Page 36

OPHELIA

W hat pulls me out of my sleep isn’t the fact that I’m well-rested.

I’m nowhere near energized or alive.

Exhausted is what I am.

Heavy limbs. Heavier eyelids.

My shoulder blade.

The area over it burns, or more like tingles. A constant hum running along my back.

That’s why I woke up in the dead of night. On this couch, I think. It definitely isn’t James’s bed. Or the one in the cell. Thank God for that.

I can’t remember how I got here, what this constant pressure on my back is, or why my shoulder blade doesn’t move freely.

Why I have a pad on it.

Then they hit me, the flashbacks.

James fucking me. James hunting me down. Terrorizing me. Comforting me.

Owning me.

Branding me.

And I thanked him for it. The words were just there, on my tongue. Couldn’t take them back if I wanted to.

I don’t.

My new reality is better than I could’ve ever imagined.

We could have that all the time. We could be a couple. Two broken people who make sense together.

Being a part of his life is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Being his.

He might have secrets. He’s also cruel, psychotic, and unpredictable.

But he was made for me. I was made for him.

Every desire I’ve had that I couldn’t name, it’s him.

“Pet.”

This isn’t Sonnet , nor is it Ophelia or property .

Pet.

He’s starting to warm up to me.

Even the room senses it, the temperature rising at the change of his voice. The change in him .

This isn’t flames crackling in the fireplace. It’s got nothing to do with the heated floors.

It’s him.

“Come here.”

The impulse to get up and run to him is immense. I won’t. I have to play it smart. There’s so much about him that I still don’t know. So many secrets. Layers that need peeling.

Giving myself to him with abandon could be dangerous. He could choose to keep me in the dark. I’m not afraid that he would; I’d just really rather he wouldn’t.

“Hey.” I sit on the couch, my feet resting on the soft rug.

We’re in the den, I see it now. Topher showed me the room the first time I was here.

“Ophelia.” He’s seated behind his desk. Big.

Imposing. Regal. There are bookshelves behind him.

The fireplace is to his right. A wet bar at the corner of the room.

And him. His presence shuts the world out.

“You’re making a habit of defying me. We’re supposed to be past the point of punishing you.

Especially while you’re healing. I will punish you, though.

Trust that I will if you don’t come here right this second. ”

It’s criminal for a man to be this mesmerizing when he’s threatening me. But James is. James nails it.

Another surge of warmth bursts inside my chest. I tug on the hem of this shirt that isn’t mine. Scrape my teeth along my bottom lip.

His icy cold eyes zone in on the movement.

Yes.

Yes.

“So…” I start. He leans forward an inch. Barely. “You’ll punish me if I stay here, on the couch. Does that mean you’ll reward me if I obey?”

“Hmm.” His lips press into a thin line. “You’re negotiating. Last I checked, properties aren’t allowed to bargain.” He gestures toward the room. “The fire warms me without asking for anything in return. This couch, it doesn’t tell me it’s doing me a favor by letting you sit on it.”

My thighs clench at his impassive voice. At the degradation.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you haven’t fucked the fireplace. Or this couch.” I drag my toes over the rug. “Did you ever come in them? On them?”

The slightest hint of a smile curls his lips up. I get less than a second to witness it. “Your point being?”

I haven’t realized he’s been crossing the room. He has, and he’s here, before me, with his hands on my waist, helping me up.

Infuriating man, so hot in a plain T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“That you fucked me.” Heat rushes up my neck. My cheeks burn. “I have your cum in my pussy. I’m sore, James. You fucked?—”

James crashes his lips to mine. Locks my throat in his hands. He groans, kissing me hard like he’s fighting me. Like he’s fighting himself.

“What an insolent piece of property I bought for myself.” Our foreheads press together, and one of his hands delves into my hair. Pulling me back. Stopping me from finding his lips again, from getting another soul-stealing kiss. “You’re lucky, though, pet.”

“Why?” I grab his T-shirt. Tug on it to drag him to me. He won’t budge an inch. “Because I’m the only one you branded? Or were there others? Should I be jealous of the armchair in your bedroom?”

