My father devotes himself to his family with everything in him. Mam worships the ground he walks on, and he’s good to her. The only time his stern demeanor softens is when he’s in her presence. The two can read each other so well, as a lad I vowed one day when I married, I’d cultivate a relationship like theirs.
They’re a unified front, so entwined it’s hard to see where one begins and the other ends. I can still hear her gentle voice admonishing me, “Obey your father, son.” She’s always upheld his authority, demanding obedience from me, my brothers, and every member of The Clan. My Clan brothers see her as their mother, and all treat her with the utmost respect.
I’ll need her help with the girl I’ve taken as mine.
I take the girl by the arm and march her along with me in silence. We have much to discuss, but I have no interest in doing so until I have complete privacy. We’re a good distance away from my room on the second floor, but I don’t want to speak to anyone right now, so we walk with purposeful steps. She walks beside me in silence, and at one point, she stumbles. I slow my steps, frowning at her. I want to know why she’s shown signs of weakness. Is it fear? Or something else?
Our servants are attentive as I walk with her beside me, and some raise eyebrows when I walk past my office and to the large, gleaming stairway that leads to the second floor. I’ve never taken a woman into our home. Not once. Men of The Clan don’t date casually. We’re no celibates, but we know where to find women, how to keep our interactions with them private, and how to prevent any ties from forming. Unions within The Clan are often arranged, as any possible union must be approved to solidify or strengthen us. So if a woman’s brought home, she’s done so as a kind of entry into courtship. You don’t introduce a woman you don’t wish to marry to The Clan.
Unless she’s your prisoner, and we’ve had precious few of the female variety.
Finally, we get to my room. For safety purposes, each bedroom on the second floor has been protected with a variety of safety measures. The windows are kept locked, steel bars securing the outside. Security cameras are trained on every exit and entry into this house, the windows no exception. We’ve installed bright floodlights at the entrances and exits, and thorn bushes line the entire perimeter of our house.
I dismiss the men who work for us as my bodyguards. Standing at attention outside my bedroom, they’re dressed in the suits we require, but I know beneath their jackets they wear harnesses and holsters. I dismiss them for now. I want privacy.
I open the door quickly, and drag her in behind me, before I shut and lock it.
I’ve got her alone now. My pulse quickens. I’m hyper aware that she’s my charge, and I have full clearance to do anything I want to her.
Anything.
I swallow hard, tempering my need to master this beautiful, tenacious, headstrong girl. Christ but she’s gorgeous. My methods of interrogation won’t be the same as I’d use on a man.
She looks about my room with wide, curious eyes. If she’s been as sheltered as I suspect, I bet she’s likely never seen anything like this. My room is one of the larger ones, with a private bath, a king-sized bed, a small desk and chair, and ample room to move around. I can see the housekeepers have been in today. My beds made, the pillows fluffed, and there are still lines in the carpet where they’ve run the Hoover.
I leave her restraints on, lead her to the upholstered chair next at the foot of my bed, and push her to sitting.
I could take a stern approach with her. My father expects me to punish her, and I know why, of course. But her wide eyes tell me she’s fearful. I’m tempted to coerce her. Intimidate her. Dominate her. Time will tell which methods she responds best to. It might help if I pretend I’m the good guy.
“Now, lass,” I begin, pulling the chair from my desk and straddling it in front of her. “We talk.”
She stares at me, and I can’t quite read her expression. She’s fearful, I’ve no doubt, I can tell by the way she swallows hard, her eyes wide, giving her away. But it seems she’s also curious, and I suspect the girl’s got questions herself. She looks away and tucks her head to her chest, as if to shield herself from me, and a raw, primal urge rises within me.
No one will touch her. No one will harm her.
I’ll have the truth from her.