Page 61 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)

My arms pulled her close instinctively—a harbor in the tempest for both of us. “Mia… talk to me.”

She pushed back gently, her resolve waning under my plea. “Andy… It’s not important.”

But it was—the marks on her body screamed it loud and clear.

“Sex, Mia!” The word felt like acid on my tongue. “These are from sex—intense… sex.”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of crimson with every syllable that left my mouth.

“Not… not that intense,” she whispered.

The puzzle pieces clicked into place with an icy certainty—James Maxwell.

“It was him,” I said, voice leaden with accusation and disbelief. “Mr. Maxwell?”

She nodded once—confirmation that sliced through me.

She looked up at me then—vulnerable yet somehow unbroken beneath it all.

“Mia,” I began again, desperation edging every word. “What kind of contract did you sign with Mr. Maxwell? I know I said I’d fix things before you left… But now…”

“It’s nothing,” she repeated wearily.

“No!” My voice cracked with urgency. “It’s never nothing.” Her constant understatements were like cracks in armor—seemingly insignificant but ultimately fatal.

Her sigh filled the room as she finally relented. “Me,” she said simply. “I signed myself over for two million.”

Confusion reeled in my mind like a drunken carousel. “What? Say that again?”

“I’m his mistress now,” she clarified quietly, eyes downcast. “In exchange for the two million.”

Staring at her in disbelief felt like watching our childhood dreams crumble into dust before my eyes.

“Damn it!” The word was more prayer than curse now—a desperate plea to whatever powers might be listening for strength not to break down then and there. “This is because of me…”

She cut me off softly but firmly, grounding us both back in reality with her words about the debt and what had transpired last night.

A deep breath steadied me—somewhat—as resolve hardened within me like fresh concrete setting under fire. My gaze bored into hers as if trying to transfer some of that resolve directly into her soul. “I’m going to fix everything, Mia. Trust me.”

She gave a small nod.

“Get changed,” I instructed gently before turning toward the door once more.

“Andy? Where are you going?” Her voice trailed after me—tinged with concern and something else… fear?

“Personal business,” I answered over my shoulder as I strode out into what would undoubtedly be one hell of a day.

I strutted down the corridor, my jaw set in determination, my footsteps echoing like a drumbeat heralding war, Bruno and Tyrone looming behind me like my own personal twin mountains of muscle.

The lush carpet swallowed the sound, but not the fury that spurred me on.

I didn’t bother knocking; subtlety wasn’t a luxury I could afford—not today.

I barged into Matt’s office like a tempest, unannounced and unavoidable.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of money and machinations. Matt and James lounged on the sofa like two kings in their court. They were neck-deep in business talk—the kind that shapes destinies or breaks them.

My gaze locked on to James, and Matt turned to me, his expression one of mild annoyance giving way to concern.

“Andy?” he said, one eyebrow arching as if my presence was a puzzle he couldn’t quite piece together.

I brushed off Matt with a flicker of my eyes and faced James. Inhaling sharply, I summoned all my wit and gall. “Mr. Maxwell, fancy discussing a certain damsel in distress?”

James observed me with that stoic stillness of his, but there was no mistaking the curiosity that sparked behind those cool eyes. He rose from his seat with all the leisure of a man who had never rushed for anything or anyone.

“Mia,” he prompted, folding his arms over his chest as if to shield himself from whatever storm I might unleash.

“She mentioned a little arrangement she’s made with you,” I said, voice steady but hands betraying me with their tremble.

“And?” His voice was flat—a poker face in verbal form.

“Consider this my formal request for an annulment of that particular agreement,” I declared with more bravado than sense.

His lips twitched—was that amusement? “Why would I entertain such a notion?”

I steeled myself for the sacrificial offer. “Well, how about swapping her out for someone less… sisterly? Someone like me?”

