Page 114 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

My mind flipped about like a fish on a hook. “Is that why you raped him?”

“Raped him?” Steyne repeated, with a blink of what seemed to be genuine bemusement. “What a nonsensical notion.”

“He was fourteen.”

He fixed me with those rust-flecked silver eyes of his. “I must say I’m disappointed, Arden. Your views are so terribly parochial.”

“There’s nothing parochial in thinking it’s wrong to fuck kids.”

At which pointed he smiled at me. He goddamnsmiled. “Nonetheless, I do enjoy your spirit.”

“Yeah, well.” I folded my arms. “I don’t enjoy you at all.”

“That will change in time. We have much to offer each other.”

“You have nothing I want.”

“You know”—he took a sip of what I hoped was dreadful tea—“that isn’t true.”

I was having anif looks could killmoment except, sadly, my glares weren’t up to the task. “If you mean Caspian, he isn’t yours to give. And he’s with Nathaniel now.”

“Do you really think I would allow that pompous little puritan to keep something I’ve put so much effort into creating?”

“You didn’t create him. You abused him.”

“I don’t believe that distinction is as meaningful as you think it is.” He put down the tea and leaned forward on the sofa, hands clasped lightly over his knee. “Now, listen very carefully. Nathaniel Priest paid me a visit a few days ago, quite distraught and utterly convinced that Caspian was falling back into, how can I put this,old habits.”

It took me a moment to make sense of this. Okay, I needed way more than a moment. “I have, like, a million questions already but let’s start with: Why the fuck would he go to the guy who raped his fiancé?”

“It’s true Nathaniel and I have never seen eye-to-eye, but he did seem rather desperate, and nobody knows Caspian as I do.”

“You must have fucking loved that.”

“I’ll admit”—Steyne offered a self-satisfied smile—“to a certainschadenfreude. Nathaniel is, after all, both odious and tedious, a particularly unpleasant combination. Although on this occasion, I almost pitied him. He lives in so small a world.”

“Is this going somewhere?” I asked.

“It will be”—Steyne’s voice had acquired a sharper edge—“when you stop interrupting. The point is, Nathaniel was behaving erratically. So much so that I was concerned he might do something rash.”

I did not like the way this was going. And for someone who complained about being interrupted, Steyne wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information. “Rash how?”

“Well…” The bastard paused for a long moment that I rode out through gritted teeth. “He somehow got it into his head that Caspian could never be free of me, or of you, until he could be made to see how deeply his needs could hurt people.”

“Yeah, well, Nathaniel’s been saying that for years.”

“I think, in this instance, he’s decided that actions will speak louder than words.”

Okay, now I was officially panicking. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means”—another infuriating pause—“that he intends to show Caspian the other side of his desires by subjecting him to the kinds of punishments he has taken such pleasure in inflicting on others.” Pause. “In public.” Pause. “At a sex party.” Pause. “Tonight.”

The nebulous dread that had been pooling in my stomach since Lancaster had invited himself into my house coalesced instantly into a monster of pure dismay. I tried to say something useful but all that happened was frantic noise.

“I believe,” continued Steyne placidly, “Nathaniel thought it would be best to conduct the demonstration on neutral ground. Apparently, he has objections to the room I built for Caspian.”

I stared at him—my face probably contorted into a series of horrified cartoon circles. “This is…what even is this? It’s a terrible plan.”

“Oh, I agree.” Steyne smoothed the edge of one perfectly manicured nail. “I expect Caspian will be rather damaged by the experience.”