Chapter 4
CALISTA
I got tired of waiting for a prince to save me.
Pitiful, really, thinking there was ever a chance a man could live up to my expectations. Pathetic to hope that a knight in shining armour would ride into town on his white stallion, sword and eyes blazing as he fights to find a way to rescue me.
As if a man would have been strong enough to save me from this hellhole.
No, I learned quickly my prince was either too drunk or too lazy to show up on his steed. Men bring nothing but disappointment and the occasional orgasm, so I transferred my time and energy to more productive studies.
Martial arts. Engines. Seeking retribution.
There’s only so much time in a day, and with booming investments thanks to my new side business, I find myself occupied from sunup to sundown.
Drug dealing isn’t the most glamourous hobby for a girl to have, but it keeps the soles of my heels red and there is nothing I love more than a pair of Louboutin’s.
My darling boy waits patiently by my bedroom door. Wearing a sleek black coat and shoes the colour of rich coffee, Ronan looks nothing like the damaged beast I brought home all those years ago.
“There you are.” Cooing the words, I watch my favourite boy thump his tail against the ground. His diamond collar glitters against his dark fur, the sparkly addition perfect for my baby’s muscular neck.
All big and shiny, Ronan’s size is impressive even for a Doberman. Coming up to my hip, his snout could easily reach my chin if he stood on his hindlegs.
“I missed you, baby.” Letting out a soft whistle, I signal the command for him to leave his position by the door. His big black body bounds over to me, the excitement in his dark eyes making me smile.
He’s everything that a girl could want. Attentive, loyal, obedient and spends his time trying to please me.
Forget the prince. I’ll take the dog.
“Did you miss me too?” A tongue meets my cheek and I laugh, “Oh, I know you did. Come on, mama brought you back a special treat.”
Ronan trots happily beside me as we enter my bedroom. A chandelier hangs from the vaulted ceiling, the glass shards sparkling off the black onyx floors. Long black drapes cover the floor-to-ceiling windows, the majestic frames sized to display Wolf Hollow in its entirety.
It’s an emotionless room, all mirrors and silver dripping with wealth and privilege that fails to be appreciated the way it deserves. My reflection shimmers as I walk past, my bloodied clothes falling to the floor as I head for the bathroom.
A dash of salt and preppy boy’s tongue gets laid to rest in Ronan’s bowl. He waits patiently for my signal, then gobbles down the piece of human flesh as easily as I ate my protein bar this morning.
My baby and I have a knack for finishing off terrible men.
The hot water melts the forest and lingering flesh off my body, the ends of my hair nearly stained pink. I scrub thoroughly, feeling fatigue for the first time tonight.
Three dead bodies. Only two by my hand.
Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead against the glass and let the steam fill my lungs. Humidity envelopes me, but not even the scorching water can chase away the chill lingering inside.
I don’t know if the other woman made it. She was still crying by the time I left, the body of her sister floating peacefully down the creek.
Death is an act of mercy. A gift to be bestowed to those who deserve it.
The only gift I could give her was a resting place that hadn’t witnessed the final moments of her disgrace.
“I wish you had been there. You could have chased down the old man for me.”
Ronan cocks his head, his ears perked towards the muffled sound of my voice. It's been years since I found him in the forbidden forest, abandoned and abused, but he's been my closest friend ever since.
As sad as that is.
“Are you still talking to that dog?”
The exasperated question has a grin spreading across my face. Turning off the stream of water, I exit the shower and head towards the Arabian princess mocking me from her throne.
“Ronan doesn’t bite back like you do.”
Coming to a stop at the foot of my bed, I tilt my head and admire the miles of brown skin spread across my queen-sized mattress.
A ruby glitters from her belly button piercing, the gems decorating her body a tease for the chocolate-coloured nipples and dusty pink lips that rarely curve into a genuine smile.
“Are you calling me a bitch?” Her tone is sharp, borderline threatening.
I grin, climbing onto the bed and pressing my newly showered body against hers, “Yes. But a really pretty one.”
A beat passes before the ice princess melts in my arms. Letting out a snort, Tahira Malik arches her back and presses her full breasts into my palms.
“If I’m being a bitch, it’s because somebody kept me up all night.”
“Sorry not sorry.” Pressing my lips to her neck, I breathe in her sweet scent with a hum, “You should always stay until morning. I like having a bitch in my bed.”
“My plane was supposed to leave three hours ago.” Casting a glance at the clock on my nightstand, she lets out a sigh, “Father will be displeased. He hates it when I’m late.”
“Isn’t that the perk of having a private jet? It leaves when you leave.”
“Ah yes, but the great Jaafar Malik waits for no one.” Bitterness and a hint of anger seeps through her voice, “Especially not his only daughter.”
