Chapter 9

To my surprise, he doesn’t have a rebuttal. Instead, his expression clears and he dishes out his own helping. The rest of the meal is eaten in silence. Which is fine by me. I’m not sure I could speak civilly anyway. For the moment, I’ll play nice—or as nice as I can make myself play—and when he gets bored, I’ll go home.

Despite my head start and my hunger, Nathan is finished before I am. He sets his silverware on his plate and pushes it away from him. He rests his clasped hands on the edge of the table. “Did the clothes in the closet fit?”

I’d inspected the entirety of the bedroom and bathroom I’d been given after he had left earlier. A ridiculous amount of women’s clothes—none to my taste—were hung in the closet. If they were there for me, then my captor doesn’t know shit about me. I didn’t touch a single article.

“Don’t know. Didn’t try them on,” I mumble through a mouth full of food.

Nathan’s jaw clenches and he inhales deeply through his nose like he’s trying to breathe in patience. “May I ask why not?”

“Sure.” I set down my own set of utensils and swallow that last bite. “For two reasons. One, there was nothing in there that I even remotely liked. And two, I’m not wearing clothes you provide like I’m some little doll you can dress up.”

“I see.”

Unable to sit here any longer like we’re a normal couple having a nice quiet dinner at home together, I toss my napkin onto my empty plate and rise from the chair.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my prison cell,” I call over my shoulder, already walking away.

A chair scrapes across the floor behind me, but I don’t stop. Nathan grabs my arm and I turn on him with a hiss. “Get your hands off me.”

“You seem to think you’re the one in charge here. Maybe you need to be reminded that I’m the one in control and who can do anything he wants.”

I jerk my arm, but his grip doesn’t loosen. “So, what? Are you going to rape me now?”

He sneers. “I think we already established that I don’t have to resort to rape.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“The only person I’m going to be fucking is you.” He yanks me against him, wraps his hand around the back of my neck, and slams his mouth down on mine in a blistering kiss full of fire and rage.

It’s a battle of wills, both of us trying to prove a point, and neither of us wanting to concede. Except I can feel myself giving in to the pleasure. The desire. I whimper, almost pleading for more. Nathan’s beard scrapes my skin in the most delicious way, abrading it harshly and sending a spark of pleasure-pain dancing through me. I bite him—hard—but he only deepens the kiss. The warm, briny flavor of his blood glides across my tongue. It’s the taste of it that brings me to my senses. I rip myself from his arms.

We stand there, panting, and glare at each other. Shame creeps up my neck, heating my flesh. Nathan’s tongue flicks out and laps up the bit of blood spread across his bottom lip. That tiny movement makes my pussy throb even more, as I imagine him licking me instead. Sliding through my wetness, drinking it down. Feasting on me like I’m his favorite dessert. A shiver runs over me and a knowing glint flashes in his eyes.

“Go ahead and run away like a scared little girl,” Nathan goads me. “We both know, though, that when you go to sleep tonight you’ll be dreaming of me fucking you hard and fast. And when I’m lying in bed stroking myself, I’ll be thinking of you.”

My face flames, both from rage and embarrassment, and without another word, I spin and rush out of the room while his mocking laughter chases me the whole way.

Nathan

Ignoring the sputtering housekeeper, I stride through the front door of Ruby sprawling manor house as though I own the place. Which I will, as soon as this meeting is over. Behind me are Diana and Cray. Our footsteps beat a rhythmic staccato on the hardwood floor. God, I hate this fucking house. Always have. It’s cold and emotionless. For someone like me, it should be perfect then. Instead, it only serves as a reminder of its owner—former owner anyway. If my dear step-Da is lucky, I might not burn it to the ground.

The door to his office is partially closed. Without even pausing, I push it open the rest of the way and keep walking in. Ruby sits behind his desk with his gaze focused on a stack of papers in front of him. He jerks his head up at the intrusion, taking in the two men who follow and flank me on both sides. His eyes narrow, and his lips curl in a familiar sneer that fans the flames of my hatred.

“Always the uncouth mongrel, aren’t we, Nathan? Barging into a man’s home like he’s the king of the place. Couldn’t even come alone, like a real man. Worried I might teach you some of the same lessons I did when you were a little brat?”

His insults roll right off me. I merely offer a faint smile, because there’d been a slight waver of apprehension—of fear—behind them. So slight, I’m not sure if anyone besides me took note of it. I stride closer, unbutton my suit jacket, and take a seat across from him. In a lazy gesture, I sit back and cross my ankle over my knee. Sheehan bristles at my lack of reaction and the disrespect.

“I’m going to give you two choices.” I stare straight into his eyes. “You can vacate the premises with your pride barely intact or when my men drag your corpse out of it.”

Red climbs up his porcine face, giving his cheeks a ruddy appearance. His eyes flash with rage. “You dare come into my house and threaten me? I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with. You’re a dead man.”

Ruby jerks open a side drawer, but before he can bring out the gun he keeps stored in it, there are two weapons trained on him. His eyes widen, and he slowly brings his hands up to rest on the desk surface.

“You see, Hampson .” I rise from my chair and casually button my jacket. “While you’ve been losing your fortune, I’ve been amassing mine.”

His wary gaze follows me as I slowly circle behind him.

