Chapter 8 Liam
LIAM
“Ithink that went well.” Settling back in my seat, I release the sigh a man releases when he’s got everything he wants. It all went exactly as I planned, right down to a show of force if necessary. These are proud men. They won’t all back down as easily as some lawyer.
Aurora says nothing. It seems like she’s decided silence is the way to go.
I don’t like that. Tonight of all nights. Why can’t she play along? I’m not asking for enthusiasm. No, I’m hoping for the opposite. I didn’t know until now how I crave her dread and fear. And how irritating it is when she leaves me hanging.
“So what did you think about dinner?” I nudge her with my foot until she turns her face away from the window she’s been staring out of. “Isn’t this what husbands and wives are supposed to do after a dinner or a party? They get in the car and rehash everything, right?”
“I wouldn’t know.” She sounds weary. Unaffected. That can’t be true. Again, I know what she grew up around. For all I know, Donovan committed executions on the regular in that mansion of his. Murder could be as familiar to her as the back of her hand.
She’s an interesting person. I imagine someone as sheltered as she’s been would break down easily.
Blackwell guarded her the way a dragon guards its gold—jealously, hovering, protective to the point of obsession.
Mine. But so far, there have been no tears.
No breakdowns. She watched me murder a man in cold blood and hardly reacted—just like she didn’t react to him demanding a night with her.
Is she that disconnected? Still in shock?
Or is she like a weed growing through a crack in the sidewalk, stronger because she’s had to take care of herself?
“Tell me something.” I angle my body toward her, watching her intently. “What would you have done if I said yes to that asshole back there? If I let him have you for the night?”
Either she doesn’t plan on answering, or she’s thinking it over. She leaves me hanging for a while before she shrugs, still pressed up against the corner of the seat. Is it defiance or fear? “I would have grabbed a knife off the table.”
“Is that so?” I can’t help but chuckle. She’s so confident. “And then what?”
Slowly her head turns until she’s looking at me. We pass a cluster of cars waiting at a red light, and the glow of their headlights makes her eyes gleam and flash when they meet mine. “Why don’t you ask the guard who tried to rape me? Oh wait, you can’t, because he is dead.”
“So you mentioned,” I say, keeping my voice even, though her bringing it up again bothers me.
I knew Donovan was a piece of work, but how could he not even protect his own daughter, and how did I never realize how badly he treated her during all my recon. I guess I didn’t care to look. I wanted her to be like her father. I wanted to hate her.
Aurora goes back to staring out the window. Without looking at me, she says, “I don’t know why you didn’t let him have me, but thank you either way.”
Something about her words and the way she says them makes heat uncoil low in my belly. Like a snake who senses its prey nearby. My throat is too tight for a response, so I don’t give her one.
We remain silent the rest of the way back to the penthouse, but the mood in the car is calmer than before.
I keep glancing over at her, wondering what she is thinking about.
I notice she looks a little more relaxed than normal; her hands are loosely placed on her lap instead of white-knuckling something, her shoulders are less tense, and her head is tipped back against the seat.
Is she starting to let her walls down? Maybe even trusting me a bit? It certainly seems that way.
For some reason, I like that idea, which I really shouldn’t, since I know damn well I’m going to betray her trust.
I shove that inkling of guilt I sense away before it can fully take hold of me. Every single thing has gone the way I planned. There’s nothing to do now but celebrate. At least that’s what I keep telling myself until we get back to the penthouse.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who feels that way.
“It’s about time!” Ethan greets us as we step out of the elevator.
Judging by his bloodshot eyes and the slight slur in his voice, he is deep into a bottle of champagne.
He lifts a flute to his mouth and takes a deep gulp before grinning. “The party is waiting.”
He turns and heads toward the living room, where the rest of my team is waiting for me. Aurora stiffens beside me. I can only imagine what’s going through her head. I’m sure where she’s standing, there’s nothing to celebrate.
“Give me a minute,” I tell him before directing my wife to the bedroom. Tonight, we celebrate the culmination of more than a decade of work. First, I have to make sure my bride is secured.
“Don’t let me keep you,” she mutters as we enter the room, where she turns on her heels and faces me with arms folded. “You have so much to party over, right?”
As if she wasn’t raised on tainted money.
All of the luxury she’s known all her life was born from pain and betrayal, and death.
Yet she acts like she has the moral high ground.
“You can stay unshackled,” I decide. “For now. Don’t make me regret it, Aurora.
” Her mouth pulls into a thin line of disapproval.
Before I close the door, I look her up and down, memorizing the way she looks in her dress. How it hugs her ripe body. The way it hints at the treasure underneath but covers enough to make a man’s mouth water. Before my dick changes my mind for me, I pull the door shut, lock it, and walk away.
The celebration is already well underway by the time I reach my living room, where upbeat music is playing and laughter floats out into the hall. “There he is!” Selina holds up a bottle of champagne at my entrance. She’s beaming from ear to ear. “Our leader. Our mastermind.”
“How does it feel?” Nick hands me a bottle, which I gladly uncork. Unlike Ethan and me, Nick never lost family at the hands of Blackwell, but he did lose someone he cared about: my sister. They were pretty serious about each other before her young life was snuffed out along with my parents.
“Honestly? Pretty fucking sweet.” The four of us raise our bottles and glasses, laughing, touching them with a soft clink before drinking deep. The sugary liquid goes down smooth, icy cold. It tastes like victory.
“I hope he suffered to his last breath,” Selina mutters before drinking again, then flopping down on the couch positioned in front of the fireplace.
