Chapter 62
Chapter Sixty-Two
“Do what needs to be done,” I demanded.
Marcus glanced at Sunaria and then stared at his shoes. “But he’s a harmless old man.”
I scoffed. “Since when have you become so sentimental?”
Marcus flopped down into the seat on the other side of my desk. Turning the pages of the leather-bound book, I took my time reading what Marcus had presented, our business records, and leisurely assessing the contents.
When a room remains the same, it provides the impression that time has not passed.
The study was unchanged from when I’d commissioned the finishing touches; the central oak writing desk still in mint condition, the arched window overlooking London with its ever-changing view, and the large fireplace framed by its imperfect mahogany mantelpiece.
They knew well enough not to question me on that.
Despite my hatred of London, I’d continued to reside within Belshazzar’s. Our business affairs had taken off and kept me distracted. Commerce had been the reason Marcus had entered my private chamber tonight.
He crossed his legs. “We own every piece of land within a mile.”
“But not that one,” I said. “And you’ve done everything in your power to persuade Mr. Lewis to sell?”
“Offered triple.”
I shrugged. “Then we have no choice.”
Marcus looked crestfallen. “You want me to…?”
“Yes.” I closed the book.
“Why kill him?” he asked. “He’ll probably die of old age soon anyway.”
“From this little performance, you’d never know you were vampires.” I pushed the book across the desk. “His children will sell the property to the government, or worse, the Church.”
“There must be some other way.”
“And risk having some religious monument erected?” I said.
Sunaria moved closer to Marcus’ chair. “Then we buy the land from them.”
“Do I have to take care of it myself?” I asked, shaking my head.
Marcus leaned back and stared up at Sunaria.
Recently, I’d noticed that I blinked less, the subtle response that broke the intensity of one’s stare. With my gaze locked on Sunaria now, I saw the reaction evoked by such a stare. “Darling, how about you? Fancy a trip out?”
Sunaria turned away and Marcus studied his fingernails.
“Turns out being seduced by three whores is considered an affair.” I found myself smiling.
It was a cruel lie, and she knew it. Depression and despair had turned me into a morbid villain.
All remnants of joy had fled from my life.
“You need some fresh air.” Her gaze flitted from me to Marcus.
“What do you think, Marcus?” I smiled.
He reached for the book, but I grabbed it and pushed it past the edge of the desk. It landed with a thud.
“Perhaps we should discuss this another time,” Marcus suggested.
“Why not invite Mr. Lewis here?” I asked. “Sunaria can be very persuasive.”
Marcus rose. “I should be going.”
“Sit down,” I snapped.
Marcus did so, rubbing his hands together. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
My glare forced him to look away.
“Sunaria, pay the old man a visit.”
She scowled at me. My expression blank, I replied with silence, and she headed for the door.
“I expect you back by ten.” I squinted her way. “With the deeds to his house.”
Sunaria’s hand rested on the doorknob, her back to the room. “And if I’m not?”
“I’ve seen your dark side. I know what you’re capable of.” I reached into my jacket and withdrew my pocket watch. “And I know you like it.” I flipped open the hunter-case to check the time.
She twisted the knob slowly. “I won’t do it.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
From Marcus’ expression, he’d picked up that the silence was due to me berating Sunaria with unspoken words.
She spun around and, in a flash, grabbed the book off the floor and threw it at me. My laughter followed her out.
For the next few hours, I lost myself in work. All else felt hollow, except the forging of an empire destined to endure the ages. In that alone, there was the semblance of purpose. As long as I didn’t think about him, my beloved son...
I was so engrossed in reading, I hardly noticed Sunaria standing before me with the folded parchment in her hand. She’d just returned from her visit to see Mr. Lewis.
“Put it there.” I pointed to the desk.
She’d donned her favorite dress, a red silk gown. I liked her in it, the daring color a refreshing change from her usual black.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Her gaze met mine.
“Did he sign it?”
“He did.”
I shrugged.
She dropped the paper onto the desk, and I slid it beside the others.
Her lips quivered, a welcome sign that she was nearing her breaking point.
Taking my time, I admired her low neckline, the curve of her breasts pushing against the taut luster of the material, the silk clinging to her small waist, emphasizing her slenderness.
Pushing back my chair, I joined Sunaria on the other side of the desk. Standing close, I traced her spine, running my fingers up and down it, and then nestled into her nape, kissing her tenderly.
Sunaria responded.
My left arm wrapped around her waist, my right pushed her forward, bending her over the desk with her arms extended. Sunaria’s dark locks cascaded over her bare shoulders and face. My hand slid up, under her gown, running along her silky thigh.
She sighed.
I pulled back my hand and grabbed her dark locks, whispering, “How did you get him to sign it?”
“I’ve always been loyal to you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I told him that another orphanage would be built on his land and that something wonderful would come of him selling his property,” she said.
“And then you paid him one hundred pounds?”
Sunaria spun around. “You now own more property than any other businessman in London.”
“That wasn’t the sum we discussed.”
“Long term, it was worth it.”
“Orphanage? That’ll be the fifth.”
“The only good thing you’ve ever done,” she snapped.
My mind drifted to the workhouses, and their undernourished children, with dark circled, wide-eyed stares that had stayed on us as we’d trekked through, searching for Jacob.
I’d promised myself that I’d come back for them.
