Chapter 16 #2
"Yet here I am. You don’t get to tell me where I can and cannot be." Her response was clipped, but beneath the surface, I detected a note of satisfaction. She relished the control she held over the room, over me.
With each man that brushed past her, a silent snarl curled behind my teeth. They viewed her as another conquest, unaware of the fierce intellect and cunning that lay beneath her exterior. It was a dangerous mistake—one they would do well to recognize before finding themselves ensnared in her web.
Rubbing my face with my hand, I tilted my head back. Good god, she was such a pain in my ass. "What are you doing here?"
“Scoping out how things work when they know the boss isn’t watching. I’m looking into my investments. Both financial and personal.”
My attention snapped at her. “Personal? What personal interests do you have here, Elin?”
“You.” My lips pressed into a thin line as her gaze left mine and looked around before meeting mine again. "Jealous?"
I said nothing. All I knew was that admitting that I very well might be jealous was a confession that would scorch my throat.
My pulse hammered against my temples; fury simmered within every fiber of my being.
There they were, all those fuckers. Their fingers reaching for her as if entitled to her, as if she were a mere object of their fleeting desires.
Not to mention the one who thought he had so much of a claim on her he’d tried to drug her.
The anger burned like a raging fire, a blaze that threatened to consume me.
Elin was no mere Goddess for my pleasure.
No, she wielded power over something far more potent—the very essence of my being.
And in that unguarded moment, I knew with no uncertainty that the woman I loved to hate had made sure I was hers for all time.
The air was thick with tension as I glared at Elin.
Her lips curled into a sly smile as she reveled in the chaos she had so effortlessly created.
"Well, pretty boy, as I said, I wanted to come in and see how my business ran for myself, and I will admit, there are so many issues that we will be addressing.
" Her tone was casual, but her eyes gleamed with the thrill of her own game.
"Is that so?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, the edges honed by a mixture of desire and ire. "Other than all those men putting their hands on you?"
With a flick of my wrist, I beckoned to Clive for some water across the noise-filled expanse.
He immediately tossed a bottle over to me, and I caught it effortlessly.
I twisted the cap off and tilted the top to my lips and took a long, deliberate drink.
I lowered my arm, feeling the water's coolness do little to quell the heat rising in my cheeks.
Elin's gaze was steady, a smirk dancing on her lips, as if she were enjoying the possessiveness that surely flickered across my face.
"Indeed," she said, leaning closer, her voice a silken whisper meant only for me amidst the din.
"The first of which was too many women touching you this evening.
Especially that blonde." Her finger traced an invisible line over the bar top, a gesture that drew a direct path to my core.
"You are mine, and I don’t allow my things to be touched without permission. "
She spoke with the authority of a queen addressing her subject, and despite the rebellion simmering within me, I knew she was right. My response came with a tinge of defiance, though I could not disguise the pride swelling in my chest at having adhered to her unspoken rules. "I sent her packing."
"Fifteen women." Her eyes glittered with dangerous mirth. "There were fifteen women in total who touched you without my permission."
The number struck me harder than the stiffest drink.
Fifteen? My mind scrambled through the night's interactions, trying to tally up faces and encounters.
But amid the blur of the club's gyrating bodies and the endless flow of patrons, the total eluded me.
The buzz of conversation around us seemed to quiet as I grappled with the accusation.
"Really?" I managed, my voice betraying a mix of skepticism and a hint of concern. "Were there that many?"
"What do you suppose I should do as punishment? You did keep me from having the spiked drink, but I’m curious what you think would be an appropriate punishment for someone touching what is mine." Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, and the weight of her gaze pinned me to my spot.
For a brief moment, I allowed my eyes to close. With a deep breath, I steeled myself for the inevitable reprimand, pulling forth every ounce of control not to betray the excitement her promise of punishment ignited.
When my eyelids lifted, Elin was there—still, observant, her study so intense I could almost feel the brush of her eyelashes against my skin.
She leaned forward slightly, her lips parted just enough to suggest she was going to say something.
Instead, her eyes dissected my reaction with an acuteness that left me feeling exposed, even in the crowded room.
As Clive approached, he set down a drink before Elin with casual ease, lifting his chin toward the far end of the bar. "Redhead asked me to get this for you."
