Page 19

Perched behind the wheel, I could sense her tension, anxiety, and maybe even fear. She was silent all through the drive to the prison, her hands clasped on her lap and her gaze fixed on some point beyond the windshield. Her silence spoke volumes, punctuated by the faint rustle of her fingers drumming against her thighs.

Her jaw was set in a determined line, the delicate muscles of her throat contracting as she swallowed hard. Scarlett’s breath hitched, her chest heaving slowly as if steeling herself for what lay ahead.

My lips curled into a self-satisfied grin, anticipating the drama that would unfold at the prison. I knew what her fear and anxiety were about; I knew why she was so tense. Scarlett wasn’t sure how she was going to face her father—how she’d look him in the eye after sleeping with the man who put him there.

This should be fun to watch.

While driving, I would steal momentarily glances in her direction—the front passenger seat—drinking in her beauty. Her red hair fell loosely over her shoulders, her green eyes complementing the color of her top. She wore a pair of black jeans and a set of black stilettos that added to her overall look. The scent of her feminine perfume was intoxicating, drawing me in like steel to a magnet.

She just sat there, lost in thought, staring blankly into space, her mind reeling with a million possible ways this could go wrong. She must hate me right now, but that hatred was the catalyst for our relationship.

As I steered the vehicle down the unwinding road, my eyes darted toward her in a fleeting second. “Nervous?” I teased.

She shot a quick glare at me, her eyes narrowing and her brows knitting together. “Like you care,” she muttered, her tone laced with disdain.

I chuckled, eyes back on the road. “You’re right. I don’t.”

“Then stop fucking asking,” she spat.

“Temper, temper, printsessa ,” I said, slightly mocking. “Language.”

She turned to face me, her eyes blazing red and a scowl flashing across her features. “Let’s get something clear, Daniel,” she began, her voice dripping with venom. “I know what game you’re playing. I know what your intentions are, and I do not trust you—never have, never will.”

My brows shot up, a dismissive chuckle escaping my lips. “Fair enough.”

She clenched her jaw, her scowl deepening. She was clearly aggravated by the smirk on my face. “You’re unbelievable,” she hissed, turning her eyes away from me.

My gaze lingered on her profile, eyes crinkling at the corners as I smiled to myself. Despite the feisty front she put up, I detected a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface. Amused, I draped my arm over the back of her seat, my fingers grazing the bare skin of her shoulder. Her body vibrated like my touch had sent shivers down her spine.

Scarlett exhaled quietly, shifting away and withdrawing her body from her hand. However, there was nowhere else to escape; she was trapped in the car with me.

I stared at her in silence, drinking in the series of emotions darting across her features before pulling back my hand. My gaze returned to the road, and I steered the car down a gentle slope.

Scarlett was fighting a losing battle. Eventually, she would succumb and face her new reality. But until then, I was determined to enjoy every moment of her torment.

***

Our shoes clicked against the worn linoleum floor as we approached the prison’s visiting room, a sterile, soulless space with stark white walls and an eerie silence. Scarlett’s chest heaved slowly the further in we went. Her fingers fidgeted, her palms were greasy, and droplets of cold sweat dotted her forehead.

Her body was tense, and even a blind man could sense her nervousness. Her breath hitched, and her chest heaved, meaning her heart was likely pounding like a drum in her chest.

Scarlett’s eyes darted across the ominous space, taking in the unpleasant sight around her. Her throat wobbled as she swallowed hard, her jaw tightening.

The air was heavy with the scent of disinfectant, the faint smell of sweat, and the distant tang of despair. There were blood stains on the floor and some parts of the walls as well. They looked fresh, and my best guess was that they were from a recent altercation or fight between inmates or perhaps inmates and prison guards. This was a wild place, a place reserved for society’s worst of the worst. Anything was possible in this dangerous hellhole.

The freshness of the stains suggested that the incident may have occurred within the past few hours or even more recently.

The look of horror on Scarlett’s face was priceless! At some point, considering the heaviness of her breath, I thought she was going to pass out. However, she kept going.

“First time in a prison?” I teased, stealing a glance in her direction as we followed up behind the guard.

She tightened her jaw but didn’t give a response.

“You can smell it, can’t you?” I continued. “That foul stench of pain, suffering, agony, and despair.”

She shot a quick glare in my direction, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Still thinking my mansion is a hellhole?” I teased, ignoring the scowl on her face. “You have no idea what it’s like to be trapped in a real one.” I halted beside her as the guard opened another door. “Why don’t you ask dear old Daddy to explain to you the things he’s had to endure?” I added, my voice calm but menacing, laced with a glint of mockery.

Her face twisted into a frown, her jaw tightening as she cast me a venomous glance, hatred and anger flickering in her gaze.

With a smirk on my lips, I looked away from her, my attention shifting to the interior of the room.

