Page 40 of His to Claim (The Owner’s Club #2)

Delilah

It's three in the morning, and I'm lying in Graham's guest bed staring at the ceiling, my phone pressed to my ear as I whisper into the darkness.

"Tell me everything," Iris says without preamble, her voice sharp with the kind of alert tension that comes from being woken up by an emergency call.

"The Hunt happened. Graham claimed me—sort of. It's complicated." I shift under the expensive sheets, hyperaware that he's sleeping just down the hall. "But that's not the important part."

"What's the important part?"

"Graham pulled a gun on three Club members. There's going to be a disciplinary hearing. And he's acting like a completely different person than the man I've been working with for weeks."

Iris is quiet for a moment. "Different how?"

"Possessive. Controlling. He basically demanded I move in with him permanently, and when I refused, he acted like I didn't have a choice in the matter." I lower my voice even further. "It's like a switch flipped, and suddenly he's talking about ownership and claiming and all this caveman bullshit."

"That's... concerning."

"Right? Which is why I need you to dig deeper into his background. There's clearly something I'm missing about Graham Ellsworth, and I can't figure out how to handle him if I don't know what I'm dealing with."

"Delilah." Iris's voice carries a warning. "I know you think you're being strategic, but from where I'm sitting, it sounds like you're getting way too invested in understanding a man who's supposed to be nothing more than a payday."

"I can't break him enough to get him to do what we want if I don't understand what makes him tick," I say, the lie rolling off my tongue. "This isn't about investment. It's about information."

"Is it? Because you've been making a lot of decisions lately that suggest otherwise."

I bite back the defensive response that wants to spill out. Iris is right, and we both know it, but admitting that feels like admitting I've lost control of the entire situation.

"Just look into his history, okay? Business deals, personal relationships, anything that might explain this Jekyll and Hyde routine he's pulling."

"Fine. But I'm telling you right now—if this gets any more complicated, we're calling it off and disappearing. I don't care how much money is potentially on the table."

"It won't come to that."

"I don’t buy that, D. Because from what you're describing, Graham Ellsworth isn't just some bored billionaire anymore. He sounds like a man who's decided you belong to him, and men like that don't usually let go willingly."

The words send a chill down my spine because they echo my own fears.

The Graham I met at the charity auction was charming, dangerous, but ultimately playful.

The man who cornered me against his office door was possessive but still controlled.

Tonight's version feels like something else entirely—something that might be genuinely dangerous if crossed.

"Speaking of dangerous men," I say, steering the conversation away from territory I'm not ready to explore, "any word on Stanley Torrino lately? After Leon chased off his enforcer at Graham's office, I've been wondering if they've backed off or if they're just planning something bigger."

"I haven't seen any obvious signs of surveillance lately," Iris admits. "But that doesn't mean they're gone. Men like Torrino don't just forget about two million dollars and the humiliation that went with losing it."

"So we're still assuming they're out there somewhere."

"We're still assuming they're extremely motivated to find you and make you pay. Which is another reason why getting more deeply involved with Graham Ellsworth is a terrible idea. You're already dealing with one dangerous man who wants to own you—do you really need two?"

"Stanley wants to hurt me. Graham wants to protect me. There's a difference."

"Possession is possession, Delilah. The motivation might be different, but the end result is the same—you lose your freedom."

I don't have a good answer for that, partly because she's right and partly because I'm no longer sure what I want my freedom to look like. A week ago, the plan was simple: con Graham out of enough money to disappear permanently, start fresh somewhere Stanley Torrino would never find me. Now...

Now I'm lying in his guest room at three in the morning, wearing his robe, analyzing his psychological profile like he's a puzzle I need to solve rather than a problem I need to escape.

"Just look into his background," I say again. "Personal history, business relationships, anything that might explain why he went from charming flirtation to primitive claiming behavior in the span of a few hours."

"I'll see what I can find. But Delilah? Promise me you're not going to do anything stupid while I'm researching."

"Define stupid."

"Anything that involves believing you can change or fix or save Graham Ellsworth. Men like him don't get saved—they just find new ways to be dangerous."

"I'm not trying to save him."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

The honest answer is that I don't know anymore. Somewhere between the charity auction and tonight's Hunt, the lines have blurred beyond recognition.

"I'm trying to survive," I say finally. "Same as always."

"Okay. But remember—survival sometimes means knowing when to run."

After we hang up, I lie in the darkness listening to the sounds of the city forty some-odd floors below and trying to figure out when everything got so complicated. The plan was supposed to be simple. Seduce the mark, gain access to his resources, take what I needed, disappear.

Instead, I'm caught between a vengeful crime boss who wants me dead and a billionaire who's decided I belong to him. Neither option feels particularly safe, but at least with Graham, the danger comes with expensive sheets and protection from external threats.

My phone buzzes with a text message, and for a moment I think it might be Graham, checking on me from his room down the hall. Instead, it's from a number I don't recognize:

Enjoying your new accommodations? They won't protect you forever.

My blood turns to ice. Stanley's people have found me again, despite Graham's security, despite the careful precautions we've taken. They know where I am right now, in this moment.

I delete the message and turn my phone completely off, but the damage is done. They're still out there, still hunting, still planning whatever revenge they have in mind.

Which means Graham might be right about one thing—I might actually need his protection more than I want to admit.

Even if accepting it means accepting everything else that comes with it.

Including the possibility that I'm not just his temporary amusement anymore. That somewhere in the space of a few weeks, I've become something he's willing to fight for.

As I finally drift off to sleep in Graham's guest room, surrounded by his scent and his security and his inexplicable certainty that I belong to him, I realize I might be about to find out.