Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Freedom Mansion
Eden
“Coach is trading my twin like property,” I hiss. “He promised that we wouldn’t be parted. We left our country for the first time in our life and came to America, signing with the Bay Rebels because they agreed to put it into the contract that we could stay together.”
Of course, coach would do this.
The man who broke his own son and hid the worst of his abuse from his daughter.
The man who groomed his players.
The man whose obsession with power and legacy is driving him to destroy his team.
I am killing him. Fuck the therapy.
It’s Monday morning, and my mind should be on my PA job this morning. It’s two minutes after nine. I’m officially late.
I officially don’t care.
I stalk after D’Angelo down the wide corridor.
This is part of the mansion that D’Angelo renovated by himself and wouldn’t let me enter. Maybe he wanted to create a private man cave, which holds a geeky side to him that I haven’t discovered yet.
Warhammer or Pokemon.
D’Angelo likes to act mysterious and shit. Robyn says that gives him the Lucifer pretending to be Bond vibe.
I think it’s more of a villain vibe. I bet that D’Angelo has created a lair for himself.
After breakfast, he told me to follow him because he had a surprise to show me.
I fucking hate surprises.
I stick my hands into the pockets of my thick hoodie against the bite of the cold.
My fingers are numb like my mind has been ever since Shay broke apart in my arms when I returned yesterday from Cody’s cottage.
I knew the moment I saw Shay that something had happened, from which he may not recover.
When our gazes met, I sucked in my breath at the look in his gray eyes.
I’d seen it before.
I’d shoved the blackberry cake into the fridge and opened my arms in silent invitation.
Shay had dived into my arms, hugging me tightly like it would be the last time.
D’Angelo glances over his shoulder at me. He’s dressed in a sleek pinstriped suit, but his hair is mussed, which is unusual. There are purple shadows underneath his eyes.
He looks exhausted.
Something twists in my stomach.
“It’s out of coach’s hands,” D’Angelo replies. “Charles is trying to hurt me through the man I love. Obsessional love is like that. If you can’t possess someone, then you destroy them through the people who are closest to them. If we openly go against this, then Charles will target Robyn.”
“It will destroy Shay.” I clench my jaw. “It will destroy all of us.”
D’Angelo pauses, turning to face me. “Would you leave with him?”
“He’s not leaving.”
“Good to know that you have faith in me.” D’Angelo cards his fingers through his thick hair, trying to smooth it.
“Charle’s bet is that I need to win four out of six of my next games.
He has made a dangerous promise to his own brutal dad that we will make the playoffs.
If we fail, he’ll suffer consequences too.
So, you’re right. I’ll lead the team to do that, then Shay won’t go anywhere and Charles won’t be a problem again.
Do you think that I’ll allow Wilder near Robyn again?
Back into my team? I already called a meeting yesterday with the rest of the team and staff, telling them what the stakes were.
Everyone is behind pulling together and saving Shay. He’s part of the Bay Rebels family.”
The tension seeps from my shoulders. “I trust you.”
“Trust your brother. He’s our top scorer. He can do this.”
My brother is brilliant. A prodigy on the ice. A star.
All I have ever wanted is for the rest of the world to see him shine like I always have.
But not like this.
D’Angelo turns away and swaggers down the corridor again. “Come on, I’m not paying you to stand around chatting.”
Shit, he’s noticed the time.
“I’ve already made you lunch. The bread was freshly baked this morning.” I follow him. “Your schedule is prepared for the week and pinned in the kitchen on the fridge. Plus, I’ve arranged to pick up your dry cleaning after lunch.”
“Your boss must be a real hardass. Clearly, I’m actually not paying you enough.” D’Angelo chuckles. “Remind me later to increase your salary at the end of the month.”
“I’m only doing what I should. But why are you rewarding me and punishing Shay?”
D’Angelo stumbles. Then he stops in front of a high, mahogany door.
I stare at his broad back, as he rests his hand on the door for a long moment.
Why is he breathing so hard?
Then he turns back to me.
“Is that what you think?” D’Angelo’s gaze is serious.
He scans my face.
I scrunch up my nose. “You made him go running this morning after he broke the vase.”
“Broke it by playing American football inside,” D’Angelo drawls. “Anyway, Robyn went with him. Doesn’t that make it a reward?”
My eyes flash. “The vase was ugly.”
