Magnate (Acquisition 2)

“Get out.” I stared at the floor, not wanting him to see my tears when they fell.

“If Dylan contacts you, I’ll know.” He gripped my hair and wrenched my eyes back to his. Tears ran down my temples as he spoke in a harsh whisper. “Don’t try anything. If I find out you’ve been speaking or even trying to speak to him, you can say goodbye to this room, these nice things.” He yanked my shirt hard, the seams splitting under my arms. “These clothes. Everything. I’ll have you kept naked and bound in the stables with a horse blanket for warmth. See, Stella? That was a threat. And I intend to make good on it if you even so much as think about trying to fuck us in this Acquisition. Do I make myself clear?”

I swallowed hard, tears thickening in my throat as terror pounded in my heart. Vinemont shook me, my arms flailing before I latched onto his shirt. My already scattered mind exploded in waves of desperation. I had to get away from him.

“I asked if you understood, Stella.” His intense gaze crushed me more than his hands ever could. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

He shoved me back into the dresser.

“I’m glad we had this little chat.” He turned and walked out, slamming my door behind him.

I sank to my knees, the sobs uncontrollable. I thought I had something figured out. I thought I was getting Vinemont to turn, to put me ahead of being Sovereign. I was wrong. So wrong. I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe, until I thought I would vomit. I cried for what felt like hours. So much of me poured out and into the rug beneath me.

Where was Renee? She should have come. She had to know I was here. I lay on my side and clutched my arms to me until the last tear fell and I was silent. Everything inside me was fractured and broken. Vinemont had taken what I was and smashed it into the ground.

But I was the one who’d given him the ability, who’d let him in. I’d allowed him to hurt me by foolishly hoping I could change him. I was the one who’d changed, who’d let myself be taken in by a man whose sole desire was to use me in every way possible before tossing me aside. When would I learn?

I picked myself up and crawled into my bed, the soft whir of the ceiling fan the only thing competing with the sluggish beat of my heart. My thoughts flickered to the hidden knife before I shoved the thought back in its box and turned the lock.

This was a setback, and, I forced myself to believe, a good thing. Now I could seduce Lucius and turn him on Vinemont without any second thoughts. I burrowed into my crisp linen sheets and forced my breathing to even out, forced my eyes to close, and forced myself to give up any hope of warming Vinemont’s cold heart.

Chapter Eleven

Sinclair

I paced my study, tossing back a bourbon before pouring another. It was close to daybreak. I’d been in here for a couple of hours, steeling myself for what had to be done next. A dull ache emanated from my chest and I wondered if it would ever go away. But it was necessary. All of it.

I should have gone even further with Stella, but I couldn’t. The pain in her eyes was enough. The fear—even better. I wanted her afraid. It was the only thing I could use to keep her in line now that she knew about her father. So much was riding on her, how she behaved, how I, and now Lucius, treated her. It was all a skillful dance put on for the entertainment of the Sovereign. Tonight, I could feel his favor slipping. And after my conversation with Red, I realized things were even more precarious than I’d thought.

I had to tell Lucius. It was time. After his performance at Cal’s party, he needed to know the real stakes, the real penalty. And our grasp on Stella was weakening by the moment now that Dylan was a possible player. Could I trust Lucius to stay strong with the weight of the truth bearing down on him?

I poured another glass and left my study as the first rays of the sun shot out across the dead grass and peeked through the leafless trees. My legs were heavy on the stairs, each step painful in more ways than one. Stella had done well fixing up my leg, but our doctor had cleaned the wound and re-stitched it just the day before. It still burned like a son of a bitch. Fatigue clouded my vision. I only hoped it hadn’t clouded my judgment.

I passed my bedroom on the way to Lucius’. I wanted nothing more than to sink into my bed and into a dreamless sleep. No, that wasn’t true. The one thing I wanted more was to walk to the other wing of the house and get in Stella’s bed, pull her close, and fall asleep with her head above my heart. But that would require her trust and something more—her love. I almost laughed, my chest shaking from the strained chuckle caught beneath my ribs.