“While you’ve been losing the respect of your men, I’ve been gaining it.” I place my hands on his shoulders. He goes rigid. I squeeze the tiniest bit before I clap the right one, and Ruby flinches. I continue my small trek until I’m in front of my recently vacated chair. Instead of sitting, I turn, place my palms on the desk top, and loom over him. “I now own the deed to this house. It, as well as the entirety of what’s inside, belongs to me.”

His complexion goes white. “That’s not possible. I didn’t sign it over to you.”

I straighten and reach into my inner jacket pocket, pull out a rolled up sheet of paper, and toss it on his desk. “Didn’t you?”

Hampson unfurls the damning evidence with trembling fingers. His eyes scan the document and he swallows hard, his jowls shaking with the effort. It drops from his lax hold, but his gaze remains locked on it.

“The original is in my possession for safe keeping.”

Finally, he raises his head. “When? How?”

“You should be careful who you trust when they hand you a stack of papers to sign and you don’t bother reading them.” I pluck the document up and pocket it again. “Now…get the fuck out.”

We stare at each other a moment longer, until, at last, Sheehan breaks contact and slowly stands. His shirt is rumpled and gapes open at the bottom. With as much dignity as he has left, I suppose, he buttons his jacket and rounds the desk with his gaze locked straight ahead. He passes me and continues through the narrow space between Diana and Cray, neither of whom have holstered their weapon.

Ruby makes it to the door and pauses. He turns and finally meets my eyes. “You have no idea what you’ve just set in motion. If you think that by taking over my organization you’ll also be able to gain control of Dublin from the Hampson , you don’t know Jack or his sons very well. They will kill each and every one of you before they’ll let that happen.”

I sneer. “Let them try.”

He stands there for another second, his hate-filled gaze drifting over the three of us, and then walks out of his former office. I jerk my chin up and Cray follows him to ensure he doesn’t accidentally lose his way or take anything that no longer belongs to him.

The stench of stale sweat and sourness makes my stomach turn. I can picture all the times I stood in here and was disciplined by the bastard who just left. He tried to break me. Almost did. But I refused to let him win. He would have enjoyed it too much. Satisfaction washes over me at the recent play of events. It couldn’t have gone better. Unless, of course, Hampson had given me an excuse to kill him. I’m almost disappointed he didn’t. I glance up to find Diana studying me.

“Now what?” he asks.

“We let word get out about who’s in power now. I expect it will reach Hampson by the end of the day. No doubt he’ll want to set up a meeting .”

He glances around. “And the house?”

“It can stand, but sell everything in here. I want it gutted. When the eldest Hampson son gets tired of fucking Nessa and discards her, she’ll at least have somewhere to go. Don’t let it be said that I’m entirely heartless.” Which reminds me of my completely fuckable house guest. “Now that that’s taken care of, update me on getting into Ms. Walsh’s flat.”

“It’s completely secure. Not even our best guys could figure out the code to get in.”

Ella is turning out to be quite the conundrum. Why does she have two different cell phones and a locked-tight laptop, as well as a high-tech security system? What’s so important that it needs that much protection? I glance at my watch. Perhaps when I get back, we can play nice and maybe she’ll answer some of my questions. Unable to stand being in this house any longer, I exit the office just as Cray returns.

“Has the trash taken himself out?”

He nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. You and Diana are in charge of arranging for this place to be stripped of everything and sold.” I continue out the front door to the waiting town car, get in the backseat, and, once the driver’s behind the wheel, tap the cracked-open window divider between us. “Home.”

As soon as he pulls away, I reach into the dry bar and pour myself a glass of whiskey. Then I sit back and toast to there being a new Dublin King.

Ella

If Nathan doesn’t kill me, the boredom will. Once again, I’ve been left in this stupid locked room with absolutely nothing to do. At least I’ve been fed. For someone who kidnaps a woman because he wanted to, my captor has been notedly absent aside from that disastrous dinner last night. Don’t forget the kiss, though? I groan. As if I could. I’d love to scrub my brain of it forever, but the memory won’t go away. Nor will his taunting words after. Had he actually thought of me when he masturbated? Because the bastard had been right. I had dreamed of him. Dirty, filthy dreams. I woke up needy with my pussy throbbing so bad, I ended up taking care of it myself.

Nathan doesn’t strike me as a man who can’t get any woman he wants. Especially without resorting to kidnapping her off the street. So what exactly does he want with me? I find it hard to believe it’s just for a fuck. Does he know who am I and this is just some giant mindfuck? No, he can’t know. I only do because Mum told me as she lay dying. I used every one of my computer skills, and, other than her confession, I couldn’t find a single piece of evidence—nothing—that backed up her claim. Had she been mistaken? Confused? Lied?

Since it’s not possible for Nathan to know my secret, there has to be some other reason why I’m here. Never one to shy away from conflict, the only thing to do is ask. This time, though, I won’t settle for a simple “because I want you here”. Bored, I climb off the bed and pace the room. I glance up at the ceiling. Are you happy now, Mum? I’m exercising.

I’ve made close to ten passes when the lock on the door clicks. The main one, not the other that connects to his bedroom. I stop in the middle of the room and wait. It opens, and Nathan stands there wearing another perfectly fitted suit that accentuates his muscular form. I push away the attraction I’m not supposed to feel.

He leans a shoulder against the door frame and takes me in. My temperature rises from that single glance. “Have you been keeping yourself busy while I’ve been away?”