“Thanks for the interior design input. It also cost over fifty thousand dollars.”
I pale.
Shit.
Thanks, Shay.
“I’ll pay for it. We can work out some kind of payment plan, right?” I tilt up my chin. “Lucky that you’re giving me a raise.”
D’Angelo barks a laugh. “I don’t give a fuck about the vase. It was rather ugly. I sent Shay on the run because it’s his favorite exercise, which helps him get out his energy without smashing up my shit.”
“He’s upset, and you’re punishing him,” I burst out.
I know that I’m not explaining it right, but the words won’t sort themselves out properly.
The specter of what Cody told me about his dad and memories of how Blythe used to treat Shay are mixed up in my mind.
I can’t miss the warning signs again. “You hugged Robyn all night because she’s scared about Wilder.
When my brother tossed and turned, however, you made him kneel on the hard floor by the bed. ”
D'Angelo marches to me, grabbing me by the elbow. “I would never discipline anyone for not being able to sleep, especially after the shock my cucciolo suffered yesterday. I understand that insomnia is an issue for him. Your brother didn’t need a hug, however, unlike our Robyn. Kneeling was what worked best to settle his mind and drop him into subspace. I know now that you were watching. So, didn’t you notice how his shoulders relaxed and his breathing evened? ”
Slowly, I nod.
D’Angelo gives me a long look. “Keeping an eye out for cues like that will be a key part of the dom training that I give you. It’s about empathy and understanding how the sub is feeling.
Then you can meet their needs. You have a natural, intuitive instinct for this, apart from when you become overprotective of your brother.
I understand. You’ve witnessed a lot of situations where submission was forced.
I create a space, however, which feels safe enough for Shay to be physically and emotionally vulnerable.
It takes strength of character for him to offer that willingly to me. I wish he could see that more.”
My expression lightens. “You knew that he would fall asleep after he’d knelt.”
D’Angelo smirks. “Now you’re learning, my young Padawan.”
Maybe he has Star Wars figures in his man cave.
“You were helping him.”
“Sometimes, my cucciolo only accepts help when it looks like harshness.”
“Have you also tried to help him with gentleness? Like you do Robyn?”
D’Angelo looks taken aback.
He coughs. “Well, the apprentice has become the master. I’ll give it a go. Now, the surprise.”
He gives a wide grin, twirling on his foot to the door with a flourish.
Then he shoves the door wide open.
I stiffen.
If anybody jumps out from behind furniture and yells surprise at me, then I’m handing them their arses.
Cautiously, I follow D’Angelo into the mystery room.
I glance around myself in shock.
It’s a vast study with walls that have been painted deep green. The floors are oak.
Sunlight streams through the wide window out over the rose garden behind the mansion.
And all my equipment and furniture that I loved from the study in Captain’s Hall have been brought across town and installed here.
I thought that I had lost them.
In fact, the study is a replica of the one in Captain’s Hall.
A surge of happiness that I’m not used to surges through me.
My eyes sting.
I wander in silence, overcome, to the heavy, rich mahogany desk. I run my hand over its smooth surface.
D’Angelo is watching me with a small smile.
The desk was D’Angelo’s official gift to me for starting as his PA.
No other boss has bought me a gift.
No other boss has decorated a room for me or bothered to understand that I would function better with the same equipment.
Without change.
Maybe I do like some surprises.
I scan my computer, iPad, and phone on the desk, which D’Angelo also ordered for me, then my favorite pile of moleskin notepads and professional color-coded document organizer, which I dreamed about owning in college.
I still can’t believe that D’Angelo allows me to order as much stationary as I like.
The best thing of all is that the desk is pushed up against Robyn’s chaotic desk. Hers is pine and cluttered with papers, empty wine glasses, and a dozen phones.
D’Angelo strolls to the lime couch, which rests against the back wall, beneath photographs of the hockey team with D’Angelo at the center and Shay smiling next to him.
Underneath are the staff, including Robyn, Cody, and me.
“I have a fully equipped gym as well just further down the corridor. Code helped me to make sure that I installed the right equipment for your physio.” He throws himself down onto the couch. “Did I get this room right?”
He installed a gym for me too…?
No one has done anything like this for me before.
Is D’Angelo truly more than my boss? More than my lover’s boyfriend?
A true brother?
I walk to the ranks of filing cabinets, glancing at the bulletin board and black board that hangs above it. I’ll need to put D’Angelo’s schedule up for the next week.
