. Because of my daughter. Right?”
Tap. Tap.
A pause on his end.
“Why…. yes. I… Marian told me. Yes… she said they were her favorite. How could I forget? Of course. These are yours. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“No worries at all. Happens to the best of us. I’m always forgetting things. Great. Such amazing timing. I love them. You did a fantastic job. Just bill me like always. I’ll take these now.”
Simple. Common. Snake.
My mother used her “gift” at every opportunity.
Always the manipulation. It was so easy for her to twist peoples’ minds who she commonly associated with.
They’d always comply with her needs. She had men eating out of the palm of her hand.
She had women bowing at her feet. It was a lie.
It was all lies. She was a master of persuasion.
Of hypnosis. Mind-bending. Those terms didn’t begin to grasp what my mother was capable of.
No one was safe if they got too close to her or they were triggered by sounds like the tapping.
It was the reason the FBI put her on a pedestal.
Some, like me, were spared because they were somehow immune to her coaxing, but that wasn’t many people.
She was dangerous, and the effects of what she did sometimes came with consequences.
But I was dangerous too. I knew how her gift worked, but I also knew things could go horribly wrong if I wasn’t careful.
So many times, she’d tried to teach me her ways.
I watched, but I wasn’t interested in being like her.
That didn’t stop her from trying. It also didn’t stop me from learning.
I studied her every holiday, every summer, every visit where I found myself home.
I’d even tested my skills at one point. Not that I felt good about using them, but I could do it.
The act took time. It took training to get an individual locked into certain trigger words.
And that’s what it was for us. Triggers.
But it went deeper than that for her. She had the ability to activate people through phrases.
Through looks or sounds or touch. Or… tapping.
I wasn’t that good. I hadn’t made that my life like she had.
From a young age my mother discovered her gifts.
With my grandfather being an award-winning psychiatrist, she’d grown up secretly watching his sessions with clients.
And maybe he had known that because he took her in.
He let her embrace that part of his life.
By her teen years, she helped him influence and destroy his enemies.
By the time my mother graduated college, she was a prodigy in the world of psychology.
She was a goddess and worshipped by not just those she put under her spell, but by the FBI for their deviant means.
By corporations that she made rich. And now she was gone.
Dead because of the same skills she used to get there.
Fate.
Perhaps this was meant to be. Maybe being owned by Drayton was karma’s way of balancing itself out for the damage we’d done.
I wasn’t sure, but I knew one thing. I couldn’t run.
Our circle had its own justice system. Its own enforcers.
To run was to die, and I wanted to live.
But now that I was Drayton’s revenge, it was more than that.
I wanted the fight. I wanted to scream and tell them all they wouldn’t win.
If I was going to be owned, I wanted it to be on my terms. In my favor.
I wasn’t my mother. It was going to take time for me to get Drayton under my thumb, but I could do it.
I did with my old secretary. And this was more than an audible cue for coffee, but I could do it again.
I could twist this around. This time, it was for survival, not curiosity. I didn’t have a choice.
I took in the ceiling as I stared up, letting a deep breath leave me as I rolled onto my side.
Drayton was sitting in the chair, staring down at his phone.
His eyes lifted, raking down my body before he seemed to catch himself.
I pretended not to notice as I rolled over to grab the water.
I went back to my side, unscrewing the lid as I took a drink.
Owned.
I had to think.
I was owned.
For seconds I didn’t move. What did Drayton want the most? What would help me, by helping him? Think.
I sat up, taking a drink of water, drawing my knees up as I lost myself in calculations.
Something. Think. What did Drayton want?
That was easy. At the moment, he wanted Bastian. To what? To kill? What for? Because he’d been engaged to me? It couldn’t be just that. Drayton may have saved me out of his sick need for revenge, but it wasn’t because—not true—
My thoughts cut off. When he’d first taken me, he had said he’d kill them all.
He wanted to know the name of the man who assaulted me.
He wanted Bastian. He wanted to end both of their lives.
It couldn’t be just for revenge against me.
I wouldn’t protect a predator. It had to be revenge for me.
For us? There was only one way to find out.
And not just with words. Everything I said was a test. Every action I made would mold my future.
My future was Drayton whether I wanted it or not.
I wasn’t a fool. I knew how our world worked.
What I got out of the rest of my life was up to Drayton.
But also… me. My actions had to be smooth.
Flawless. They had to be in favor of Drayton, or he was right, I’d have no future.
I let my gaze cut over to where he kept staring down at his phone.
He was wearing jeans now without a shirt.
His body. His serious eyes. God, he was gorgeous.
And he still loved me. On some level, in some sick way, what we had was still there.
Which meant… I had leverage. I had something.
I knew the art of negotiation. Of getting my way.
But more than that, I had special training.
I knew how to get answers, and that didn’t start with questions.
No. The trick was elicitation. I provided conversation, not questions, and Drayton would supply all the answers I needed without even realizing it.
But that would come with time. Right now, he had to see I was trustworthy or at least on his side.
I had to be smart. Very, very smart about this.
My anger would get me in trouble, but that was believable and important to a point.
Think. I’d stay on his side but still try to be true to myself while testing how much pull I had.
Seduction. It could backfire, but that was a price I had to take.
I swallowed hard, turning to put down the bottle.
“Did you have my bags retrieved from my hotel room?”
I kept my voice smooth and soft like my mother would do. Drayton seemed to dismiss my question almost instantly as he went back to his phone which was a good sign. I wasn’t overplaying it.
“I’m owned now,” I continued. “Neither of us may want this, but I see there’s no way out of it. I think it’s only fair that I call Bastian so I can return their heirloom engagement ring. In person.”
Drayton’s head rose, and I saw his eyes widen as realization sunk in, but I kept going.
“It’s been in his family for generations. Bastian wouldn’t dare leave it behind. I mean, it’s probably the only reason he’s still here. He knows I brought it with me. I bring it everywhere in case—”
“Stop.”
Drayton was already bringing the phone to his ear. I held in my smile, easing to the side of the bed to let my legs dangle over. I was sitting straight. My shoulders were back. Breasts… even now he was taking peeks at them.