Captured and forced to marry Henrik, Megara vows never to forget his monstrous behavior... but her hatred for her husband doesn't weaken her attraction to him.
Henrik chases his legacy with the ferocity and strength worthy of a God. He will not be deterred, and he will not fail. Nothing will stand in his way. Not even a wife.
But Henrik's strength can not keep Megara's beautiful soul from seeping into his heart. A choice is coming, between everything he ever wanted and the one thing he didn't know he needed.
Chapter One
Her neck snapped as he thrust once more; the last ripples of his orgasm fading in time with the life draining from her body.
Henrik pulled out of her warm body and, using the crumpled-up bedding, wiped himself clean of her remnant. Tossing the blood-stained linen onto her lifeless body, he went in search of his pants.
He twisted his torso to stretch the tight muscles of his back. It had been a long fucking day, and he still had unfinished business that would keep him away from his bed for hours.
After buckling his belt, he gave the woman on the bed another glance. Smooth skin kissed sweetly by the summer sun, round ass, and legs that could probably wrap around him twice. Such a waste.
He went about gathering his phone and his gun, tucking it at his waist before shoving himself into his jacket.
Oliver stood outside the door waiting for him in the hallway.
“Shit.” Henrik glared at him. “You didn’t need to stay right at the fucking door.” He pulled the door to the bedroom closed and began walking down the long corridor to the winding staircase.
“He’s already downstairs,” Oliver said.
“Good.” Henrik tugged the sleeve of his shirt beneath his jacket. He jogged down the staircase easily, the same as he’d done his entire life. “My father?” he asked.
“On his way. The plane took off half an hour ago.” Oliver hesitated. “Your mother is with him.”
Henrik stopped several feet from his office door, where two of his men stood. “My step-mother,” he clarified as he turned around to face Oliver, his first in command. “Wh
y is she coming with him? I thought she was spending the summer overseas.”
“I don’t know, and I wasn’t about to ask. Your step-mother goes where she wants.” Oliver spoke plainly. Henrik had known him since they were both two young boys taking peeks into the girls’ locker room after gym class. Not a practice either of them needed to continue as they grew older. Woman needed no coaxing to enter his bed.
“If they took off half an hour ago, we have maybe another hour and a half before they storm through my front doors. Best to have this situation finished with before he gets here.” His father disliked dealings with the Creon family and left the matter at Henrik’s door.
Henrik entered his office.
“Gentleman.” Henrik’s voice boomed into the room. Christian Creon may be the head of his family, and several decades older than him, but Henrik was still man of this house. He would not cower to their supposed power.
A firm handshake handed out to Christian and a curt nod to his two men standing in the background. Henrik waved Christian into his chair as he rounded the large mahogany desk to his own seat. As a child he used the hulking piece of furniture in his games of hide and seek. His father would always keep his silence as Henrik, hid at his feet while the other children searched the house for him. None of them would dare enter Jackson Olympus’ office without being granted permission.
But this wasn’t childhood. This was no longer his father’s desk. This was Henrik’s office, his home, his business.
“Matthew McKinley will no longer be a problem for you,” Henrik says confidently.
Christian’s tense expression softens. “You are sure?”
“Saw to it myself.” Henrik confirmed. “His body has been delivered to his wife this afternoon with instructions on what she should do. My men tell me, she’s already packed herself and the children up and left the city.”
“The men loyal to him-”
“Men can be bought.” Henrik said plainly. “And without the head of their family, they’re lost. Easy pickings.”
Christian relaxed in his seat, unbuttoning his jacket. He could relax now. Wars between the families had to be dealt with delicate hands. Even with Jackson’s permission to take out the newest family to the Network, it was best the Creon’s didn’t handle it themselves. Sending Henrik to deal with it assured no backlash from any of McKinley’s allies. Not that there were many. McKinley was a backstabbing cheap steak. Families within the Network didn’t look kindly on that.
Now with McKinley handled, Christian would be gifted the abandoned territory and he could peddle his whores and his drugs without competition.
A commotion outside the office drew Christian’s attention. The door flew open and a man rushed through. Henrik’s men followed, hunger for a fight written all over their faces.