Matt’s patience snapped like cheap china. “What deranged soap opera have you been binge-watching?” His roar filled the room as he marched toward me, hands clenching into fists at his sides. He gripped my chin with surprising gentleness for such an angry god. “Explain yourself.”

His breath was hot against my skin; I could feel the tempest brewing in him. But my resolve was ironclad; this was about Mia’s safety—my fear for her eclipsed any fright at Matt’s wrath.

“This doesn’t concern you,” I spat out with ice to match his fire.

Matt’s sneer was almost impressive. “To hell it doesn’t!” His teeth were practically grinding dust. “You think you can just waltz in here and offer yourself up to James?”

I shoved him back; there was no time for his tantrums. “I’m deadly serious.” Turning back to James, I laid it all bare. “Please… She’s seen enough darkness for a lifetime.”

James looked at me then—really looked at me—as if seeing past the facade for the first time. “What are you on about?” he asked, voice tinged with something unrecognizable—concern? Doubt? “I’m not in the market for another contract.” His refusal was absolute, leaving no room for argument or hope.

As James turned on his heel, intent on escaping the uncomfortable truth of our little domestic drama, I found a spark of something wild in my chest. Maybe it was desperation or maybe just good old-fashioned sibling fury, but I darted around the room and planted myself firmly between him and the door.

“Please, Mr. Maxwell,” I said, my voice threaded with a mix of pleading and audacity. “Let’s ink a new deal. Featuring yours truly.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of James’ mouth—a silent taunt that irked me. “Our last business venture ended in quite the spectacle,” he quipped. “You sure you’re ready for an encore?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks—embarrassment or anger, take your pick—but I held my ground. “My sister, Mia,” I said, voice tight but determined. “She’s seen more nightmares than most see in a lifetime.”

James exhaled slowly, clearly not in the mood for my dramatics. “Andy,” he said with measured patience, “I respect your spirit, but Mia made her choice.”

I shook my head vehemently; understanding was a luxury he could afford but one that eluded me entirely. “No, Mr. Maxwell, you’re missing the damn point! Mia’s been to hell and back—” Frustration clipped my words short.

Matt’s interest piqued; his gaze shifted between us like he was watching a tennis match.

James’ frown deepened into something more akin to concern. “What is it?” he pressed. “Mia doesn’t deserve what exactly?”

The accusation spilled from me before I could temper it with tact. “You’re bruising her,” I accused bluntly. “And not just her ego.”

One of James’ eyebrows arched in challenge. “We’re adults engaging in consensual activities,” he retorted coolly. “Surely you’re not so na?ve.”

My stomach twisted at his words; bile rose in my throat as images flashed behind my eyes—images I’d tried to bury deep down where they couldn’t poison daylight thoughts.

“I’m painfully aware of what consensual activities entail,” I bit out through clenched teeth. “But Mia… She’s fragile in ways you can’t imagine.”

James leaned in slightly, his interest piqued despite himself. “Why?” The single word hung between us like a challenge.

I sighed heavily; secrets were weights that only grew heavier with time.

“It’s our Uncle Herbert,” I confessed—a whisper carrying years of shadows.

James waited silently, giving me space to weave the narrative he needed to hear.

“He terrorized her…” I admitted with a rawness that felt like ripping off a scab. “The whips were just foreplay for him.”

Disgust painted James’ features dark as storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

“And?” His voice was steel wrapped in velvet—a dangerous combination.

“She was molested by him.” The words fell like leaden weights from my tongue.

I held back the fact that when the abuse escalated, I’d always stepped in as his target instead.

That information wasn’t necessary for James or Matt.

Those shadows were mine alone, not yet prepared to see the light of day.

“Fuck!” James exploded with a venom that echoed off the walls.

Matt’s eyes had turned into twin coals—dark and burning with an intensity that felt like it could set fire to rain.

“She never mentioned this,” James muttered more to himself than anyone else.

Surprise flickered across my face at his visceral reaction. “Why would she broadcast her trauma? It’s not exactly a badge of honor.”

