Chapter 2
DANE
Fifty million fucking dollars.
My wife’s show was worth every goddamn cent. I wasn’t certain she’d go through with it without a bit more coaxing. My little kitten is going to be even more fun to play with than I imagined.
I let the fucking Council tell me no to having her before. And there's nothing they can do about it now. No one tells me no anymore. I'm in control, even if those fucks don’t realize it. I’ll make them pay in my own way, and now I’ll punish her for making me want her all these years.
She’s my trophy for proving that I get what I want, and I get to rub it in the Council’s face every fucking day.
What pisses me off even more is that Gerald tossed her aside once she was too old for him. I don’t think Whitney knows what a fucking creep her husband really was. She’s likely unaware of just how sick the man was.
And she doesn’t need to know. There's nothing she could have done.
Now she’s mine and I protect what’s mine. She’s sitting in the passenger seat of my car with her hands folded in her lap. She hasn’t said a word since we left the auction.
Her chest is rising and falling as she tries to control her breath. The flush hasn’t faded from her chest, and her light brown hair is loose around her shoulders. I pat the pocket holding her panties, knowing she’s never getting those back.
If she thinks I’ll allow her to give me the silent treatment and ignore me, she’s fucking wrong.
I’ve waited almost twenty years for this woman. I cornered her all those years ago in a hallway at a Ravens gathering. I wrapped my hand around her throat then, just as I did tonight. I told her everything I’d make her do. It was a test before I told her father that I was going to marry her.
She passed that test, but I allowed the Ravens to stop me from what I wanted. I watched her with that decrepit dipshit Gerald. I waited for the day he would kick the bucket and I could take what was mine.
Harrison Lockwood tried to take her from me. I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to do to make him pay for that.
“Harrison Lockwood bid on you tonight.”
“Did he?” Her voice is far too casual, and I know she’s hiding something.
“You know he did.” I keep my eyes on the road, but I’ll know if her response to my next question is a lie. “Do you know him?”
“Everyone knows Harrison Lockwood.” She waves me off and then clutches her arms tighter around herself. “He’s on the Council.”
That’s not what I asked. And she fucking knows it.
“He seemed very interested in acquiring you.” I let the statement hang in the air. “Almost like he had plans for Gerald’s widow.”
I glance at her just as her jaw tightens. There it is. Something’s going on between her and Harrison Lockwood, and she’s lying to me about it. That can’t happen.
“Did you know he tried to keep me from attending tonight?”
“What?” she asks, looking at me this time.
Her first genuine response.
“The fool thought he could lie to me about the timing of the event. It was a bit juvenile and lazy as far as attempts at sabotage go. Unfortunately for him, I pay little attention to anything he says.”
“I don’t know why he would do that.”
She’s lying.
“Were you fucking him?” I’m seething, and there’s no telling what I’ll do if he has touched her.
The thought of his hands on her makes me tighten my grip on the steering wheel. The thought of him thinking he had the right to bid on what’s mine makes me want to find him tonight and break each one of his fingers.
I’m not a jealous man. Jealousy implies insecurity, and I’m not insecure about a damn thing. And this isn’t about some notion of love. I’ve seen enough bullshit within the Ravens and in my first marriage to know love is for fools.
I can admit I’m possessive of what’s mine. The woman beside me should have always been mine. The idea that Harrison Lockwood thought he could take what belongs to me—or worse, that he already had—has me plotting numerous painful ends for the bastard.
“No! Never. I swear it, Dane.”
“I believe you.” And I do. She’s telling the truth.
“He wanted you for some reason, Whitney. He didn’t bid millions for the fun of it. I know his situation doesn’t warrant such extravagance.”
She shrugs and flips her hair over her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter now. You outbid him. I’m married to you.”
I’ll leave it alone for now. She’ll tell me the truth eventually. I’ll see to that. And if I find out Harrison so much as talked about touching my wife, I’ll gut him and leave his body for the Talons to clean up.
“Yes. You are. And I advise you to remember every second of every day who it is that you belong to. I’m nothing like that pussy, Gerald. I won’t hesitate to do what is necessary to remind you.”
The car falls silent again. The tension has shifted. She knows I’m not stupid enough to believe her bullshit nonanswer.
Good. Let her wonder what I’ll do with that knowledge.
