Chapter 12
Connor Pen
My normal reprieve—drowning myself in work—is pure torture with fresh memories of Hilary’s passion in my thoughts, but I keep my hands to myself and focus on the task in front of me.
Despite the stress of the morning, Hilary tackles each issue as it rises, the jumbled mess of incomplete tasks from her time off slowly unraveling by her expertise.
By the time lunch rolls around, my skin itches and need creates a steady pulsing in my balls, but I lead my warrior queen out of the office as though she isn’t the one in charge and slip my hands into my pockets to prevent myself from reaching for her in the elevator.
I lose my patience in the car and demand her hand over the center console. She aims reproachful eyes at me. I quirk a brow.
“We’re not a real couple,” she deflects.
“We’re not leaving until you take my hand,” I challenge.
She lifts a brow in a feminine version of mine.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“To buy rings.”
I smirk in delight as surprise flashes across her face. She buries her emotions and takes my hand with angry reluctance.
“You still haven’t told me the plan or even how our marriage is part of it. How am I supposed to act in public as your fiancée?”
I lift her knuckles to my lips and sneak my tongue between her fingers before responding.
“You don’t have to act, Hilary. You’re perfect the way you are.”
She scoffs and pushes her hand against my mouth, forcing my head up and my eyes forward.
“Focus on driving, not slobbering all over me,” she hisses.
“See? Perfect,” I growl.
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, but a small smile plays on her lips.
I pull up to the curb, toss the keys to the valet, and push the attendant away to help Hilary out of the car. Arm in arm, I lead her into New York City’s most luxurious jewelry store.
A shriek pierces my ears. I stiffen as a blur of pastel pink launches toward Hilary but drop my arm when she pushes me away.
“Hilary? Oh my god, it is you. Hi!”
My gladiator goddess opens her arms and welcomes the young woman with a hug.
My insides morph to an arctic tundra as I recognize the girl.
Destiny Koch. My half sister. The legitimate heir to the Koch legacy.
My hatred doubles as she steals my warrior queen’s attention.
“Destiny! What are you doing here?” Hilary asks.
I grit my teeth, furious over their unexpected familiarity. When did my gladiator goddess become so close to my archnemesis?
“My mom made me come with her,” Destiny pouts. “She’s pretty excited about this new set they had delivered this morning. It’s all she’s talked about for weeks.”
Hilary glances at me and lifts her brows. I nod. The resolution in her eyes assures me she understands.
Jocelyn Koch will not be leaving with the jewelry she so covets.
“What do you think of the set?” Hilary asks Destiny.
Uncertainty jangles up my spine. Involving Destiny beyond watching her fall with her parents poses too many issues.
Destiny looks around before leaning forward.
“I… I kind of wish it didn’t exist. She cares more for shiny rocks than she does me,” she half whispers.
Hilary pulls her in for another hug and murmurs just loud enough for the three of us to hear.
“I got you, boo. Take notes, yeah?”
Destiny’s wide eyes pierce my soul. She’s easily double the age I was when her mother tore my life to pieces, but the innocence in her face is irrefutable.
Worms crawl in my stomach.
Revenge does not leave room for doubt, yet here I am hesitating in a jewelry store with irreversible plans underway.
Hilary sends Destiny off to evil incarnate as the woman emerges from the lush restroom.
I pull my warrior queen tight to my side and dig my fingertips into her hip.
“What was that?” I snarl into her ear.
She elbows me hard enough to knock the wind out of me.
“She’s just a child. Leave her alone,” she says through gritted teeth.
I pull her to my front and cup the back of her head. To those around us, it appears a loving and doting embrace, but I sink my nails into her scalp and crush her to me as I snarl, “I don’t think—”
“You also thought I wouldn’t have to act, so shut up,” she hisses. “The business world may be yours, but this is women’s work. If you have the funds, let me handle it,” she demands.
I drop my forehead to hers and brush my nose back and forth over hers.
“I want to eat you alive when you challenge me like this,” I growl.
“You haven’t paid me enough for that yet,” she quips.
Fury and hunger override my control, and I take her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. She stiffens before melting in my arms and giving me back every ounce of desperation until my head spins.
I rip my mouth away only to brush my lips over hers in a show of endearment.
I’ve already put her in too much danger. Our display paints too much of a target on her head, but if anyone can handle the heat, it’s my gladiator goddess.
I angle her away from me, drape my arm over her shoulders, and lead her to the counter.
An attendant greets us and begins testing our worth through the normal salesperson rhetoric.
Hilary gasps and points to the set of rings nestled in the velvet display tray in the aid’s hands.
“Those are gorgeous,” she gushes.
The aid freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. Jocelyn’s expression turns murderous. She opens her painted mouth to call the aid over, but Hilary presses her fingers to her lips and produces a single tear as she chokes words past her emotions.
“I swear I saw those in my dream last night. They’re perfect. Please let me try them on.”
The aid stammers and shuffles back while our attendant scrambles to keep up. “I’m sorry, miss—”
“Excuse me, I requested them first,” Jocelyn hisses from her perch on the couch in the posh alcove.
Hilary bites back a tortured sob and shakes her head.
“No, you’re right. I’m sorry, I—” Looking overcome with misery, she covers her face with her hands and ducks into my chest.
I wrap my arms around her and scowl at the attendant as I pat her back.
The store manager rushes out from the back room with horror plastered on his surgically altered features. He must have watched the scene unfold on the security camera.
With grace born of years’ worth of training, he puts his body between us and the aid and gestures for the poor sap to continue toward Mrs. Koch.
“Sir, we have many other sets by the same designer—”
Hilary sobs and clutches my lapels. Annoyance flits across the manager’s face, but he slaps a look of sympathy on top and pulls three velvet trays out of the display case.
