That’s what love will do to a dominant man. I fell hard, and fast—then she was saying the words I needed to hear before they were true.
I walked outside and looked up at the sky as smoked rolled off my lips. I never thought I would see it again with such peaceful serenity surrounding me. It was too bad the tranquility of nature didn’t resonate inside me—I was filled with too much turmoil to enjoy the sight. I grew up in chaos, lived it—breathed it—learned to shape it when I had to. But I was no match for a king in a castle on the North Side, nor was I match for his princess when lies spewed from her mouth and destroyed me.
“Can’t sleep?” Brody’s voice echoed behind me.
“No.” I looked over my shoulder at him as he stepped outside. “Too much on my mind.”
“Yeah, same here.” He nodded. “Want to wake the princess up and have another go at her—that might give us a distraction for a little while.”
“No.” I shook my head back and forth. “It’s not the same. It’s just hollow—busting a nut to do it. I might as well be jacking off.”
“Not for me.” He chuckled. “That little slut is much better than my hand.”
“She’s not a slut…” I exhaled sharply.
“Isn’t that how you break them? You call them every degrading name you can come up with and make them believe it?” He tapped a cigarette out of his pack and lit it.
“No, that’s not it at all.” I took a drag and flicked my cigarette butt into the dirt. “There’s supposed to be a connection. It’s supposed to be fiercer than anything else on earth—trust, loyalty—submission.”
“Maybe she needs a daddy instead of a dom.” He shrugged. “She seems to do anything he says…”
“Yeah, but she didn’t know about the meeting—the one I had with her father before everything went to shit.” I exhaled sharply. “I saw that in her eyes—I don’t think she even knows what kind of man her father really is.”
“She has to know.” Brody scoffed. “She grew up in his world—in his fucking castle. There’s no way she doesn’t know he’s the King of Chicago.”
“I hope he feels like a pauper right now—wondering where his princess is.” I turned towards the door. “She won’t be the same girl she was when she walks back into his castle.”
“I still think it would be easier to just kill her.” Brody took a drag off of his cigarette. “If she can’t testify, it’ll be a lot easier to create reasonable doubt. Our fingerprints weren’t even on the fucking gun.”
“I know, but I’d rather see Adrian Prescott behind bars than take my chance with a jury.” I walked inside.
I’m going to turn his princess against him and when she finally does take the stand, she’s going, to tell the truth—then I’m going to decide if I can forgive her or not—if she deserves to call me Master.
One year ago
“Ah, Mr. Connors. Welcome to Prescott Manor. Can I interest you in a drink?” Adrian Prescott greeted me with a warm smile as I sat down across from him.
“Sure.” I nodded.
Who can resist a drink from the King of Chicago when the bottle on his desk costs more than I’ve made all year?
“I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.” He poured a drink and slid it across his desk. “How about a cigar? They’re imported.”
“Sure.” I nodded again and took one from him as I sipped my drink. “Do you want to cut through the bullshit and talk about why I’m here, or do you have something else to offer me?”
“I’ve got a lot to offer you, Mr. Connors.” Adrian Prescott clipped the end of his cigar and lit it. “But yes, we can cut through the bullshit. I know you’re—involved my daughter.”
Yeah, but how much do you know? I was intrigued by the invitation—especially since it didn’t come at gunpoint.
“Then I won’t deny it. I love her.” I nodded and started lighting my cigar.
Fuck, that’s good.
“Love is a funny thing, isn’t it? It makes people do interesting things.” He nodded. “But I’m sure you realize that my daughter will never be able to stay with a man like you. Her future is—predetermined.”
“Yeah, I know your game.” I puffed the cigar and pulled it out of my lips to take another drink. “You rich fucks marry your kids off to other rich fucks.”
“It makes things less complicated that way.” He nodded and exhaled a stream of smoke. “I’ll give you one million dollars to end things with Anabelle. The money will be in your hand—cash—before you leave my office.”