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Owned: Chapter 43

London

Amber swirled, the edges translucent against the sides of the glass. There was no ice in my drink. Not because I didn’t like the cold, but because I didn’t want the dilution…not tonight. No, right now I needed the alcohol as strong as I could get it.

I licked my lips, then upended the glass down my throat to chase the last remaining drop with my tongue, and stared at the sparkling city lights down below. There was a soft sigh behind me, followed by movement as Ophelia rose from the sofa in her expensive penthouse apartment in the middle of the city. I fought a wince, then turned for the half-empty bottle.

I planned on getting wasted tonight.

So fucking wasted I wouldn’t feel a thing.

And hopefully tomorrow I won’t remember this night.

“You didn’t eat the meal I had prepared.” She moved closer and I tried not to notice her in the windows’ reflection. But it was like trying not to watch a viper slithering closer. “Yet you seem to have a thirst,” she finished.

She stopped at my side and reached to grab my jaw. Her nails dug cruelly deep as she forced my gaze to hers. “You think I don’t see you’re different?” She searched my stare. “How you’re so…cold.”

I tore away from her hold, pushing my rage as far down as I could. “You blackmail me, forced me here. What the fuck did you expect, flowers?”

Her nostrils flared.

Her blood red lips clamped tight.

Her long black silk dress shifted as she slowly placed her hands on her hips. I didn’t need to look to know she was bare underneath. Ophelia had orchestrated this moment down to the second. There was nothing she didn’t plan, including the waiting bed in the middle of the open-plan apartment.

“This is what we are, London,” she urged. “This is what we’ve always been. This is what we’ve always been, I do for you and…you do me.”

My stomach clenched. I looked away, to the sparkling lights far below.

“Yin and yang.” She dragged those red painted nails along my arm. “One person helping another, or have you forgotten your alliances now that you have that fresh young pussy under your roof?”

Anger flared, making me turn to her. “Don’t speak like that about her.”

Ophelia grew still, those hateful fucking eyes glinting. But underneath, she was cold, and growing colder by the second. “Still, you’re here,” she murmured. “And we have an agreement, don’t we, London?”

The fucking Scotch wasn’t strong enough, not anywhere near. Not for this.

I reached up and yanked my tie loose with one hand.

Get this over with. Get this fucking done…and I can get out of here. I can get back to…

Vivienne…

I swallowed hard to drive that bitter tang back down my throat and placed the glass on the edge of the dining table. Ophelia watched me greedily, then reached over her shoulder and tugged the tie of her dress free, to let it fall around her feet in one movement.

“You’re going to fuck me, aren’t you, London?” Her predatory stare drifted down my body. “You’re going to unleash all that anger on my body and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

I stepped closer to the table, grabbed the bottle, and poured before I lifted the glass to my lips. She flinched at the act. But I wasn’t here to stroke her vile fucking ego. I was here to do my duty. It was that duty I focused on as I swallowed the Scotch and placed the glass back down on the table.

“You want me to fuck you.” I grabbed her and spun her around, forcing her forward until she had no choice but to brace her hands on the table. “I’ll fuck you…my way.”

She shoved backwards, trying to turn back around. “No. I want—”

I grabbed her arm and yanked her hard against me. Pain flared in her eyes. But I was beyond caring now, beyond controlling that savage side of my nature. “You don’t get to fucking want anything when it comes to me, get it?”

I shoved her away as the hate gathered inside me like a vengeful storm.

I could kill her.

It’d be better than…this.

But her death would only bring me more problems, and right now, I had enough on my plate. I was still dealing with the last fucking bloodbath. I needed a way out of this. A way I could control. I drew in a hard breath, leashing that rage…until she lashed out.

Slap!

My head snapped to the side.

She was on me in an instant, clawing the back of my neck to pull me down. Those cold, flat lips pressed against mine before she forced her tongue into my mouth. I unleashed a hiss and shoved her hard.

She stumbled backwards, then her ankle buckled and she fell and hit the floor with a thud.

Oh shit…

She pushed her hand against the floor, driving her torso upwards, then lay there. There was a savage glare in her eyes when she looked up at me, an unhinged look of wrath. I’d pushed her too hard and driven a wedge between her desire and my need to control her.

“Is this what you do with your whore?” she snarled as she pushed up from the floor and stumbled for a second, until she stepped closer. “You like to manhandle her? Do you take her to the basement, London?”

I froze as my blood ran cold. “How do you know about that?”

She gave a blood-chilling smile. “I know about everything, London.” Somewhere in the apartment, her phone started to ring. “I know about the contract, as well. The contract where the ink has been dried for a very… very long time. But you won’t like it…no, you won’t like it at all.

What the fuck? I glanced toward that insistent ring, but inside, I was reeling. I clenched my jaw, desperate to force her to tell what she knew. I needed that fucking contract. Vivienne’s life depended on it. Hale had said it was signed. He wouldn’t dare betray me.

“So, this is how this is going to play out. You will fuck me. You’ll fuck me for as long as I tell you to and you’ll keep fucking me whenever I demand it, do you understand?” She jerked her glare away as her phone rang and rang and rang.

With a snarl of frustration, she strode toward her phone and snatched it from the counter. “I thought I said I wasn’t to be disturbed?” she snapped, then froze. Her brow furrowed before her eyes widened. “What the fuck did you say?”

I licked my lips as I watched fear give way to rage. “And my art? What the fuck do you mean, you don’t know the extent? WHAT THE FUCK DO I PAY YOU FOR?”

Her scream resounded through the apartment. Before my eyes, she transformed.

No longer desperate for me…

In fact, she didn’t look at me at all.

Instead, she hurried toward the bed and shifted her phone to her other ear while she pulled on panties and a bra. “Do not do a thing until I get there. I’ll call Howie now. You do nothing, do you hear me?”

He must’ve heard her.

Because she hung up the call and tossed the phone onto the bed while she hurriedly finished dressing.

“I take it our dinner is canceled?” I sneered.

“I can see you’re heartbroken,” she snapped, then cast a cutting glare my way. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is over, London, because I can assure you it’s not.”

She yanked up the zipper of her dress and snatched her phone from the bed before she hurried to grab her long coat and bag near the door. “I’ll be in touch, and you have a lot to make up for.”

But I scowled, as an eerie feeling crawled along my spine. The call and me being here wasn’t a coincidence, it couldn’t be. “I’m sure,” I answered.

In a heartbeat she was gone, leaving the slam of the door behind.

I stood there in silence for a second, until it hit me.

She was gone…

She was gone.

I closed my eyes and rocked backwards, before I froze.

What the fuck had they done?

I wrenched open my eyes. I knew it was bad. It had to be.

That meant they were in trouble.

I drained my glass, placed it on the table, and headed for the door, not even bothering to pull on my jacket. I couldn’t feel a damn thing anyway, nothing but the panic inside. Cold cut through my cotton shirt, sobering me fast. I headed for the elevator and made my way downstairs, to the parking lot.

I was pulling out in the Mercedes before I knew it, my thoughts fixed on that call and the growing fear for those I loved. I needed to get home…I needed to get home. “What the hell did you do?”


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