“These are—”
Hilary burrows deeper into me. Pain pulses through my abused organs, but I hold her tighter and deepen my glare.
“I’ll take those,” I say with a nod toward the woman who murdered my mother.
Certain of her victory, she gives me a haughty look through her overdone eyelashes before smiling at the attendant.
“Sir, you may not understand because you’re new here, but—”
“Excuse me?” I growl.
He blanches and rambles in an attempt to save his ass, “Mrs. Koch comes regularly. She’s one of our top paying clients. I can’t—”
“Did I not introduce myself?”
Even Hilary shivers at the ice in my tone. She hiccups and sniffles into my chest before looking up. With wide eyes, she turns from the man who looks ready to piss himself up to my face.
“Babe, don’t scare the man. I didn’t mean to—”
“Hush, my queen. He deserves to know before he makes the biggest mistake of his career,” I coo down at her.
She may think it’s all a ruse, but what I feel for her reaches my very depths. I’ll cherish this little play forever.
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think I caught your name?” the manager says.
I peel my gaze off Hilary’s gorgeous face and pin him in place with an icy stare.
Sweat glistens on his brow.
“Connor Pen,” I say.
All the color drains from his face.
I may have never come into any brick-and-mortar store, but my purchases over the years far exceed those of the Koch family.
A snapshot from the worst day of my life stays vivid in my mind almost constantly.
Jocelyn Koch’s hand, wrapped around a phone with rings, bracelets, and long, gaudy nails, shone in the streetlamp through the lowered back window of her Rolls Royce as she drove past my dying mother.
As soon as I had access to the internet, I found her favorite jeweler. My first high-dollar purchase after starting my business was here.
All for this moment.
Once he picks his jaw up off the floor, the manager waves the aid over so fast he looks like he might take flight. The poor man nearly trips over his feet in his haste to bring us the tray.
Hilary gushes over the jewelry as though unaware of Jocelyn’s glower, but she winks at Destiny when the witch turns around to grab her purse.
I perfect the moment by dropping to one knee and proposing with the ring my mother’s murderer yearned for but will never have.
The gasps and applause fade into the background as I meet Hilary’s eyes. The dull ache lurking behind her fake smile punches me in the gut. This isn’t what she wants, but she doesn’t believe she deserves more.
I’ll give her everything. Once we avenge my mother and decimate my father, I’ll propose for real. Anything she wants; I’ll do it. Nothing is too much.
I slip the hideous monstrosity onto her finger and kiss her knuckle before rising and pulling her into my arms.
When she doesn’t pour her heart into the kiss, I cut it short and tuck her against my side. I select a few other jewelry sets and purchase them all before ushering my warrior queen through the exit and into the car.
Sensing her need for space, I don’t request her hand. When I open my mouth a few blocks later, she lifts her palm in the universal sign for stop and glares at me.
“Whatever snafus I made were your fault for not properly informing me of the plan. It’s lunchtime.
I’m starving. Feed me and take me back to work.
Also,” she takes off the ring and sets it in the cup holder nearest me, “I’m not wearing this at the office, nor am I carrying it home for my sister to steal.
In fact, I’m not wearing it at all until you tell me what the actual fucking plan is,” she snarls.
If it weren’t for her wicked self-control, she’d no doubt be ripping her hair out in frustration right now, and I don’t blame her. I threw her into a situation without preparation of any kind.
“And also, where the hell is my million dollars for signing the contract? It’s been almost twenty-four hours.”
I reach into my suit pocket and offer her two cards. She eyes me as though she expects a clown to jump out from behind my ear.
“The silver is yours. The black is joint. No limit. Use the black for everything,” I say.
“Don’t you mean anything?” she asks.
I park on the curb near her favorite café and meet her eyes.
“No. Everything.”
She plucks the silver card from my fingers and uses it to tap the black.
“Are you sure? I have some major expenses coming up.”
Deciding to strike while she’s off kilter from the proposal, I smirk and lean over the center console. She doesn’t shy away.
“Do you mean Hannah’s clinical trial?”
Her pupils shrink and fear clouds her eyes. I grab her nape and speak before she thinks the worst.
“I had nothing to do with her acceptance, I haven’t read her medical records, and I’ve never contacted her or any of her caretakers. I know of her clinical trial only because you were distraught last week.”
The tension coiled within her makes her nape taut under my hand.
For several horrible heartbeats, I wonder if I’ve gone too far.
Ever since I fucked up and tried to blackmail my way into her bed—using her need for money to pay for her sister’s clinical trial—nothing has gone right.
From offering her a contract marriage much earlier than planned to making a scene at the jewelry store and rushing a proposal, mentioning her sister’s medical expenses may be another horrid misstep.
Hilary blows out her breath and visibly forces herself to relax.
“I don’t want to know what that means. It’s too stalkery. As your employee, I should have notified you anyway since I’ll need to take leave on her travel days, I just… I haven’t gotten that far yet,” she admits.
I tug her face toward me and use her narrowed focus on my lips as a distraction to slip the black card between her fingers on top of the silver.
“I forgive you,” I murmur.
The extended pause between me speaking the words and her understanding them proves my effect on her. I steal a chaste peck to her lips before releasing her and leaning back.
Anger glitters in her eyes, but her stomach rumbles and breaks the silence. I smirk and check for incoming vehicles before opening my door.
She curses under her breath. I look behind me as I rise and confirm she recognized my ploy as she studies the black card.
The mix of emotions on her face clears away my doubts and makes the path forward clear.
No more pussyfooting or fumbling around. After I feed my cranky woman, we’re going to visit all her supposed sisters—starting at the care facility then heading to her apartment—and begin their move into the townhouse this afternoon. Then tonight I can fill my warrior queen in on the plan.
And hopefully fill other parts of her, too.
She’s so close. I need her closer.
Tonight.