5

Crewe

I walked into Ariel’s office. “What’s on the agenda?”

She remained at her desk, her black glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. She spun a pen in her fingertips as she pressed her lips tightly together. “We have a new buyer in Ireland. Wants to buy a large order of Highland Whiskey. And when I say large, I mean enormous.”

“How enormous are we talking?” I fell into the chair and unbuttoned the front of my black suit.

“We’d need to hire an extra crew just to oversee the production. You were thinking of expanding anyway. Perhaps we should pursue that now.”

If a business wasn’t growing, then it was at risk. That’s how I saw it. “Let’s do it.”

She made some notes. “Alright. I’ll take care of it.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Her Highness Wilhelmina is having a ball next weekend. Of course, you’re on the invite list.”

“Excellent.” I rested my fingertips against my lips as I listened to her. “What else?”

“We haven’t heard anything from—”

“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt.” Finley walked inside, wearing slacks and a collared shirt. “London refuses everything I make for her. It’s been three days, so I thought I would bring it to your attention.”

I tried not to smile at the information. “I’ll take care of it, Finley. Thank you.”

“She hasn’t been drinking anything either.” He gave a slight bow before he walked out, closing the door behind him.

Ariel pulled the glasses off the bridge of her nose and rested them on the desk. She was just a few years younger than me, but her reading glasses aged her at least ten years. “Our guest has been a bit of a fuss, from what I understand.”

“She’s interesting…” There was no better way to put it. “Has a bigger backbone than Joseph.”

“So do a lot of people,” she jabbed.

I chuckled then rose to my feet, buttoning the front of my suit again. “I’ll get her under control soon enough. That’s when the real fun will begin.”

Ariel smiled before I walked out. “We’ll finish this conversation when you’re ready, sir.”

I walked across the house until I reached the entrance to the basement. The house was two stories tall, and it seemed like a mile from one end of the house to the other. I descended the staircase and found her sitting on the cot, stacks of food piled up on the opposite side of the cell.

When she realized I’d come for a visit, she turned her head in my direction, keeping her eyes glued to my movements.

“No appetite?”

“Maybe your servant just isn’t a good cook.”

She was the biggest smartass I had ever met. “I could make you something. And I’m definitely a good cook.”

“No, thanks. I’ll pass on the poison.”

I rested my elbows on the bars as I examined her in the cell. A quiet chuckle escaped my throat, quiet enough for only me to hear. “What’s your plan, London? Starve yourself to death?”

“Starve myself until I figure out a way to get out of here.”

“You expect to overpower me after fasting for three days?” I asked incredulously. Even if she were healthy, she would stand no chance against me.

Her silence told me she didn’t have a comeback—for once.

“Eat.”

“I’m not stupid. I’m sure you slipped something into my food to knock me out.”

“And why would I do that?”

She looked away. “Let’s not beat around the bush.”

I understood her implication. “Lovely, if I wanted to fuck you, I would hold you down and do it. I wouldn’t knock you out first. It’s not nearly as much fun that way.”

Her face immediately drained of all color.

“Now shut up and eat.”

She still didn’t move for the food, probably wanting to wait until I was out of the room.

“So, do you have any questions?” She still didn’t know why she was here, on the other side of the world and away from the life she once knew. I wanted her to know that her brother was responsible for her demise, that if she blamed anyone, it should be him.

“Nope.”

Her stubbornness baffled me. It was worse than mine. “I guess you don’t want that shower then?”

“I’ll pass.” She looked to the left side of the room, ignoring me like I wasn’t even there.

I didn’t expect it to take this long to get her to cooperate. I expected her to be somewhat scared after the initial shock wore off. But this woman was too courageous, too proud to give in to the fear.

So I’d have to make her give in to the fear.

 

  

Swiftly and silently, I unlocked the door and crept into her cell. The lights were off, and she lay in the small cot, the air freezing. I leaned over her, prepared to grab her by the neck.

But she must have heard me because she struck first. She threw her hand upward, aiming right for my eyes.

I was annoyed that she was so in tune with her surroundings. She didn’t trust her environment, not even for a second. For a woman in medical school, she had the reflexes of an assassin.

But I easily overpowered her, pinning her hand down along with the rest of her body. I forced my weight on top of her, keeping her against the hard cot and immobilizing her. I stared her down and watched her twist and turn underneath me, doing whatever she could to get free.

But nothing worked.

She eventually gave up her struggle when I didn’t move an inch. Like a mountain, she couldn’t move me with only sheer determination. Her hands finally went limp, and she stared at me with defeat in her eyes, not fear. “Let go of me.”

My voice came out as a whisper. “Make me.”

Fire glowed in her eyes, and she tried to throw me off with her hips.

But it was pointless.

She tried pushing me off her body with her legs, but that didn’t work either. She hissed between her teeth, sweaty and out of breath from the pointless exertion. She was too small and weak to overpower someone like me.

However, I did enjoy watching the fight. “You can’t beat me. Stop trying.”

“I’ll never stop trying,” she said through her heavy breathing. “One day, your guard is going to be down, and I’m going to hit you where it hurts.”

I separated her thighs with my knees, positioning her underneath me with a hint of sexual violence.

She stiffened, the terror finally entering her face. It was the first time she showed an ounce of fear. It was a trigger I suspected I could hit. I would use her body to make her feel dirty, defiled. “Don’t…” It was the first plea, the first beg.

The ball was back in my court, and I felt a surge of adrenaline. I pressed my face closer to hers, feeling her breath fall on my lips. “You don’t want me to fuck you? I promise, you’ll like it.”

She stared into my eyes, all her courage and strength completely gone.

I had the upper hand, the power. And I would use that to my full advantage. “If you don’t want me to, say please.”

Her lips parted, but the word didn’t escape. Her hesitance stemmed from stubbornness, not true desire. She didn’t like giving in to me, following any kind of command. She knew that would give me the small amount of power she possessed.

My hand moved to the top of my jeans, and I undid the button.

“Please.” She spit out the word quickly, squirming underneath me.

“Please, what?”