At the end of the space was a glass partition behind which Sean O’Sullivan sat, clad in the prison’s red uniform. His eyes blazed with fury as he glared at me, fingers tightly gripping the phone clasped to his ear. Sean’s face and forehead were etched with deep creases, a testament to his hatred for me.

“Dad,” Scarlett muttered under her breath, her eyes misting and a wave of emotions washing over her.

Sean’s eyes darted to his daughter, and his expression softened ever so slightly.

With a hand in my pocket, I strolled over to the partition and sank into the chair in front of him, my eyes glinting with amusement and satisfaction. Scarlett sat beside me, her gaze fixed on her father, with subtly trembling lips. Seeing him in chains, surrounded by armed men dictating his every move, must have shattered her heart.

Sean’s rugged face was mapped with bruises, and a thin, crusty seam of dried blood etched the curve of his lower lip, hinting at a recent brutal encounter. The man had a lot of enemies in here—enemies he had put away for one reason or another.

I bet a couple of them had decided to toil with the man responsible for their imprisonment. However, Sean was a force to be reckoned with—a rugged son of a bitch who wouldn’t go down so easily. If he was this roughed up, then the other guys would be in far worse conditions.

Sean’s eyes, red-rimmed and sunken, burned with a fierce intensity that was enough to make an average man shit his pants. But I was no average man. No. I was the motherfucker who put him in here in the first place.

I grabbed the phone and clasped it to my ear, my lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Hello, Sean,” I began, locking eyes with him. “You really should take better care of yourself. You’re starting to look like a punching bag.”

“Son of a bitch—I swear to God I’ll kill you,” he spewed, his voice dripping with venom.

“Temper, temper, Sean,” I said, a glint of amusement dancing in my eyes. Leaning back in my chair, I steepled my fingers together and continued. “You know what they say, ‘Prison’s not just a place, it’s a state of mind.’ Looks like you’re embracing it wholeheartedly.”

His glare was ice-cold, and his jaw tightened. “I want to speak with my daughter.”

I casually drummed my fingers on the countertop. “Do you mean my wife?”

Sean’s face turned beet red with rage as he slammed his fist against the glass partition, making it shudder and rattle. The sound, like a crack of thunder, caused Scarlett to flinch, her eyes widening in alarm.

That instant, the guards sprang into action, rushing over to restrain Sean as he pounded against the glass over and over, cursing at me.

“You bastard!” he barked, struggling against the men as they forced him back into the chair.

All the while, I remained calm and unfazed, my signature smirk perched on my lips. I watched him struggle, raining curses and threatening to end me. Oh, I loved messing with the O’Sullivans!

I turned over to Scarlett, my hand snapping out to trail a finger down the nape of her neck, and my eyes shifted back to Sean. A small, mocking smile played on my lips, a gentle reminder of the truth none of us could deny: She was mine now.

Scarlett was shaking like a leaf, her body rejecting my touch, uncomfortable by my action. She sprang to her feet and tried to jerk away, but I was quick to grasp her wrist before she could take a step further.

“Sit,” I said to her, my tone soft yet laced with authority.

She hesitated for a moment, but eventually, she complied, lowering her head in embarrassment.

I needed Sean to see the extent to which I could control his beloved daughter—the kind of power I had over her. He needed to be reminded of who the hell was in charge here. The O’Sullivans were in the palm of my hands, and I was the one who could decide their fate. I needed that fact to sink into Sean’s thick skull.

He sat on the other side, his eyes blazing with rage, but there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. Sean was trapped, defenseless, with no one coming to save him from me.

“This is all on you, O’Sullivan,” I said to him, my tone calm and smooth. “You should have done the right thing when Liam crossed that line.”

His jaw tightened, and his scowl deepened. “I’d like to speak with my daughter now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I leaned forward, staring right into those red-rimmed eyes of his. “Rephrase your statement,” I demanded.

His fingers curled into a fist, and his face turned crimson, a lone vein lining his forehead.

My eyes bore deeper into his, my expression dark and menacing. “Go ahead, O’Sullivan. Say it.”

His hands trembled with anger, and his eyes misted like his daughter’s as he struggled to accept defeat. It was meaningless to fight. I’d already won this battle. I was in control here. Me .

His throat wobbled as he finally swallowed his pride, his voice faint and weak. “I’d like to speak with your wife now.”

My lips curled into a sly, triumphant grin as I reclined in my chair. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If given a gun right now, Sean would put a fucking bullet through my skull without a moment of hesitation. That was how much he hated me. I, on the other hand, didn’t give two shits about how he felt about me. His hatred and that of his ridiculously attractive daughter meant nothing to me. In fact, I loved it; I loved that they loathed me. I loved the fury I stirred up within them.

I turned toward Scarlett, savoring the disdain in her eyes, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.

The fact that I could control their emotions meant that I could control their behavior—their lives. What was more fun than that?