“No, I don’t brand my armchairs. Or any other furniture.” I’m being swooped off the ground. It doesn’t go unnoticed that his hands and arms aren’t touching my wound. That he’s taking extra care not to hurt me. “I do find it adorable that you’re jealous. I told you before. You shouldn’t be.”

His words, as he carries me to the chair behind his desk, are sweet. Really sweet.

The voice with which he says them is the same as always. Cold. Detached. What a constant mind-fuck. What a thrilling roller coaster.

“Of anyone?”

“Of anyone.” We’re seated in his wide leather chair, where he cradles me in his lap. He strokes my thighs, supporting me by bracing his arm around my back. “How are you?”

I’ve been asked this question numerous times over the years. Never like this. He truly cares, is truly curious, and it’s shocking. Tears spring from my eyes. I’m working hard on reining them in.

“I’m…I’m fine.”

A nod. “Your back?”

“You scarred me.”

“We discussed this.” He hugs me deeper into his warmth. “I branded you. You’re mine.”

“Then you patched me up.”

“In our bedroom.”

Our.

A chill runs up my spine. I don’t let it show. “You wiped me clean and dressed me up.”

“And bathed you before that.”

“You carried me into this room.”

“The den,” he confirms. “Yes.”

“You were about to tell me something about yourself when you called me over here.” I sneak a glance at the desk. At the neatly arranged folders spread on top of it. All of them are closed. “Right?”

“You’re right. And to…” He clears his throat, firming the mask of impassiveness on his face. “Hold you.”

It’s my turn to nod. To let him talk.

Anything but show how deeply it affects me.

I’m afraid that if I do, this moment could burst into flames.

I like this moment just fine.

“Opening up…I don’t do that.” He rearranges me so my shoulder burrows deeper into his chest, then brushes my hair behind my back.

He’s hard beneath me. Violent, sexual energy bleeds from him, yet he remains stoic, glaring down at me.

“I locked away parts of my past and haven’t allowed anyone near them. ”

The way he emphasizes the word, anyone . My eyes widen. My eyebrows go up.

My heart is about to explode.

“Anyone,” he repeats. “But I’m sharing them with you. I want you to know.”

“I’m listening.” This is important. The pain in my back has subsided, and my entire attention is focused on James.

“First and foremost. I never raped a woman in my life.” His fingers trace paths along my arm. “You already know that I sent people to rescue the others. Well, not all of them. I couldn’t save Camden’s mother from Oliver. That one was beyond my reach, unfortunately.”

“But you tried? Even though she was locked up at his place?” I stare. I blink. I dig my fingers into his neck. When did they get there?

“Yes. The man I sent was the best one out there, and he said it wasn’t possible.

At least I had Topher’s mom nearby. I felt personally responsible for her, so I rescued her.

” His eyes go somewhere inside him for a moment.

“There were many side doors and hidden pathways in my father’s house.

A few of them lead to underground tunnels.

Just in case one of the people he extorted ever tried to get back at him.

When he ordered me to kill her, I fired at the bed she delivered our son on.

The blood from the birth was enough proof.

After that, I smuggled her out through one of the tunnels and gave her a briefcase containing over two million dollars in cash.

Money I’d collected throughout her pregnancy.

Told her to run and never look back. Never tell me where she was and to forget about Topher. That I’d keep him safe.”

Jealousy, hot and humiliating, detonates inside of me. “You said you didn’t like her.”

“I also said you shouldn’t be jealous.” He shakes his head, moving his hand from beneath my thighs to grab my chin.

“I felt nothing but sympathy for her. No love, no attraction. Nothing. She was the one who’d been chasing me.

When my father told me it was time, I went for it.

Once I told her what had to be done, she agreed.

She begged me to go through with it, to choose her.

She trusted that we would figure it out later.

Oliver and I couldn’t go against our fathers before our sons were born.

They had to come to this world so our fathers would give us the combination to their safes.

Where they hid their secrets. Their power.

Without that, it would’ve been a free-for-all.

Oliver and I would’ve been taken down. The wealthy and corrupt enjoyed the services our families offered.

But we’ve been holding on to too many secrets for far too long.

Take that away, and we’re as good as dead. ”

A chill seeps beneath my clothes. I scoot closer to him.