His Rule (The Rite Trilogy 1)

“Pick. Them. Up.”

“Fine! Just…” She stretches one arm to get both bowl and napkin, keeping the other on my forearm while still trying to tug free.

“Miriam,” I call out.

The door opens instantly as if the woman had her fucking ear to it. “Sir,” she says, her voice betraying no emotion.

“Mercedes has made a mess. She needs a bucket and a sponge to clean it up.”

“Right away, sir.” I keep Mercedes on her knees until Miriam returns and sets the bucket down, letting water splash out of the sides, then turns to leave.

“Stay,” I tell her.

“Yes, sir.”

I release Mercedes’s hair, and she drops to her hands, then sits back to rub her head.

“Clean my shoes.”

She grits her teeth but doesn’t move.

“Get my crop, Miriam.”

Miriam spins on her heel, but before she can take a step, Mercedes has the sponge and is wiping off my shoes. Smart girl. I’m sure she doesn’t want her ass whipped in front of the help.

When she’s done, she sits back and glares up at me. She has the good sense to keep her mouth shut.

I step away, then gesture to the mess on the floor. “Miriam will supervise as you scrub the carpet. I’ll be back tomorrow morning bright and early to take you to the stables, where you’ll clean the stalls. For starters. What’s the expression? Idle hands are the devil’s playground.”

“You can’t do this to me,” she grits out.

I crouch down, take her chin in my hand, and tug her forward so she has to set her hands down to steady herself. “Do you remember what I said last night?” She tries to jerk free, but I only tighten my grip. “Good behavior earns you privileges. Bad behavior earns you consequences. If you think I’m playing a game here, let me be very clear that I am not. I take the Rite very seriously. And you, little monster, need to be tamed.” She swallows, eyes searching mine. “I won’t fail Santiago or you in my task. I promise you that. Now thank me for my lenience tonight.”

Her eyes narrow to slits, but she says the words. Or more spits them. It’s fine. I’ll take it.

Releasing her, I get up and walk to the door, but I stop before I leave. I turn back to the two women—one on her knees and the other standing over her, relishing her task, this humbling of the great Mercedes De La Rosa. I’ll have to remind Miriam of her place too. But not tonight.

“Miriam will leave once she’s satisfied with your work and only after you’ve thanked her for the opportunity.”

“You fucking asshole,” she says so low I almost don’t hear it.

“What’s that?” I ask, stepping back inside.

She leans away and doesn’t open her mouth.

“I thought so,” I say. “Good night, Mercedes.”

7

Judge

I walk out of that room on wooden legs. She’s under my skin. Even though I know she’s testing. Pushing. She’s acting out because she’s out of options. A lioness backed into a corner staring down the all-powerful lion twice her size. She only has one option. Fight. It’s in her nature. She’s not one to lay herself down to be slaughtered. Devoured. Not by me. Not by anyone.

My room is beside Mercedes’s. I enter, shut the door and strip off the ruined clothes. Lois, the housekeeper in charge of running the household, will let me know if we can salvage it. I doubt it, but I’ll leave it for her. From my pocket, I retrieve Mercedes’s panties. I don’t know why I took them. The lace is soft in my hand. The scent subtle. Her scent.

There’s that image of her again. On her knees. Squirming between my thighs.

Fuck.