Page 8 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

CLARY

L ucky storms off, and I wrap my arms around my body, knowing what’s about to happen. The moment the door clicks shut behind him, Rory rounds on me, his eyes ablaze, jaw clenched tight. I can feel the fury rolling off him in waves.

“You had one fucking job, Clary. One job!” He steps forward, and I back up, hands reaching out for the knob. “You were supposed to get me the intel on the client and you missed the most important fucking detail. How?”

My fingers dig into my arms, trying to keep myself grounded, to keep the frustration and anger inside.

“I did everything you asked,” I snap at him, meeting his gaze squarely. “I looked into Veridex. I dug into them. I turned over every rock and pebble out there. If there was anything connecting Mr. Veridan to Volkov, they did a damned good job of hiding it!”

“And yet Lucky knew.”

“Because he heard things!” I shoot back. “He knew the rumors. Do you expect me to chase down every whisper, every rumor or ghost story that passes by? Maybe I should have checked whether Mr. Veridan’s great-uncle’s cousin’s best friend once looked at Volkov the wrong way too.”

The tic in his jaw comes back. “I can’t believe you failed this one simple task.”

“Oh, good,” I say, a half-laugh escaping me. “Another endless stream of praise from my boss. God. I can’t win. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, it’s never good enough for you. Never right. You’ll always find something I missed, something I fucked up.”

His lips curl into a sneer. “You want me to lie to you? Pat you on the head and tell you you’re doing a great job when you keep screwing up?”

I laugh, sharp and humorless. “Oh, please. Go ahead, list all my failures, Rory. I know you want to.”

His eyes darken. “You lost the shipment in Brooklyn. You miscalculated the number of men we needed for the Donovan job. You let O’Malley’s rat slip through our fingers. And now this?—”

“You son of a bitch.” The words rip from me before I can stop them, and something inside me snaps.

The little bubble, the fragile thing I’ve been holding in, shatters completely.

I step closer, shoving a finger into his chest. “If I’m so fucking pathetic, if I’m so goddamn useless, then why did you sleep with me? ”

Rory freezes.

I see it—the flicker of something in his expression, the briefest moment of hesitation before his mask slams back into place.

I press on, voice rising, anger clawing its way free. “If I’m so weak, such a fucking disappointment, why would you ever debase yourself like that? Huh? Why?”

His breath hitches, just slightly, but I don’t give him a chance to recover.

“Tell me, Rory,” I demand, voice shaking now, but not with fear. With rage. With something raw and festering and done. “Why was I good enough for that, but not good enough for this?”

Silence stretches between us, thick, suffocating.

Something ugly cracks inside, confirming all my worst fears. “Do it,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “Just fucking punish me and get it over with. If I’m really so fucking awful, you might as well.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Rory mutters.

A humorless laugh pushes past my throat. “At this point, I’m sure that you’re just dying to bend me over your knee and spank me for my incompetence, aren’t you?” I don’t even know what I’m saying, just that I’m angry enough to no longer care.

Rory reels back as though I’ve struck him, but he doesn’t look away. His eyes lock onto mine, dark and unreadable, but there’s something there—a flicker of something dangerous, something I can’t name. It sparks to life between us, simmering beneath the surface, daring me to reach for it.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and for the first time, I see hesitation. Rory Brannagan, speechless. I should savor the moment, should use it to my advantage. But I don’t. Because his silence isn’t just shock. It’s something else. Something that makes the air between us heavy and charged.

“Do you really want that?” His voice is quiet, rough, a low growl that sends a shiver racing down my spine. “You want me to punish you, Clary?”

The space between us shifts. The air thickens, heat curling around me, settling low in my belly. My breath hitches, and suddenly, I can’t move. It’s like gravity is pulling me toward him, unseen and irresistible.

I should be pissed. I should be shoving him away, spitting fire, throwing sharp words like daggers. But my skin tingles, my pulse quickens, and a slow, deep ache blooms inside me.

