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Eighty One
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2025-12-16 04:10:49
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HIS TOY Eighty Three
OWEN WINTERS A night to the wedding.This night determined everything. My plan was in place and all that remained was to execute them. I sat by the pool waiting for Lucille to show up. She was three minutes late and I didn't blame her, if someone told me to pack all I could and to inform my girlfriend to do so without giving me a reason, I would hesitate. I chuckled at my lie knowing who I was. Lucille was Lucille after all. Just then I saw her figure as she walked towards my direction. A small bag in hand. “You're getting smart, I can see,” I said and she shrugged standing in front of me. I stood straightening my trousers. “You're late.”“I'm just three minutes late, Mr. Aren't you the one who comes late just to make an entrance?” She fired back, making me throw my head in laughter. “You're clearly obsessed with me,” I said. She rolled her eyes before replying, “The only thing I'm obsessed about is leaving!” The time on my watch said 11:00 pm, which meant time wasted.
HIS TOY Eighty two
OWEN WINTERS My bride to be sat opposite me, her arm folded between her legs as she gave me an awkward stare.I muttered curses before looking back at her. “Do you want anything?” I asked, wary of her constant gaze on me. She shook her head, still staring at me.I sighed, and brought out my card. “Take this and go shopping, I have to take a call.” What I actually meant was that she should stop staring at me like a long lost love. Lucille sagged her shoulders, declining the offer. “Father wouldn't let me…”“Father isn't here, and it's my fucking card not his,” I interrupted rolling my eyes at her timidity. I didn't fully blame her though, Mr Lyon was a controlling and thorough dictator. He made her do things she didn't want to do. Lucille hesitantly took the card, her fingers brushing mine — there was no spark. Not even the lightest shock. As she stood to leave, I added, “You're grown. You should take control over your life.” She dipped her head and walked away.I stared
HIS TOY Eighty One
OWEN WINTERS Two weeks.I'd be married in two weeks?That fucker set the wedding in two weeks! Rage came rushing through me, threatening to spill, but I held myself. My anger was visible and I could tell Amy sensed it too. “You're getting married in two weeks,” father repeated, irritating me all the more. He knew that I knew he wanted to prove me wrong, to put me in my place and to hell, to show me who was really in charge.I was making plans on how I wouldn't get married to Lyon's daughter, Lucille, but that man — my father moved the date upwards. “I heard you the first time,” I gritted my teeth, every word dripped with seething rage. An anger I could no longer contain. “So for the rest of the week, you'll be tasked with assisting her, getting to know her better… and even fall in love.” The last part made me nauseous. Lucille Gates wasn't a bad fit, but she wasn't my type. She was too clumsy, awkward and most times unbearable. Father knew I never liked her, and that basta
HIS TOY Eighty
OWEN WINTERS I didn't wait for my alarm to ring because I opened my eyes and it turned out I was three minutes early. Sighing, I sat up rubbing my temple gently. Last night, I stayed awake working till it was 4:00 am. Ash Winters really did a lot to have deprived me of sleep. I glanced over Amy, her eyes shut and her breathing calm. She looked peaceful, especially with everything that had happened so far. She needed me to be safe, and I would gladly give her myself. I bent to kiss her hair, but my alarm rang so I turned it off, and stood up to take a shower. Five minutes later, I was in the shower, water running down my hair to my toes. My body ached as the water hit my skin, I winced trying my best to hold it all in. The wound at my back (Ash Winters doing) never really healed and by God Amy never knew. She couldn't. I had told the doctor to discharge me before time and although he gave me some drug prescriptions, I dumped the paper into the trashcan. The water hit me
HIS TOY Seventy Nine
OWEN WINTERS I walked into the basement where I normally killed people, my face, void of emotions, and my hands cold. I remembered father's instructions clearly, “Don't give the bastard a quick death.”I smirked wondering what ‘the bastard’ had committed. Although I was made heir to the Winters, father still ran the organization, and he wasn't planning to quit anytime soon. That didn't really bother me one bit because once I became don, a lot of things were going to change including my love life. It was better to enjoy the little things now. I pushed open the door to the room where the so-called bastard knelt, hands and legs tied. His skin shone in the light and his smooth face, thin lips, doe eyes and the way he styled his hair told me he was a foreigner. “What do we have here?” I asked rhetorically, as my men untied him. His clothes were clean, which meant father gave him to me without touching him — he must be growing old. “Please, have mercy. Please!” The young man pleaded
HIS TOY Seventy Eight
OWEN WINTERS Amy was covered in a warm blanket drinking soup. She sneezed, alarming me so I rushed to her side and patted her back. Only if I hadn't made her go under the rain, only if I didn't make out with her u Dee the freaking rain, she wouldn't be sitting on the couch, drinking soup and sneezing the life out of her. The doctor assured she and the baby would be fine as long as she took her medications. I stroked her hair with my fingers hoping it eased her a little. “You're treating me like a fucking baby, Owen,” she whined handing me the empty bowl of soup. “I feel guilty, I made you go under the rain, now you have a cold,” I replied sincerely. I stroked her cheeks before standing to get more soup. “I don't need more soup!” She shrieked, horror written all over her face. I had made her take two bowls already. Amy was stubborn and that suited her so well. I eyed her lips and smirked evilly. “Wipe that naughty grub on your face, will you? I'm sick and fucking sore,”
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