“Hey, Agnus.” I smile for the first time today.
Knox likes to tease me by saying I smile only once a day, and I’m hoping he doesn’t catch on like Elsa has and realise who I smile at.
I snap the seatbelt in place as the car swerves in the streets.
Agnus has raised Knox and me as if we were his children. When we were eight, Knox and I were kidnapped by his brother, Reginald, though I wouldn’t actually call it kidnapping. Knox and I were running away from the brothel in which Mum worked. We were starved and cold, so cold; I can still feel the chill on winter nights even when I’m under covers.
Reginald was this posh driver who offered us food if we met his mistress. Knox didn’t like it and said we shouldn’t go, but I took Reginald’s hand and we went into his car.
We had our food. We ate so much until I thought we were going to burst, but being hungry dirty kids, we continued to eat because we never knew when we’d eat next.
Then, Reginald’s mistress showed up — Dad’s dead wife, Abigail — and she was a spitting image of how Elsa looks now.
She was kind and showered us then gave us new clothes. I didn’t speak, not even once, but Knox kept thanking her and being his charming self.
What we didn’t know was that she was mentally ill and only fed children who looked like her dead son. The moment she found out I was a girl who had my hair cut short, she kind of flipped.
Knox and I were trapped in an underground basement for days or weeks, I still don’t remember. We barely ate, and she once cut our knees so we’d have the same injury as her son.
Back then, Knox cried, even as he hugged me and told me everything would be okay.
I didn’t.
I was too numb, and it wasn’t because of that incident. I didn’t speak either. All I kept doing was licking my lips to taste the last of the chocolate we’d had.
Then Dad showed up.
People think knights are your love interests, but mine is Dad, Ethan.
He saved us from his wife and was about to take us back to Mum, but Knox begged him not to.
I just shrunk back, my whole body shaking at the thought of having to return to that life in the brothel and go through everything that came with it.
Even though it’s been more than ten years, I still remember the first time Agnus spoke to me. Dad was busy talking to Knox, and then this man crouched in front of me and asked in a soothing tone, “You don’t want to go back?”
I shook my head so hard he smiled and made me stop.
“Can you say that?”
“Don’t take us back, please.” It was the first time I’d spoken in weeks, and it was because of Agnus.
He didn’t hug me, though. Dad did, and maybe that’s why I see him as my knight.
Agnus is different. I watch his side profile with a small sigh. I never considered him a father. Weird, I know. After all, he’s the one who took care of Knox and me during the years Dad spent in a coma.
He never acted as a father, either. He’s always been efficient at getting things done and that’s all.
Over the years, the initial admiration has been developing. I don’t know at which point I am exactly, but all I know is that I enjoy his silent company, and the fact that he never smiles or shows emotions is a plus.
What? Everyone has different tastes.
“Thanks for picking me up, Agnus.”
He merely nods.
Little to no words — another one of his qualities. Oh, did I mention he’s Dad’s trustee and right-hand man? He’s the one who managed Dad’s steel empire when he couldn’t. He’s the one who’s helping Dad snatch his place back in the business world now that he’s returned.
There are practically endless positive qualities in Agnus.
“Will Knox and Elsa be there at dinner?” he asks without taking his eyes off the road.
“Knox is out with friends and Elsa is with Aiden, so I assume no.”
“Perfect.”
Of course he’d find it so. They make too much noise at the table, and while Dad is amused by it, Agnus never is.
Tonight, it’ll just be the three of us, peaceful and perfect.
I also dislike a lot of energy. It messes with my senses and exhausts me.
Like a certain arsehole from earlier. I can’t believe I acted that way with the girl who was kneeling at his feet.
So what if she sucked him off? It’s none of my business.
He’s a pawn, just a damn pawn.
But sometimes, pawns can flip the entire game. Dad has won several times by just using his pawns.
I shoo the thought away.
Why am I allowing that bastard to ruin my alone time with Agnus? I study him again, his strong hands and face.
Memories of other hands touching me, feeling me up, and trapping me barge into my mind.
Get out of my head, damn you.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I startle at Agnus’ question. I was too caught up in my fantasies about Ronan, and I nearly forgot about him.
Way to go, Teal.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, knowing full well it’ll be untucked in seconds. “About what?”
“The whole engagement idea.”
“I told you — I’m just trying to help Dad.”
“I see.”
He knows I’m lying, damn it. I don’t want Agnus to have that idea about me, but at the same time, I refuse to come clean. This secret will follow me to the grave. Neither he, Dad, nor Knox will be hurt by this.
It’s only me and the shadow on my shoulder.
“I really want to help Dad, and I might have something else going on. I just want you to trust me.”
“I’ll consider that if you tell me what’s going on.” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Agnus, come on, everyone needs to have their secrets.”
“Not when it can harm Ethan.”
“I’d never do that.”
He gives a curt nod, and just like that, the subject is gone. I have no doubt he’ll dig after me, which means I need to be extra careful about my moves.
Agnus has zero tolerance for anything that could harm my father. He nearly turned against Elsa when she was proving to be a problem in Dad’s path to success.
That’s probably why the two of them don’t really get along.
My phone vibrates with a text — Ronan.
He sent the picture he snapped of me in the club. My cheeks heat at the position I’m in — a position I’ve never been in my entire life. Submissive, confused…aroused. His finger is pinching my nipple, and I nearly feel the touch in my throbbing breasts.
Ronan: Since you ruined my getting-off session, I’ll jerk off to that picture.
The image of him wrapping his hands around his dick and wanking off to my picture causes my stomach to dip. Why the hell would that have this effect on me?
I loathe male masturbation, so why do I not hate it when he does it?
My phone vibrates with another text.
Ronan: Then maybe I’ll send it off to Ethan and my dear father. Come on, end this, ma belle, and I promise you the world.
Ronan: Just kidding. I promise you pain.
Teal: What type of logic is that? You’re okay with touching me when I’m not your fiancée but not the other way around?
Ronan: Ding dong, you finally figured it out.
Teal: Why?
I allow myself a curiosity I would’ve never followed if it were any other person.
I’m a strategist; my eyes are always on the end goal. I don’t allow myself to swerve in the middle of the operation.
But Ronan is the exception to all rules.
He’s a damn anomaly with his stupid grin and his punishing hands and the contradictions in his personality.
Ronan: Because the title comes with burdens. I don’t want to fuck with burdens. Sort of like how you don’t want to fuck normal.
I mark the text as read but don’t reply.
Ronan: This is your final warning. End the engagement before I do it. Mmmkay?
My shoulders stiffen as I exit the chat. He’s been threatening me for so long now; it’s time he knows I am not to be threatened.
“Agnus?”
“Yes.”
“Can you drop me somewhere?”
I hit the number on my contacts list and smile for the second time today.
Ronan should not have messed with me. If he bites, I’ll always bite back.