For a moment, neither of us moves. The only sound is the unsteady rise and fall of my breathing.

Then I force myself to scoff, shaking my head as if I can break whatever spell has wrapped itself around us. “You’re unbelievable,” I mutter, but the words lack their previous bite.

Rory takes a slow, deliberate step closer. “That wasn’t an answer.”

My mouth goes dry.

I should shut this down. I should walk away, call him an arrogant bastard, and leave in a huff.

So why don’t I?

I swallow hard, knowing the answer. Some part of me does want this. I want to surrender to him, to let him draw me close, to feel the heat of his touch as he bends me over his knee—exposed, raw, vulnerable—giving in to the control he wields so effortlessly.

And the worst part? The thought doesn’t scare me.

It excites me.

But I’m not ready to give in yet. I could push, crack this tension wide open. But some part of me is scared to try. I put on my best mask of nonchalance and curl my lip, a slow smirk spreading across my face.

“Yeah, right,” I say, my fingers trembling even as I force myself to pretend that I don’t care. “Please. You’d never do something like that. Punishing me would mean admitting you’re not always in control.”

His eyes darken. “Is that right?” he asks, taking another step forward. I don’t realize that I’ve backed up into the door until I feel the cool metal handle press against my back.

His gaze lowers, sharpening as he realizes that he’s got me literally back-to-the-wall, but he doesn’t move again.

“I’m always in control, Little Mouse,” he says, placing his hands behind his back.

It’s a deliberate move and it draws my attention, the gesture reminding me that no, Rory Brannagan never loses control.

He clears his throat, bringing my eyes back to his face. “If you want to test me, Miss Woodcrest,” he murmurs, his voice deadly soft, “you’ll soon come to regret it.”

A shiver runs down my spine, but I tilt my chin up, ignoring it as I pretend my breath isn’t coming faster, that my skin isn’t burning under the heat of his gaze.

“Doubtful,” I whisper, my smirk growing wider. “You’re all talk, no action. You have your men do all the dirty work. Rory Brannagan never gets his hands dirty, does he?” I ask, knowing that I’m treading dangerous waters here. It’s as though I’m poking at a slumbering beast, daring it to wake.

Rory’s nostrils flare. For a moment, I think he might close the distance, might do something to break this unbearable tension.

But then he steps back.

And somehow, that restraint is more terrifying than anything else.

I suck in a breath, doubt creeping up as my mind scrambles to make sense of the situation. He’s retreating. Does that mean I won? Do I even want to win? What do I get for winning this argument?

Suddenly, something inside me snaps. All the careful control I’ve always had vanishes in an instant.

I’m tired of pushing away, of retreating when things get too real.

I’m tired of always letting Rory dictate the terms of our relationship—whether it’s the few nights we’ve spent together or the way he treats me as an employee.

I don’t care anymore. Let him fire me for this, but I’m not going down without a fight.

I let my hands fall to my sides, steadying myself as courage breaks through. Taking a step forward, I close the gap between us.

“Then make me,” I whisper, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. “You want to make me regret pushing you? I’m ready. No more playing games, Rory. Punish me for being a bad, bad girl.”

The tic in his jaw returns as Rory’s eyes darken, and for a moment, he stands there, weighing every word I’ve spoken.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and deliberate. “If we do this, Clary, if you let me punish you, there’s no going back. This isn’t a game. I’m not a man to toy with.”

Without hesitation, I meet his gaze, the fire inside me burning hotter than ever before. “I know,” I say, determination coursing through my veins.

Rory’s icy blue eyes stay locked on mine. “You’ll accept the consequences? You’ll agree to my terms?”

I nod. I’ve made my choice, and there’s no going back now. I won’t let Rory make me cower away anymore. Not like I used to. If he wants to put me in my place, it’s going to be with my permission. My agreement.

The thought sends a shiver through me, a trickle of fear racing down my spine at the same time.

He takes a step forward, and I suck in a breath, eyes fluttering closed as I wait to find out what he’s going to do to me.