James looked like he’d swallowed acid, and Matt—well, his eyes were two black holes sucking in all the light.

I squared my shoulders, my heart hammering a frenzied rhythm against my ribs. “So, how about it?” I quipped, voice laced with faux innocence. “Will you let her go and take me instead? Pinky promise I’ll be a good pet.”

James rubbed his chin, deep in thought, while Matt looked like a volcano on the brink of eruption.

“Be a good pet?” Matt’s voice was as sharp as broken glass. “What the hell does that mean, Andy?”

I waved a dismissive hand, even as my heart hammered against my rib cage. “Matt, it’s just a business contract, alright? Your nose doesn’t belong in this mess.”

“What?” He sneered with enough sarcasm to drown an elephant. “Selling your skin for your sister’s shackles? Oh, how very noble.”

Before I could brace myself, his hand latched on to my arm like a vise and propelled me onto the sofa. I landed with an oomph, air puffing out of my lungs in surprise.

James loomed over me like an avenging angel minus the mercy. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Andy. As I said, no new contracts.” His gaze raked over me. “Especially not with pretty boys who stir up storms. I’m not Matt.” He looked at Matt. “Deal with him, will you?”

Matt’s grin unfurled slowly—predatory and filled with dark promise as he shed his suit jacket.

James exited with a decisive click of the door shutting behind him, leaving me to face the storm that was Matt—tie unraveling from around his neck like the coils of some exotic serpent that screamed danger. His eyes—dark and stormy—promised retribution.

“Shit!” The expletive tumbled from my lips as I scrambled back on the couch cushions, every instinct screaming at me to flee.

But Matt was quicker—more determined than any force I’d reckoned with before.

He pinned me before I could make my escape, his weight a solid proclamation of intent.

Then he descended on me—a hurricane made flesh—his lips crashing against mine in a ferocious kiss that obliterated thought and stole breath from my lungs.

It was a feral claiming, a brutal declaration—a storm that swept me up and left me gasping for air, my head spinning with a cocktail of fear and arousal.

There was no escaping his savagery, no shelter from the onslaught of his indignant passion.

I tried to push him off, to squirm out from under his weight, but he was immovable—a mountain anchoring me to the depths of the desire that simmered between us.

“Ngh…” The sound was torn from my throat, a futile protest against the tide of his dominance.

I fought against him, or at least, my pride told me I did.

But my struggles were as effective as a leaf trying to stem the flow of a raging river.

Matt pinned me to the couch, his body a solid mass of muscle and deliberation.

When he finally released my throbbing lips, I lay there, dazed and breathless, staring up at the tempest that was Matt Caine.

His grin was feral, his eyes alight with a fiery possessiveness that both terrified and excited me.

“You think you can betray me, pet, and run off to another man—my best friend, no less?” he growled, his breath hot against my skin.

“It seems I’ve been too kind to you. Perhaps you need a lesson in loyalty. ”

He was right, and I knew it. I had been dancing on the edge of a knife, flirting with danger, and now the blade had cut deep.

“Go fuck yourself,” I spat back, my voice dripping with all the sarcasm I could muster, even as my heart raced.

Matt’s eyes darkened to the color of a tempestuous sea, and before I could draw another breath, his lips were on mine once more.

This kiss was even more brutal, his tongue a conquering force as it plundered my mouth.

I was powerless to resist, my body betraying me as it responded to his touch, my own tongue meeting his with a fervor that matched his intensity.

“You’re already hard,” he murmured against my lips, a dark grin spreading across his face as he slipped his hand into my jeans, fingers curling around my length with a possessive grip that made me see stars.

“What a little slut you are, pet. Your body’s so horny you can’t even hold out for one morning without me. ”

I gritted my teeth, a groan escaping my lips despite my efforts to remain stoic. My body was a traitor, responding to his touch with a desperation that left me feeling both furious and helpless.