Years later, when the hours I’d spent searching for Jacob were mine again, I’d made that pledge a reality.
Though those children had long grown up, we saved the ones who’d replaced them in a perpetual cycle, society’s darkest side, rarely spoken of.
Perhaps this endeavor also helped me to hold on to my essential goodness. The sweetest lie that I kept telling myself.
Sunaria tried to pull away.
“Why don’t you leave me?” I drew in a sharp breath.
“What?”
“All these years you’ve stayed, but I’m not the man I once was.”
“I love you.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“For the first time in decades, I like myself again.”
“What are you talking about?” I said, curious.
“Time changes everything. Our hearts harden as we try to cope with all that life brings. But a fresh perspective...”
“Fresh blood.” I smirked.
Her attention shifted for a moment, then settled back on me. “I didn’t mean that. I see the world a different way.”
“I’m not that man anymore.”
“I still see such good in you.”
Deep in thought, I tried to tap into those old feelings and with my outstretched hand, I traced an invisible line. “It’s this close.”
“What is?”
“It brushes against me, luring me.”
Staring at her, I felt a real sense that she might be the only thing holding me back from this looming, faceless entity that tempted me to walk the path of least resistance, and surrender.
“To what, Orpheus?” Sunaria uttered nervously, having read my thoughts.
Instead of answering, I listened to the rain pelting the tin rooftops, soaking the street sellers and their miserable customers below.
Strange how alone I felt.
I turned Sunaria around and leaned her forward over the desk again.
Down came her soft, black undergarments, and my fingers brushed against the silken curls of her sex, grazing between pressed thighs, finding their way to her heated core, stroking her.
I felt her push back, a moan escaping her, as she clutched the edge of the desk tighter.
I cupped her breast, squeezing and then pinching the other, eliciting another moan.
“I lied about the whores,” I whispered close to her ear.
My way of saying I was sorry.
She let out a deep sigh.
“I’ll make it up to you.” I raised the hem of her dress and pressed against her womanly softness.
I eased myself out and caressed my hardness, then slid into her, evoking a welcome cry. Continuing to caress her right breast with a delicate motion in unison with my thrusts, I drove her into a frenzy. “You’re the only good thing about me,” I confided, or perhaps I thought it.
Either way, she heard my heart.
Our rhythmic pace in perfect time, she arched her back, her hips riding me, as I ran my fingernails down her spine. Holding back on my own pleasure, caring only for hers, I drew in my breath. “Don’t come until I say,” I warned her.
She pleaded with a groan.
Prolonging the intensity, controlling her, my fingers found their own pleasure as they rubbed her wetness with expert pressure, flicking her clitoris as though one with it.
I remembered the time she’d offered me eternity, the darkest gift.
Quietness loomed in the deserted courtyard. No sense of balance. Intoxicating… soothing, a woman’s scent.
Do you choose life?
My mind drifted back into the room. I chose you.
Sunaria, my supernatural maker, imperious mistress and flawless lover, the exquisite pleasure she brought was the finest escape.
This one truth we shared as we rocked together in ecstasy, unraveling within timelessness itself, as I promised her, not with words but with thrusts, that I’d never leave her and that I’d always love her.
Together, we transcended into rapture.
“You may come,” I said softly.
Afterwards, we lay on the luxurious bed with both of us staring up at the ceiling knowing that soon we would have to disappear through that secret door and take our slumber not in this chamber but in a small fortress of sorts that protected us from most threats.
But not all. “You’re the only thing holding me back.” I gazed at her.
“Back from where?” she asked, her voice low.
My eyes glazed over as I considered whether to concede to its pull, seemingly full of promise. I raised my hand, declining the affection she offered.
“But you’ve felt that way before,” she uttered.
She didn’t understand.
I climbed off the bed and approached the window and stared out over the soaked rooftops. Drenched people below scurried along, unaware that on the very edge of their world lay ours. Sunaria joined me and peered out.
I gave her a crooked smile. “I’ve been thinking of going to Salisbury.”
Her aversion was instant. She slapped me.
A flash of pain on my left cheek, a residual stinging, and it felt good. She’d left a mark. I smiled and rubbed my jaw. “Did I say Salisbury? I meant Spain.”
Sunaria let out a sob. “Don’t.”
She wasn’t ready to hear my plan to wipe out the rest of the Stone Masters.
I ran my fingers affectionately through her silky locks. “I’ve been considering your idea.”
“Converting Belshazzar’s into a private club?” Her eyelids flickered in response to my touch.
“We can lure in affluent businessmen and politicians.”
She fell against me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Please tell me this isn’t another one of your games?”
“Marcus can run it. He’s expressed an interest in managing a gentleman’s club. He believes we can establish a prestigious bedrock.”
Sunaria nuzzled in further. “Keep our enemies close.”
“We’ll be at the very center of society’s advances.”
Turning this place over to Marcus would be the final step in letting Jacob go, though I was not sure that such a thing was even possible. The idea of lessening the anguish was comforting, but the notion of this inner pain dissipating brought with it guilt that I was betraying him.
“We can refurbish.” Sunaria tried to calm my rambling thoughts by changing the subject.
“Not this wing. It mustn’t be touched.”
“You’re not planning on staying to see your plan through, are you?”
“I’m done with London.”
“Orpheus?” Wary of me, her tone was timid.
“We leave tomorrow.” I waved her out of the room. “Tell Marcus I want to see him.”