Chapter 16
Connor Pen
I hide my giddy excitement behind a wicked smirk and accept the gaudy piece of paper from the clerk.
Hilary Winthrop is now Hilary Pen, my lawfully wedded wife. She’s mine forever. Finally.
She thanks the clerk for her copy, passes it to me, then asks him if there’s anything else and rises when he confirms we’re done. I stand and offer her my arm. She takes it without hesitation.
A sense of rightness washes over me. She belongs by my side.
Yet as we return to the townhouse and change into gym clothes, my giddiness fades.
She may feel different after learning this new piece of information. It’s the last secret I’ve kept from her. She needs to know, but maybe it’s too soon.
She huffs and gives me a once-over when I pause in the foyer on our way to the car.
“I upheld my end of the contract. Don’t wuss out now,” she taunts.
Despite the dangers associated with revenge and her anger over my identity, she teases me with a surprising amount of gaiety.
Another sliver of my excitement chips away as I realize the reason.
She’s happy for her sisters. Their financial woes no longer exist because of our contract marriage.
I curse my lack of foresight. If Hannah’s clinic trial is successful, will Hilary need me anymore?
I shove my insecurities aside and unlock the door.
“After you, my warrior queen,” I say with a cocky smirk and tiny bow.
She rolls her eyes and glides past me.
As I pretend to need her directions, my mind scrambles for a way out of this next battle, but it’s too important to avoid.
So much has happened in such a short period of time.
Her visit to the gym last Friday was an anomaly. Usually she only attends the self-defense class on Saturday night. She hasn’t been to the gym on a weekday in ages.
I can’t believe it’s only Thursday. Hilary called out sick on Monday, Tuesday I offered the contract marriage before she took me to the hospital, and yesterday we worked in the morning, visited Hannah after lunch, then moved her and her sisters into the townhouse.
Hilary lives in my home. She’s mine. Whatever happens at the gym today will not change her future. There’s no escape for her.
With my resolution firmed, I find the best parallel parking spot available and swing into it.
I didn’t notify our host. Some things are better left as a surprise. At least then he won’t have time to retaliate if things go sideways.
Hilary hops out before I’m halfway around the hood. I scowl.
If my uncle is watching, which he no doubt is, then Hilary just cost me major respect points.
I take her bag from her and add it to my shoulder with my duffel.
She all but skips into the two-story brick building. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and don the poker face I use for negotiations.
Hilary does a double take when she looks back to make sure I’m following her. Her enthusiasm weakens as she studies my cold expression, but she waves me onward and steps into the large back room with all the equipment.
A few white-haired elderly men slap each other on the back and say their farewells as their class ends. They nod at Hilary and me on their way to the hall.
Our host gives the mirror one last swipe before turning toward us. His expression doesn’t change, but the calculation in his eyes never ceases.
“Are you busy, sir? There’s someone I want you to meet,” Hilary says.
A single glance from the man chills me to the bone. Hilary takes my hand and pulls me forward.
“Mr. Carter, this is Connor Pen, my husband as of this morning. Connor, this is the owner and operator of the best gym in NYC, Mr. Carter,” she introduces us.
Even as she speaks, suspicion lurks in her eyes as she studies our reactions.
A hush falls over the already quiet room.
“Get on the mat,” he rumbles.
“Yes, sir, Uncle Levi,” I respond, already in motion. I set the bags on the bench by the locker rooms, take off my shoes like so many times before, and step onto the mats.
Hilary stands frozen with her wide eyes trained on the space I vacated. She blinks, comes back to life, and spins toward me.
“Uncle Levi?!”
The fury in her voice pulses in my balls.
“Uncle Levi?!” she repeats in the exact same tone.
She starts forward, pauses to yank off her shoes, then throws them at me. I don’t dodge. They bounce off my chest and stomach.
Uncle Levi scowls at the offending footwear. I pick them up and move them beside the bench.
“Mr. Carter is Uncle Levi? You knew, but you didn’t tell me. Why? Why did you keep it a secret? What horrible thing have I done for you to lie to me like this?” Hilary rants as she paces along the edge of the mats.
Mr. Carter sits on the bench and begins removing his shoes. His unhurried movements fill me with dread.
Hilary stops mid-step, pivots toward me, and glares.
My bruised insides throb from her accurate hits with her shoes, and the bite wound on my shoulder aches in time with my quickening heartbeat. Her high ponytail accentuates her natural beauty, and her bottomless brown orbs seem to suck in and trap the light with their anger.
“No, not what have I done,” she says. “What have you done? You’re still hiding something,” she accuses.
Goddamn, she’s a goddess in the flesh. I, a mortal man, have no right to stand in her presence. The urge to drop to my knees and worship her as she rages nearly wins.
She crosses her arms over her chest. Her breasts pillow over her forearms. My mouth waters and hands tingle. I yearn to devour every inch of her.
“This is too much of a coincidence. What did you do?” she demands.
I swallow as Mr. Carter bends to align his shoes with the edge of the bench.
He’s giving me an opportunity to redeem myself and reveal the darkest side of myself.
Hilary’s pupils shrink, and she pales in horror as she realizes the truth.
“You hired them, didn’t you?” Her eye twitches as she reads the answer on my face. “You hired the thugs who chased me in here eight years ago. What the hell, Connor?”
Mr. Carter stands. Hilary shifts her attention to him.
I swear the man shrinks back without even moving, but he meets her stare head on.
