Arranged love

I spin around, and my eyes glare at him. “You’re a sorry bastard.”

He gives me a smirk. “Your father put you in this position. Not me, honey.”

“You’re taking advantage of it,” I snap. But I don’t believe him. My father would not do this to me. To my mother. He loved us. He would have taken care of us. No matter what.

He shrugs. “Take it or leave it, Emilee.” Then he dismisses me, turning to the computer.

Storming over to my father’s desk, I smack my hands down on it. He looks up at me. “I won’t …”

“Careful, Emilee. Think long and hard before you answer. I’m the man of the house now.”

I scoff. “You may have a dick and balls, but you’re not a fucking man.”

He slaps me across the face so hard it has my entire body whipping around, and I fall flat on my face. Pain explodes in my cheek, and my breath is taken away from the impact to the hard floor. My eyes sting, and my cheek throbs. I close my eyes, biting my lip to keep from making a sound when I want to scream from the pain.

He sighs heavily from above me.

I sit up and look down to my legs and notice my dress has ridden up. I grab the hem and shove it down quickly, trying to cover myself up.

His dark chuckle fills the large office.

The door opens, and my head whips up to see a woman about my age walk in with several pieces of paper in her hand. She doesn’t acknowledge me in any way. “Here are the papers for Miss Lee, sir.”

That’s my mom’s maiden name.

He takes them from her, saying nothing, and she leaves just as quickly as she entered.

He tosses one to the floor in front of me, and I pick it up. I read over it, and it’s a medical bill. Twenty-five thousand dollars and thirty cents. I swallow the lump that starts to suffocate me.

I look up to meet his eyes and they are on my legs. I try to push my dress down farther, but it’s pulled too tight. I stand. What if he forces me …?

“I’m not gonna rape you, Emilee,” he says as if reading my mind, and my breathing picks up.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Then his eyes run up my body, hovering on my chest before finally meeting mine. “No, you’re going to open those pretty legs of yours and allow me to fuck that pussy all on your own.”

My entire body goes rigid, and a coldness sets in my bones. His words sound so final as though my future is already decided. He knows he has me at a disadvantage. I don’t have the kind of money for my mom’s care, and I don’t have any way to make that much, that fast. And I won’t allow her to go without the best care money can buy.

It’s extortion. But what can I do? How do I prove that?

He picks up the scotch he poured and hands it to me, saying nothing.

I hold it in my hand and look at the amber liquid. It’s like he’s offering me a present. Something that can dull the pain, but it won’t be enough. I’m a cheap drunk, but I’m not a whore. I don’t sleep around. I don’t spread my legs for any guy who looks my way.

He reaches out, and I stiffen when I feel his hand on my thigh. I swallow the bile and spin around quickly to face him and throw the drink in his face. “I will not let you do this to me or my mother.”

“You little bitch.” He reaches for me, but I run for the door and yank it open, hitting him in the face. He falls onto his ass at the impact.

I run like hell down the hall.

“Emilee?” my father’s assistant calls out my name, but I ignore her as I take the emergency exit, not even bothering to wait for the elevator.

TITAN

I SIT BACK in my seat at our custom black stone conference table. A skull is carved out of the middle. Kingdom is written in gold letters at both ends of the table. I sit at one, Bones the other. The thick, black curtains pulled closed to keep the sun out of the room.

Bones looks down at his watch and lets out a growl. “Where the fuck is he?”

“Grave is always late.” I state the obvious.

Bones called an emergency meeting after we got the call about Nick York. All kinds of red flags have now gone up, and we need to discuss our next step.

Cross sits to my right, holding his Zippo in his hand. The sound of him flipping it open and then closing it is grating on my already short nerves. My headache still lingers like a one-night stand refusing to leave after I’m done with them.

“We’ll start without Grave.” Bones slaps the table.

“I say we kill George,” Cross announces, straight to business.

I shake my head. “Dead men can’t pay debts.”

“No, but with Nick and George both dead, we can take the company,” he counters.

I snort. “And exactly what are you going to do with it? You don’t have enough spare time as it is.”

“The company is not up for grabs,” Bones states. “Titan is correct about already being spread too thin. Plus, I don’t want the hassle.”

“I’m sure Nick has left it to Emilee. She would be more than willing to sell it to us.” Cross shrugs.

“How would you know what she would do?” I ask.

“Common sense. She doesn’t even live here. You think she’ll move back here to take it over?” He shakes his head.

Okay, let’s try another way. “What do you know about construction?”

He rolls his eyes. “It can’t be that hard.”

Just then the door opens, and Grave enters the conference room. His blue eyes are red. His dark hair stands up in every direction and his clothes are wrinkled. He looks like he just woke up on the side of the street, which could be a very likely possibility.

Bones stands from his chair and crosses his arms over his chest as his little brother falls into a black leather chair. Lifting his chin, he glares down at him. “Where in the fuck have you been?” Bones demands.

“Don’t start.” He throws back his can of Red Bull like it’s a shot. “You should be glad I even made an appearance.”

Bones slaps his hands down on the table. “This is serious!” he shouts. “We were recently notified that George wasn’t going to pay us, and now his partner is dead. Looks pretty fucking suspicious to me.”

“Hey, I told you that we shouldn’t have loaned George that money,” Grave argues.

Cross lets out a whistle, and I shake my head.

Bones drops his head and runs his hand through his spiked hair. I’m just waiting for him to drag his brother across this conference table. It wouldn’t be the first time. The only difference between Bones and Grave is that Bones is sober enough to actually do some damage at the moment. “He came to us and needed the money. We loaned it. That’s it. Now that it’s time for him to pay up, he wants to back out on his word, and we don’t fucking tolerate that.” Bones is saying all of this through gritted teeth.

I gotta say he’s got more restraint than usual.

“Are we sure the money was for George?” I ask.

Three sets of eyes land on mine.

“Who would it have been for?” Cross asks with a rise of his brow.

“Nick,” Bones answers, knowing what I’m thinking. He falls into his seat.

I sit up straighter. “He’s come to us before, and we helped him out.”

“He also paid us back,” Cross says. “Sooner than we had agreed on.”