My throat is thick. “Perfect. You’re the best boss.”
D’Angelo preens.
“Except,” my lips twitch, “there is one thing missing from the bulletin board. Where is Robyn’s daily inspirational quote?”
D’Angelo groans, sprawling out more dramatically.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I have one for you: Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, and today a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.”
“God save me.” D’Angelo looks at me, pained. “Sadist.”
“Accurate, according to the BDSM test that we took.” I quirk my pierced brow. “And is the other room still there?”
D’Angelo looks confused. “I do have rather a lot of rooms in this place.”
“The one where I saved you from Heine? In the basement? The playroom?”
D’Angelo’s breath quickens on each word. His expression becomes shuttered.
He wants me to notice these cues.
I have.
Carefully, I walk toward D’Angelo, perching next to him on the couch.
“Breathe.” I rest my hand on his shoulder. He takes a shaky breath. “Slower.”
He clenches his hands, making an effort to follow my directions and take slower breaths.
I study his pinched expression.
I triggered him. But the room is part of this mansion. He could wall it up or keep it locked.
Yet it would still always be there. The memory would still be in his mind.
If he wants this to be our home, then he can’t let Heine taint it.
Heine is ruining enough else.
“I haven’t been able to go back in there yet,” D’Angelo admits, quietly.
“It has always been my favorite place in the mansion. I designed it with some friends. It was where I could be most myself. Charles turned that on its head, however, when he broke my hard limits. You know what I said about forced submission? I’m dominant and I need to be in control.
Losing it like that made me feel powerless and degraded like all the times in the Discipline School when I was humiliated, hurt, and unable to escape. ”
“Then we take back your control.” I cross my arms. “Heine won’t steal your favorite room from you.”
D’Angelo taps his foot in rhythms of three. “How?”
“We paint it together. Clean the equipment. Make it belong to you again. I’ll be with you.”
D’Angelo sits up, sharply.
His expression brightens. “Have I told you today yet that you’re my favorite PA?”
“I’m you’re only PA.”
“Details.” He waves his hand, lazily. “We’ll turn it into a new room, one for both you and me. A playroom that Charles never touched. It will belong to us. And we’re throwing out that whip.”
I nod. “Show me how to use the equipment on Robyn.”
D’Angelo’s expression becomes wicked. “Won’t we have a fun surprise for our poor, unsuspecting pets?”
The thought of Robyn bound in silk ropes, suspended naked and spread in panted desire, makes my cock harden.
D’Angelo’s pupils are already dilated.
Suddenly, the study door bursts open and Shay and Robyn tumble through.
“Oh, look,” D’Angelo purrs, giving them a heated look, “they’re already eager.”
“We’ve been searching for you everywhere,” Robyn complains.
Concern blooms through me.
Robyn is a mess.
Her hair is tangled over her sweaty face. She is holding her side like she has a stitch. She is wearing matching black joggers and t-shirt to my brother.
To my surprise, Shay appears equally out of breath. Also, distracted with fear.
“I’m putting a tracker on both of you.” Shay points at D’Angelo and me. “This place is too bloody big.”
“Why didn’t you call us?” D’Angelo asks.
Dread churns in my guts.
Shay looks in a worse state than when he set off for his run. It should have calmed him.
Why didn’t it?
“We didn’t take our phones,” Shay admits. “It was all a bloody scramble, if you remember, to change and—”
D’Angelo’s mouth sets in a grim line. “New rule: everyone has their phone on them at all times. There is too much danger around this far into the season, along with Charles playing games again. Plus, the security team aren’t happy about the message in the Valentine’s card as it is.
We’ll install the tracker function, then even if we don’t answer, we’ll be able to find each other. ”
“Stalker red flags. Still, good idea. Especially after what just happened to us.” Robyn’s troubled gaze meets mine.
Shay’s arm winds around her shoulder. I shove myself off the couch, vibrating with worry.
“We were jogging the boundary of the estate, well, I was crawling it, and this annoyingly fit asshole was sprinting it. Then when we reached the gates, a delivery van pulled up. They insisted that they had to leave the flowers there, despite what security told them.”
“Flowers? More Valentine’s bouquets?” D’Angelo rolls his eyes. “The downside of being this handsome.”
“Not bouquets,” Robyn whispers. “Hundreds of funeral wreathes made out of dead roses.”