In her skin-tight black clothes, she could be a cat burglar taking a short break.
Running a hand through her black hair, she snickers.
“Not that he breathed very long with all that smoke in the air.”
“I hope he had enough time to think about the lives he destroyed.” There’s something dark and intense about Ethan.
He’s not in the same jovial mood as the rest of us are.
We might call him Pretty Boy, thanks to those all-American good looks, but there’s been a lot of ugliness in his past—a lot of which he’ll never talk about.
“He has all of eternity to think back on that,” I remind them, then wave my arms over my head. “Enough about that fucker. Let’s talk about the spoils.”
“Let me guess. Those weak fucks rolled over as soon as they knew you meant business,” Nick declares, and a cheer rises up when I nod my confirmation.
“Of course they did.” When I drop into one of the armchairs, Selina gets up and rounds the chair to take hold of my shoulders. “Once they figured out who they were dealing with, they didn’t have a choice. I wish I could’ve been there.”
I nod, not feeling like talking about this anymore.
I really don’t feel like talking at all, to be honest. I turn up the music using the remote while Selina massages my muscles.
Something about the gesture sets my teeth on edge and makes me gently shake her off.
I’ve never been a fan of having my personal space invaded without permission.
“I bet every single one of them pissed their chairs,” Ethan yells over the music, before draining what’s left of his bottle.
Selina leans in close to my ear. I smell the alcohol on her breath when she murmurs, “I bet the little princess did, too.”
“You’d be surprised,” I reply before downing more of the sweet champagne.
Just the opposite was true. She handled it like a veteran.
Unflinching, unblinking. I would’ve expected her to shriek or weep or at least shake.
She would be easier to understand if she had.
Instead, I can’t help but wonder about her.
What will it take to break her down? I have a lot on my plate now, what with the empire I’m now running, but a man can take time for hobbies, can’t he?
Aurora might be just that. At least until her time with me is up.
Selina goes back to her chair after grabbing a second bottle. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Being on the other side of everything? No matter how many times you work it out, step-by-step, going through it in your head…”
“There’s nothing like reality,” Nick murmurs, nodding slowly. “It was almost too easy.”
“Easy?” I ask with a laugh. “I don’t know about that. I think nothing is ever going to be easy. Not even now. I still have a wife to worry about for the next two months.”
Selina rolls her dark eyes, scoffing. “Please. She’s not worth worrying about. Just an empty-headed princess.”
I take a swig from my bottle to keep my thoughts silent. That’s easy for her to say. I can’t keep the girl out of my head even now, when the champagne ought to make everything warm and fuzzy and good. I can’t help wondering what she’s thinking, locked away like she has been her entire life.
The three of them don’t seem to notice my silence while they continue drinking, laughing, rehashing every detail of last night’s ambush.
All I can do is recall the softness of Aurora’s skin under my hand.
The way she fell apart so beautifully when she came in front of me.
What I wouldn’t give to make her do that on my tongue… and my cock.
Fuck, I need to stop thinking about her.
Nick walks up to stand next to me. One look in his face, and I know he can tell I’m distracted. He knows me better than anyone, of course.
“You good?” Is all he asks, knowing I won’t talk about anything right now anyway.
“Yeah. All good,” I confirm.
“We’ll talk later,” he says before he sits back down on the couch.
I stay for a while, even though I would rather be somewhere else right now.
When I stretch and yawn, it catches Selina’s attention.
“What’s the matter with you?” She laughs, slurring a little before perching on the armrest on my chair.
Crossing her legs, she swings her foot to the music. “Don’t tell me you’re all worn out.”
“Now that you mention it, it’s been a long couple of days.” Standing, I finish off the rest of my bottle before placing it on the table. “And I have a hell of a lot of work to get started in the morning.”
“Come on. We all know what you’re really thinking about.” Nick elbows Ethan, and the two of them share a laugh before good-naturedly getting their shit together so they can go.
Selina doesn’t look so good-natured. “This was supposed to be a party.”
“We partied. But I’m a little beyond the point of staying up until dawn, you know?” When she scowls, I add, “Besides, I have to check on the little woman.”
“What?” There’s confusion written across her face while her eyes search mine. “What do you mean, you have to check on her? She’s fine. She’s safe and sound. Why would you let her get in the way of this?”
“She could still hurt herself to make a point. Or worse.” Would she? I don’t know.
“That’s not your problem.” She scoffs, tipping her head to the side, folding her arms. I’ve known her long enough to know she’s getting good and pissed. “You don’t even need her anymore, Liam.”
“You know I do. The contract with Gabriel Russo is already signed, and he expects me to hand her over when the time comes. Besides, it would be very suspicious if Donovan Blackwell’s daughter happened to die the day after he did—and the day after we signed the marriage license, and I took control of her father’s accounts,” I add.
Her face falls and some of her attitude drains away because she knows I’m right.
She juts her chin and rolls her eyes, though, because she can’t admit it. Stubbornness is a trait we share. “So long as that’s all it is,” she grumbles, getting to her feet after holding my gaze for a beat.
I can only shake my head, disappointed in her. “I’m sorry you were expecting more out of tonight, but I need to turn in—I need to have a semi-clear head when I wake up.”
“Come on,” Ethan coaxes, slinging an arm around her shoulders and steering her out of the room. “We’ll see if we can get into a little trouble elsewhere.”
The way I’m feeling, imagining my wife lying in bed, waiting for me… I might be in the mood to get into a little trouble myself.