Burning For My Husband's Son

VEDA’S POV

Two years ago

“Dad, you can’t do this to me,” I whispered, the sob I was trying desperately to hold back breaking free. “You promised me. You promised Mom you wouldn’t sell me off.”

“You don’t have a say in the matter, Veda,” he said firmly as tears streamed down my cheeks. You know that feeling in your chest that builds up and sinks to your stomach when someone you trust hurts you? That’s what I was currently experiencing: the only man I’d ever loved broke me like this.

“I won’t let you do this, Dad. You cannot do this,” I screamed, ignoring the numerous eyes in my father’s office. This place used to be a haven for me. But not right now. Right now, I was pissed, angry and broken.

Fuck, how could he?

“Mind your tone, Veda,” my father seethed.

“No, I wo–”

The harsh sound of skin meeting skin cut me off, and it wasn’t until I felt blood pooling in my mouth that I realised I’d been slapped. I turned to the culprit, and it was my stepmother. A broken laugh escaped my lips as tears ran down my cheeks.

“Of course it’s you,” I laughed. My chest cracked more. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. She looked me in the eye with so much hatred. Dear Mom, why didn’t you take me with you? I thought to myself. My stepmother had never liked me, as I was proof of the only woman my father had ever truly loved, and she was finally getting rid of the reminder. 

Not even her daughters were nice to me.

A voice spoke up before she could say anything. “I thought I told you, Leo, that I hate scratches on my toys.” I turned around, and finally I saw him. The old man I was being sold to. His hard gaze landed on mine, and I steeled myself, unwilling to let him know I was a thread away from falling on the carpet and wailing for the whole world to hear my pain.

My fingers trembled, but I held myself back. I had to be strong, and I definitely wasn’t going with him. However, my options were really slim at the moment.

“My apologies, Mr. Sterling,” my father said, quickly rushing to gather the papers around him.

“Father, please,” I whispered, begging him to look at me. Begging the man who used to take me to the amusement park when I was little, the man who tickled me so hard, tears ran down my face in joy. The man who loved me. “Father, please don’t do this.” I couldn’t hold back the tears this time. Not anymore. My cheeks still bled, the salty liquid from my eyes mixing with the blood.

“It is done,” my father said, looking at Silas Sterling.

“Good.” He snapped his fingers, and men materialised from the shadows of the office. “Let’s go,” one of them said.

Behind me, my uncle leaned close. “Don’t forget about me now, little mouse.” His finger grazed my arm, and I shot a harsh look. He dropped it immediately. I wiped my cheeks, smearing the snot from my nose on my dress and followed the guards outside.

“You’d be well taken care of, daughter,” my father said from behind me. I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I steeled myself and held my back straight. “You are dead to me, father.” And with that, I left the room.

Silas was waiting beside a slate-grey car, entirely unbothered by the fact that he had just bought a human being.

“Rule number one,” he said, without turning. “Never keep me waiting because you won't enjoy the consequences.” He got in and closed the door. I stood straight, got into the back of the second vehicle, and made myself a promise as my father's house disappeared.

I will make Silas Sterling’s life hell on earth.

Present

“Excuse me, ma’am. Mr. Sterling would like to see you.” 

I lifted my nose from my book — erotica, obviously, because how else can I entertain myself in this boring house — and pulled my hand from underneath my shorts with the frustration of a woman whose orgasm had been rudely interrupted.

Why. Do these maids. Always have the worst timing? I was almost there.

“I’ll be there shortly,” I said pleasantly.

I waited until her footsteps faded, then I screamed into my pillow.  When I came up for air, a slow, wicked smile spread across my face. 

Ah. He found the gift I left him this morning.

I went downstairs calm, pleasant and composed. Silas was by the fireplace, tension rolling off his shoulders in waves. When he heard my heels on the marble, he turned. 

“What did you do, Veda?”

I paused a few steps away, lowering my gaze slightly. “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said softly. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture I once, and sometimes still feared.

“I don’t have time for this,” he snapped, hitting the side table so hard the lamp rattled. I managed, barely, not to flinch. “Did you relay the message to my PA about the merger? The one I told you about at breakfast?”

My fingers curled slightly at my sides, but I remained still. 

“You told me,” I began carefully, “not to involve myself in anything concerning your business.” I softened my voice more, keeping still to avoid his anger. “So… I listened. I followed the rule.” A long and tense silence stretched between us.

“I just lost a multi-million dollar merger, Veda.”

“And I am devastated for you.” I wasn’t, but my words sounded enough like an “apology”.

His jaw worked, and he looked at me, searching for any defiance, attitude or anything he could use to punish me. But I gave him nothing. After a moment, he exhaled sharply and walked away with no further comment or parting threat. I did, however, hear the slam of a door. I exhaled, letting the victory warm me for ten seconds. 

Now, here’s the thing you need to know about Silas that took me roughly four months to figure out. My husband doesn't hit me because he doesn’t like bruises, and he couldn't punish me for the merger because I'd followed his instructions to the letter, but he would find a way to punish my defiance. He always does. 

I walked back to my room, and Rosa was already there, waiting with a garment bag over both arms. Rosa was my personal attendant, fifty-four, a survivor of three husbands, and entirely unimpressed by wealth, a quality I found deeply comforting.

“The gala tonight,” she announced, dropping the bag onto the chair. “Mr. Sterling's office confirmed your attendance this morning. He also requested you wear the Voss emeralds."

My heart did a slow, painful thud, and my stomach tightened. So this was his punishment. The Voss emeralds were a family heirloom that Silas had brought along with me. He knew how much I hated it and how much I felt collared by it. He couldn't touch my bank account. But this, this he could do.

“The full team is coming?”

“The full team,” she confirmed, already dialing numbers.

Dorian, Lena, and a nameless nail tech arrived shortly after. Dorian gossiped about his latest heartbreak while Lena worked in silence beside him, occasionally tipping my chin with a finger. They worked quickly and smoothly, covering up the nightmare I was becoming with a perfect mask.

“Which dress?” Lena asked.

“The black one,” I answered.

“The midnight Blue,” Rosa corrected smoothly. “The emeralds don’t look good against the black in pictures.”

“Maybe that's the point,” I muttered, but I let her slide the blue silk over my head.

“I love her,” Dorian said, pointing at Rosa with a curling iron. “She's like a very elegant bouncer.”  I ignored his comment and Lena’s quiet laughter.

Lena finished my red lipstick, and when I looked in the mirror, I looked perfect and expensive and not like a woman who had been sold. Rosa fastened the emeralds around my neck, and goosebumps spread across my skin.

“You're ready,” she whispered. I didn’t feel ready, but I stood regardless, my heels clicking on the hard floor. Silas is obviously waiting downstairs, thinking he's won this round. But he had no idea I was about to ruin it. Taking a deep breath, I walked downstairs. Tomorrow, the world would talk about the merger he lost, but tonight, I just had to survive him.

What I didn't know was that another danger was already on the way. The heir was already here.