2. Summoned by the King #2
"Men like you." I'm trembling harder now, but it's not fear anymore.
Something else is bleeding through—eight years of swallowed rage, of being used, of being the one who always pays.
"Men like you with money, with power—you think you can stomp on the rest of us.
Take what you want. The little people don't matter, right? We're just—we're just things to you."
He doesn't flinch. Doesn't react at all. Just watches me with those frozen eyes, that beautiful, terrible face utterly still.
"You think I'm here to stomp on you?"
"Aren't you?"
"No." He takes a step closer. I hold my ground, barely. "I'm more like a hawk. Swooping in to pluck you from the wolves that would have torn you apart."
"A hawk." A laugh escapes me—bitter, broken. "Right. You swoop in to save me, and then what? Take me back to your roost? Keep me there until you're ready to devour me?"
Something shifts in his expression. A crack in the ice. For just a moment, he looks almost pleased.
"You're not wrong about that."
The admission hangs in the air between us. He doesn't apologize for it. Doesn't soften it. Just lets it sit there, a truth as bare and cold as this room.
"One night." I force the words out. "That's what your man told Bennett. One night, and the debt is cleared."
"Is that what you think this is?" He moves to his desk, picks up a folder I hadn't noticed. "One night with you in my bed, and then we part ways? You go back to dealing cards, I go back to running my empire, and we both pretend this never happened?"
He's laughing at me. Not out loud, but it's there in the set of his mouth.
"What else would it be?"
He opens the folder. Pulls out a single sheet of paper. Holds it up, though I'm too far away to read it.
"Do you know why I intercepted your brother's offer, Miss Henderson?"
"You said you saw something you wanted."
"I did. But I could have any woman in this city for a night. I could have ten women. A hundred. One night isn't worth what I paid Carlo Moreno to back off your brother."
My stomach is churning. The trembling has spread to my whole body now.
"Then what is worth it?"
He sets the paper down on the desk. Slides it toward me with one long finger.
"A year."
The word doesn't register. I stare at him, certain I've misheard.
"A year," he repeats. "Twelve months. Three hundred sixty-five days. That's what I paid for, Miss Henderson. Not a night of sex. A year of complete submission."
The room tilts. I grab the back of one of those expensive, uncomfortable chairs to keep from swaying.
"You're—what are you talking about? You can't—that's not?—"
"I can. It is." He picks up his whiskey again, takes a sip like we're discussing the weather. "One year. You live here, in my penthouse. You follow my rules. You do as I say, when I say it. Your time, your body, your obedience—they belong to me."
"That's insane."
"Perhaps."
"You're talking about—what, slavery? You can't own a person?—"
"I'm talking about a consensual power exchange.
" His voice hardens, slightly. "You have a choice, Miss Henderson.
You can walk out of this office right now.
Go back to your shift. Go back to your life.
I'll release your brother's debt back to the Morenos, and you can see how long the two of you last against Carlo's hospitality. "
The floor feels like it's moving under my feet.
"Or?" My voice comes out as a whisper.
"Or you sign a contract. One year. You become mine—my property, my possession, my responsibility. At the end of twelve months, you walk away free and clear. Your brother's debt is erased. You never have to see me again if that's what you want."
He says it so casually. My property. My possession. Like he's discussing a car he's thinking of buying.
"Why?" The question tears out of me. "Why me? If you can have anyone—if you can buy anything—why go through all this trouble for a blackjack dealer who can barely make rent?"
He sets his glass down. Moves toward me again, and this time I do step back. My shoulders hit the wall. Nowhere else to go.
He stops inches away. The heat of him radiates despite the cold of this room. Those ice-blue eyes fill my entire field of vision.
"Your brother offered you," he says softly. "But I was already watching you. Do you know what I saw?"
I can't speak. Can barely breathe.
"I saw a woman who works double shifts to pay debts she didn't incur.
Who hasn't bought herself anything in years.
Who disappears inside herself when she's afraid, but never lets anyone see her break.
" His voice drops lower. Intimate. Dangerous.
"I like breaking beautiful things, Miss Henderson.
Especially the ones who don't know they're beautiful. Especially the ones who hide."
My heart is slamming against my ribs. His proximity is doing something to me. Something I don't want to name. Heat spreading through my belly. Awareness prickling along my skin. The shameful, secret part of me that wondered what it would be like to be wanted by someone like him.
"You think you can break me?"
The words come out steadier than I expected. Defiant. A flash of the steel I didn't know I had.
Something changes in his expression. A flicker. A spark.
"I think I'd very much like to try."
He steps back. The spell breaks. I suck in a breath like I've been drowning.
"You have until tomorrow evening to decide." He returns to his desk, sits in the leather chair like a king taking his throne. "Eight o'clock. Come back here with your answer."
"And if I say no?"
"Then you say no." He opens his laptop, dismissing me. "And you and your brother can take your chances with the Morenos. I'm sure Carlo will be delighted to have you back."
I stare at him. This beautiful, terrible man who offered to buy me for a year. Who told me I'd be his property, his possession. Who looked at me like I was something worth owning.
"You're a monster."
He doesn't look up from the laptop.
"Yes." The word is soft. Unbothered. "But I'm the monster who's offering to keep you safe. The question is whether you're smart enough to accept."
The elevator ride down feels longer than the ride up.
I lean against the brass railing, staring at my reflection in the polished doors. The woman looking back at me is pale. Shaking. Looks like she's seen something that will haunt her forever.
A year.
Not one night. A year.
His property. His possession. Following his rules, doing as he says, belonging to him in every way that matters.
It's insane. It's impossible. It's the most terrifying thing anyone has ever proposed to me.
And underneath the terror, beneath the revulsion, rage, and disbelief, there's something else. Something I don't want to acknowledge.
A spark.
A dark, shameful curiosity.
What would it be like?
The elevator opens onto the hallway. The two men are waiting.
They lead me through the halls and back to the casino floor.
The noise hits me like a wave. Slot machines, laughter, the clink of glasses and chips.
The real world, still spinning, oblivious to the fact that my entire life got picked up and shaken like a snow globe.
I have until tomorrow at eight.
Twenty hours to decide whether to sell myself to a monster.
Twenty hours to decide whether to let my brother face the Morenos alone.
I already know what I'm going to choose.
I've always known.
I have to find a way to survive it.