“You knew too, didn’t you, Mr. Carter?”
He steps onto the mat.
Hilary spins and stalks toward the door.
“Get on the mat, Hilary,” Uncle Levi commands.
Her shoulders droop as she stops halfway down the hall. She drops her face into her hands.
Terror ices my veins. I shift my weight to go to her, but she throws her hands up and then smacks her thighs as she whips around and stomps toward us.
She stops the appropriate distance away to create a triangle with our shoulders as we all face the center of the mat.
We bow.
They both come for me.
Abandoning any form of offense, I focus on defensive maneuvers as they work together to force me down to the mat.
Through sheer determination, I avoid Hilary’s arm bar and Uncle Levi’s headlock, roll out from between them, and lock my arms around Hilary’s midsection.
I tuck my chin, press the side of my face against her back, and plaster myself to her as much as possible.
She rolls. I follow her lead.
Uncle Levi grabs my ankle in an iron grip. I stop with Hilary on top of me. She elbows and bucks, but I tighten my hold and dig my free heel into the mat.
Despite her torso pinning my head to the mat, I hear every unexpected syllable my uncle says.
“The thugs weren’t real, but your path in life was. We saved you, girl.”
She makes a sound of protest between gritted teeth and jerks her leg a few times. When it doesn’t budge, I realize he has one of her ankles, too.
“So what was the plan? Get me off the streets so you could use me in some convoluted revenge plot?” she hisses.
“Keeping you close was the only way to ensure your safety,” I growl.
“Then why did you sleep with me?” she snarls.
Mr. Carter’s hand clenches on my ankle. Pain streaks up my leg and into my groin as the master hits some hidden pressure point. I grunt and force myself to breathe through the agony.
His hand leaves my ankle only for both to wrap around my wrist and forearm. With a vicious yank and twist, he breaks my hold, shoves Hilary off me with his foot, straddles me, and raises his fist.
Hilary jumps on his back and locks him in a chokehold with terrifying ease, taking advantage of his distracted state, but she doesn’t squeeze. He doesn’t attempt to free himself.
“You didn’t know he slept with me before he hired me?” she heaves.
Uncle Levi’s stare hardens impossibly further as she reveals the sordid timeline.
“Of course you didn’t know. Why would he tell you? I’m the one who shut him down when I realized he’d be my boss.”
With my uncle’s fist looming over me, I shift my gaze to Hilary’s, but I don’t speak because of the threat of my own pain, I speak because the pain in Hilary’s eyes kills me.
“It wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t strong enough to stay away. I never am when it comes to you.”
Her hold on Uncle Levi loosens as she analyzes my words and their delivery.
“No amount of groveling will ever be enough. I’m sorry, Hilary.”
She scoffs and tilts her chin to my uncle’s raised fist.
“Yeah, sure, say that without the threat of violence,” she snarls.
“Anytime. Anywhere. As many times as you want,” I vow.
She pauses.
Mr. Carter clocks me square on the jaw. My head whips to the side.
Hilary’s angry shout echoes like angelic music in my ears.
They grapple for control, their grunts and ragged breaths ringing through my ears as I recover. When my eyesight returns, Hilary maneuvers out of a leg lock and rolls to kneel with her back to me.
“You’re the one who beat him black and blue, aren’t you, Uncle Levi?”
She spits the name like a curse.
A tense moment passes as they lock eyes. Her shoulders slump.
“Because he hurt me. Goddamn, this is messed up.”
I cup her calf. She stiffens and shoves my hand off her before addressing the man I’ve looked up to for decades.
“Thank you, Mr. Carter, for avenging me. You won’t need to do it again. He’s my husband. I’ll keep him in check from here on out.”
Joy and awe bloom deep in my soul, and I can’t stop my smile any more than I can prevent my love and devotion from shining from my eyes as I stare at her profile.
He graces Hilary with a rare smile, rises, bows, then retrieves his shoes and disappears down the hall and into his office.
When Hilary pivots to face me, my stomach drops through the floor, and I know, despite my hopes, our wedding night will not be full of sensual satisfaction.
For hours we spar, box, and practice with me as the target. I don’t dare utter a single complaint. She vents years’ worth of anger on me, and I gladly accept.
Anything for my warrior queen. Anything.
Even abstinence. Although it kills me, I give her the space she needs to process the depths of my deceit.
With plenty of distractions to keep us busy—including normal work, an accelerated revenge timeline, wedding planning, Hannah’s treatments, and a secret project I hope will help shift me back into her good graces—days blur into weeks until the annual Koch shareholder meeting approaches.
Hilary’s insights shed light on several matters, and we double down until the last second. Unwilling to take chances with her safety, I commission us each suits with built-in bulletproof vests and run through plans and backup plans until she rolls her eyes at me.
I’ve spent twenty-four years of my life plotting revenge, but as the finale nears, I find it’s no longer my purpose.
Keeping Hilary safe and by my side for the rest of my life reigns supreme. I won’t be able to forgive myself if I don’t avenge my mother, but it’s all for nought without my warrior queen.
My desperation for her body grows. The sexual tension between us reaches fever heights, but she still demands I stay on the couch.
She’s vicious and glorious in her retribution, and I know without a doubt the moment we’re victorious in my revenge, we’ll go scorched earth. Nuclear.
She’ll take all of me. I’ll worship every inch of her, inside and out.
Hilary Pen is mine.
I can’t wait.