2. Sterling #2
"Our parents are getting married," I murmured, my voice like silk laced with poison, ripping off the bandaid. "You should be happy. We’re going to be family." I seethed, this wasn’t the way I wanted Zara.
Her entire body went rigid, and her small gasp made my dick rock hard.
I watched the realization crash over her, the way her lips parted, the way her chest rose and fell too quickly.
"No," she whispered. "You’re lying."
I chuckled. "Am I?"
She tried to pull away again, but I only let go when I wanted to, when I’d had my fill of her fear.
"You did this," she accused, voice shaking.
"Of course I did," I said simply, brushing my thumb over the inside of her wrist before releasing her. "Did you really think I’d let you go so easily?"
She staggered back, her eyes flashing between fury and disbelief.
I had planned every piece of this. Moved every piece on the board.
I nearly said the words; three of them, sharp as razors. But even I wasn’t that much of a liar. Not yet.
I knelt beside her again, the ointment tube heating in my grip.
She flinched when I touched her. I paused, just for a breath, then pressed forward.
Regret curled somewhere low in my chest, but not enough to loosen my grip on what I’d claimed.
Gently, I smeared the burn cream over the angry red K on her skin, my fingers slow, precise.
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away.
“It’ll scar,” I murmured. “A memory etched in skin. No one else gets to rewrite you now.”
I wrapped gauze around the wound, kissed the edges like a penance, then pulled her panties up with care, tucking the lace into place as if I hadn’t torn her apart moments before.
She blinked up at me, dazed. Trembling.
“I take care of what’s mine,” I said quietly, brushing sweat-damp curls from her cheek.
I’d finally gotten my hands on her. Not just her body, but her silence, her surrender, her vulnerability. She was raw now. Unprotected. Mine.
And I had no intention of letting her slip away again.
She might think she could run.
But I was already building the world she’d be caged in.
A world where Zara Johnston would learn the only place she ever belonged… was underneath me.
After I left her there, branded, marked, mine, I knew it was only the beginning. She thought it was over. That I’d gotten what I wanted. But what I wanted wasn’t her body. It was her surrender.
Business didn’t sleep for anyone, and I’d been dodging my mother’s calls, spending my mornings researching data for my father’s company.
She had something important to tell me, but I wasn’t interested.
Ever since he passed away six months ago, I’d been preparing to take full control of Kingsley Consortium, and had no time for her nonsense.
Kingsley Consortium looked like blue-blood investments on paper; yachts, crypto-brokerages, offshore resorts. But underneath? Arms deals, cloaked as security contracts. High-society trafficking, cloaked as talent acquisition. It was a kingdom built on shadows. And now, it was mine.
Last week, I locked her out of the shareholder meeting, and cut her access to company funds. She was livid.
When my father’s will was read, and she learned she was only getting a small stipend, she nearly lost her mind.
She’d been desperate ever since, trying to align herself with someone powerful.
But I would not let her manipulate her way back into control.
Her shares in Kingsley Consortium were already teetering, and I intended to push her out completely.
Soon, her allowance would be mine to control.
Not these small scraps of power I had now.
A widow in our world held no power.
Frankie, my COO, and trusted advisor, lit a cigarette, his gaze sharp as he leaned against the bar in my suite.
The scent of burning tobacco curled through the air, mixing with the rich musk of aged whiskey.
Outside, the city stretched beneath me, the lights glittering like a thousand little pawns, waiting to be moved.
“You sure about this?” Frankie’s voice carried the weight of caution.
I swirled the whiskey in my glass, letting the liquid catch the light. The amber glow reflected at me, dark and rich, much like the future I was carefully crafting. “It has to be done.”
Frankie exhaled, blowing a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “Dragging a new-money daughter into your castle? Bold play. The board won’t like their golden heir slumming it.”
Kingsley looked clean to the outside world; stock portfolios, hedge fund reports, white-tablecloth boardrooms. But the real power?
That moved through offshore property flips, private shell LLCs, and cash-only art auctions.
Half the board owes me their silence. The other half owes me their survival.
I smirked. “She needs to be under my roof, Frankie. I need her where I can control her.”
Frankie chuckled, shaking his head as he flicked ash into the tray beside him. “Your mother treats her like trash at the country club. You really think she’s just gonna move in, like nothing’s wrong?”
I’d silenced her once before, four years ago, snapping the bridge off her school violin, and warning that quiet girls live longer. The crack still echoes, whenever she dares raise her voice.
I set my glass down with a sharp clink. “St. Bipal is too expensive for a waitress with no family leverage. Her dad’s tapped out, and once I freeze their access to the Clear View trust, she’ll have no apartment, no job, and no car. Just me, and the house I’m offering.”
Frankie nodded slowly, processing. “And if her father resists?”
“Old money doesn’t kneel to networking. I was born into rooms he had to pay his way into.” I leaned back, swirling my drink. “I doubt he gives a fuck, but in the event I’m wrong, I’ll remind him money can’t buy legacy.”
Frankie studied me, before exhaling through his nose. “The Kingsley Family Trust won’t like any negative attention on the company.”
“You know the drill. If her father so much as whispers to a lawyer, we leak the photos of him accepting bribes from the club’s redevelopment project.
If that fails, our fire insurance guy owes me a favor in Palm Beach.
” I sipped again, stretching out my legs, as I let my mind weave the last pieces of the web.
I savored the burn as it slid down my throat.
“The Family won’t have anything to say, once they see the empire I’ve built from this ruin. ”
“She’ll fight you.”
I met his gaze, unwavering. “She can try.”
Frankie took a drag, observing me. “You really want her that badly?”
“She wasn’t a distraction. She was the one thing I couldn’t buy, couldn’t bend, at least not before.
My mother wanted to pawn her off for board votes.
I wanted to keep her for me. To reshape her in fire.
” I let out a low chuckle, tapping my fingers against my glass.
“Want is too simple a word. This is about ownership, Frankie. Control.”
Frankie scoffed. “And your mother? What’s her play in this?”
“She thinks she’s getting power,” I mused. “She believes this orchestrated marriage will benefit her with the board. But she underestimated me. I will do whatever I have to, in order to keep her gold digging hands off my father’s legacy.”
Frankie raised a brow. “You need to be careful. She was the reason you were forced overseas to begin with. She’s not to be trifled with.”
I smiled, slow and sharp. “She’s washed up, and wrong. I won’t give in. Mother better fall in line, because I won’t allow anyone to get between me and Zara.”
Frankie nodded, impressed. “So Zara is just going to be another pawn?”
“No.” My voice dropped an octave, thick with something darker. “She’s the queen I’m keeping locked in my castle.”
Frankie leaned back, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You’re staking a lot on her breaking the way you want.”
“She doesn’t have to break,” I murmured. “She just has to realize there’s no way out.”
Silence stretched between us for a moment, before Frankie sighed and stubbed out his cigarette. “I’ll make the arrangements. However, this merger with Eastwood BioPharma can’t take another scandal,” Frankie warned. “The board’s already skittish about your image.”
“Then they’ll be reassured when I debut a fiancée, and a clean public record,” I said smoothly. “No one asks what happens behind closed doors, as long as the stocks keep climbing.” I swirled the last of my whiskey, staring out at the skyline.
Zara thought she was fighting me.
She didn’t realize the game had already been played.
And I had already won.