The car pulls through the gates of my estate.
The house is dark except for the security lights.
Fox, Tate, and Thorne are at their own places tonight.
I made sure of it. Her daughter Sloane is safely settled into her new college dorm.
I already have my security watching over her, and Thorne will ensure it’s done to my standards. He always does.
That means that tonight, Whitney and I are completely alone.
I park in the garage and kill the engine. She doesn’t move. She just sits there staring straight ahead, like she doesn’t understand where we are.
“Wait.” Her voice stops me before I can open my door. “What about Sloane?”
I turn to look at her. I can see the fire in her eyes. She’d do anything for her daughter, just as I would for my sons.
“What about her?” I ask.
“She’s almost eighteen. The Ravens will want to see her matched, given her lineage. And now the connection to your family.” Whitney’s hands are shaking now. She’s not bothering to hide it. “Gerald had arrangements in place. Victor Ashworth was—”
“Victor Ashworth is a seventy-year-old piece of shit.” I cut her off. “He won’t be touching your daughter.”
Whitney stares at me. She’s trying to figure out what I want in exchange for protecting her daughter.
“Sloane is free to finish college,” I continue. “She’s free to marry whomever you and she deem fit. I’m not interested in controlling your daughter’s future, Whitney. I didn’t bid on you for any connections that Sloane might bring. I have three sons, and I’m all set on friends.”
“Then why did you do it?”
I reach over and grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are wide, and there's a hint of desire there, too. Fucking beautiful.
“I would think it’s obvious, kitten. I want you.” The words come out rough. Honest. More honest than I intended. “I believe I told you already how I wanted you. Then I watched you marry that useless bastard Gerald because the Ravens told me I couldn’t have you.”
Her breath catches. I can feel her pulse racing under my fingers. Her eyes search my face, looking for the lie, the trap. She doesn’t trust me. Good. She shouldn’t trust anyone in this world.
But she’ll learn that I keep my word.
“There’s no one to tell me no anymore, Whitney. Gerald is dead, and you belong to me now.” I tighten my grip slightly. “Your daughter is safe. Your daughter is free. But you are mine. Do you understand?”
She swallows hard. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” I release her chin. “Now come and see your new home.”
She opens her door and steps out without hesitation.
I come around to her side and grip her arm tightly. I want her to feel my control. I want her to understand that claiming her on that stage was just the warm-up.
I lead her through the house without speaking. She keeps pace with me, her heels clicking against the marble floors.
“You can take a more formal tour later. But for now, there's only one room you need to become familiar with.”
I lead her up the staircase, past the grand paintings of each of my sons. She scans each of them as we pass.
“We’ll have a painting done of Sloane soon,” I tell her. “We can have it hung there just after Thorne.”
A tenderness appears in her expression. “You would do that?”
“Surely you don’t think I’m a complete asshole. I want you to think of this as your home. And besides, have no doubt that I won’t hesitate to protect Sloane the same as I would my sons. It’s not her fault she had an aged idiot for a father.”
“I . . . I guess I didn’t peg you as the family man.”
“Then you haven’t been paying attention, kitten. I’d snap the neck of anyone who should threaten what’s mine. And that includes you and Sloane.”
Her body goes rigid, and she doesn’t meet my eye.
Her reaction is a bit odd. She should know my reputation. I control the Talons, and I'm not afraid to do what needs to be done.
We reach the double doors at the end of the long hallway. I push open one door and release her arm. She enters and then moves to stand in the center of the room.
“Is my room near yours? I thought you might appreciate it if I freshened myself up a bit.”
“This is your room.”
Her eyes take in the suite. There’s a large four-poster bed, a sofa in front of a massive fireplace, and a hallway that leads to a large bathroom and double closets.
“This is for me? I can only imagine what your room must look like.”
That tells me she and Gerald didn’t share a bed on a regular basis.
“Perhaps I should have been clear. This is our room. You don’t sleep apart from me. You’ll find that your belongings have already been put in your closet, minus the vibrator.” My assistant texted me that he found one in her belongings, just as I suspected.
I step closer and grab her by the throat. “You won’t be needing that. In fact, you aren’t allowed to touch yourself at all unless I tell you to. Am I understood?”
Her nostrils flare, and I think for a second that she might argue, but she releases a small sigh. “I understand.”