“Legitimate daughter.” I remind her with a smirk, my nails scraping the underside of her breast, “Daddy’s got more kids than he knows what to do with.”
The multi-billionaire oil tycoon is well-known for his seedlings around the world. Illegitimate under the eyes of the law, any child born out of wedlock doesn’t get a drop of inheritance from the man spawning them.
Cruel, perhaps, that these single mothers have to fend for their young, but from what I’ve seen of the Malik fortress, those children and mothers got off easy.
Being held under the tycoon’s thumb is no easy feat.
I don’t comment on the bloodshot state of Tahira’s irises. The dark skin under her eyes that seems to get worse with each passing day.
As her friend and part-time lover, it’s not my job to take care of her. Our relationship is comfortable but surface level, one that comes without strings or attachments.
Tahira Malik lost her heart a long time ago, and I…
Well, I’ve never had a heart to give.
“It’s a shame some of those kids can’t take my place.” Her lips curl in disgust, “A prize to be sold for the highest bidder. I’m no better than a cow being put up for auction.”
“You do have great tits.” Fiddling with said tits, I play with her nipples until they’re puckered and begging for my attention, “I would happily spend a fortune on them.”
She ignores me, “The preparations for the marriage trials have begun. Do you know how humiliating it is to sit for a picture that will be sent to the richest men around the world? They have me posing like a fucking playboy bunny.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Lowering my head, I suck her nipple gently, “Is there anything I can do?”
“Compete for me.”
“Tahira-
“Enter as my suitor. Win for me.” Bejewelled fingers grab my chin, forcing my gaze back to her face, “Please, Calista. You’re the only one strong enough to beat the competition.”
By competition, she means men.
The eleven men her father has chosen to compete as her suitors.
“You can’t waste your one choice on me.”
“I can. I want to.” A fire lights up Tahira’s eyes, the blistering sight washing away the desperation, “I want you to compete as my suitor. Kill them all if you have to, just don’t let me end up as a prize on somebody else’s arm.”
“The entry fee is ten million dollars.”
“I’ll give you the money.”
A soft laugh escapes me, “You know I can’t compete. Marriage isn’t for me, and even if it was, I would not stand to be locked away in a palace somewhere.”
“We could arrange to have two houses, one here and one out-
“Tahira.” Silencing her with my lips, I kiss the ridiculous thought out of her head, “The answer is no. Leave it alone.”
She kisses me back, the silky texture of her tongue mingling with mine. I rake my nails through her thick luscious hair, the strands so dark and pretty I almost take back my words and offer to compete.
I fucking love dark hair.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Sighing against my lips, Tahira slips her hand between my legs and strums my clit, “I need you.”
“You need a champion. Someone willing to fight for you.” Pushing her back down on the mattress, I straddle her hips with a grin, “I’m good at killing, not fighting.”
“Same thing.”
It’s not and we both know it.
“Whoever you choose, I will help them.” The promise slips from my lips, “I will protect your suitor from the outside. But once the trials begin…”
“I know.” A frown wrinkles Tahira’s beautiful face, “There’ll be nothing you can do once the challenges start. It’s a fucking shitshow of the highest order.”
Silence passes between us.
“You could ask-
“No.”
“And I’m the stubborn one?”
Her eyes narrow into slits, “That option is not on the table.”
I tilt my head, studying the woman beneath me, “Wasn’t the execution date pushed back? For the tenth time?”
“Sixth.” Gritting her teeth, Tahira looks away, “It was pushed back for the sixth time. There was a complication with one of the prison guards.”
“Uh huh.”
A scowl pinches her dark brows together, the unflattering expression no match for the flawless symmetry of the heiress’ face.
I trace the edge of her clenched jaw softly, nicking the flesh with the tip of my fingernail.
“Don’t throw away a viable option just because of messy emotions.” Bending down, I lick the flushed piece of skin, “It’s been seven years. Maybe it’s time to move on.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing? Helping me move on?”
“No. I’ve been enjoying this pretty pussy and you’ve been enjoying the distraction.”
A purr escapes my throat when I find the world’s most eligible heiress wet for me, “We’ve been living in the present, baby, but one day you’re going to have to look towards the future.”
“And you?” Tahira gives me a knowing look, her legs spreading on their own accord, “When will it be time for you to look towards the future?”
“When I don’t have a gorgeous woman in my bed.” Smearing cum from her slit to the outside of her thighs, I dodge the question with a grin, “Now, are you going to be a good girl and turn over for me?”
Heat flares in those dark eyes, and our conversation ceases once Tahira’s head is buried in a pillow and I’m eating her out from behind.
It’s my favourite kind of messy, the sweet taste of Tahira’s pussy keeping me tethered to the present for just a little while longer.
Anything to keep me from thinking about the future.