The words hung heavily in the air between us, and a knot formed in my gut. It was irrational, this pang of possessiveness that surfaced at the thought of another's attention on her, but it clung to me like a second skin.
Elin's lips curled into a practiced smile, her eyes dancing with mischief as she adopted the sweet facade she wore so well.
She raised her hand gracefully, acknowledging the sender with a wave that was both dismissive and enticing.
"Tell him thank you for me, will you, Clive?
" Her voice, sugared with feigned appreciation, only served to tighten the knot further.
He nodded, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between us, and retreated to relay her message. I watched the exchange, a silent spectator to the theater of deception she played so skillfully.
I stood there, rooted to the spot as the redhead's gaze lingered on Elin.
His smug smirk suggested a victory, a claim he presumed to have staked.
The simmering jealousy within me threatened to boil over.
It wasn't just about protection anymore.
No, as my jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might crack, I realized this was about possession.
"Are you mad that someone bought me a drink?" Her voice cut through the haze, laced with challenge and a trace of amusement. She turned to face me, her eyes gleaming with defiance and something else, something that teased at the edges of my consciousness—provocation.
The question hung in the air between us, a test of my restraint and desires. A part of me wanted to roar with fury, to shatter this illusion of ownership. Instead, I held her gaze, battling the primal urge to react.
In a futile attempt to hide the storm of emotions brewing within me, I narrowed my eyes at her. The word tumbled out, doing nothing to hide my inner turmoil. "No."
"Good boy." Her response came drizzled with both sarcasm and command. Lifting the glass, she took a small sip that seemed to punctuate her control. Then, as she held my gaze, she ran her tongue over her lips, causing my cock to twitch within its chain mail confines.
"Go upstairs to my office," she instructed, her voice a velvet purr that wrapped around my senses. Her command was clear. "I want you on your knees and naked when I walk in. I'll be five minutes or five hours. I expect you to be there waiting for me."
As I stood there, the weight of her expectations settled upon my shoulders.
The thought of her finding me in position sent a thrill down my spine.
Was it the punishment or the expectation of pleasure that awaited me that had heat flooding my body?
With the command still hanging in the air, I straightened. "Yes, Goddess."
For a moment, our eyes locked. Hers were filled with an intensity that could ignite the very air between us, and mine reflected a mix of reverence and rebellion.
Turning away from her gaze, I made my way toward the elevator.
A few minutes later, the leather of her office couch groaned beneath me as I collapsed onto it, letting out a long, drawn-out groan.
What have I gotten myself into?
Not letting myself dwell too hard, I stood back up. Stripping, I folded my clothes, set them on the couch behind me, but I placed my cell on top, just in case.
Kneeling on the floor, I waited.
And waited.
When my father’s ringtone came through a couple hours later, I reached back, answering it quickly.
“Hello, Father.”
“Gavriel.” There was a heavy pause as I waited for what he was going to say. “Did you see Rhea today?”
“Not today.” Why?
Turning to look at the clock, I furrowed my brows.
Why would he be calling in the middle of the night about Rhea?
I heard the long breath he let out as it blew over the microphone of the phone.
“The contract is signed with Juarez. I advised her of her duty and well, she’s not agreeable to the arrangement. ”
“She loved Joel. Just as much as you loved Mom.” He gave a grunt of derision.
And I am going to find a way to get her out of this. Do I have a clue how yet? No, no, I don’t.
“What can I do for you, Father?” There was more to this phone call than to feign concern about my sister’s discontent.
“I am in need of the Owl’s Talon.” A completely different kind of excitement rushed through my veins as I waited for his instructions. “One of the old Westwood bookies forfeited. Time to collect in blood. I’ll send you the location.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hung up at my agreement, and I stood on stiff legs.
Wait.
Goddess told me to wait here for her.
But the Don requires my services.
Torn, I reminded myself that the agreement was she was in control of all except for family business. This was family business.
Why am I even questioning this? What in the ever-living fuck is wrong with me?
You like her taking over.
She’s still the annoying daughter of Joel though.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.
Pushing those thoughts from my head, I knew that if didn’t follow my father’s instructions, I wouldn’t have the ability to enjoy my Goddess.
Getting dressed quickly, I headed over to her desk and on the notepad wrote:
Check the cameras. Followed instructions. Business called.
Will accept any punishment my Goddess deems appropriate.