I’m a guy. I think about sex about as often as any man. So, hourly at the minimum. It’s a constant thought, always there, in the back of the mind. But women aren’t like men. Or so my mother and sister say. They have thoughts, of course, just not always like men. And if a woman is bringing it up in conversation, it could mean either fear or excitement.
Tilting my head, I look at Payton and wonder which it is for her. The blush could mean many things. I can’t rely on that alone. And while the thought of sleeping with her might have entered my mind, I won’t. Not for money, at least.
There are other ways to be with Payton in that way. And I’m not about to cheapen her by doing as such.
Not that she needs to know that.
“We’ll see.” I turn away and move toward the hallway that leads to my room.
“What if I don’t do what you say? What if I say no?”
I stop and turn back to face her. She’s standing now. Her hands are shaking, but she’s keeping them in front of her. And I note that it’s a minor tremble compared to how they were when I first brought her here.
She seems determined, but her eyes are wide. She licks her lips as if she wishes she didn’t say the words. That she could take them back.
“Don’t.” The hard steel in my voice is more shattering to her than if I’d growled or shouted it from the rooftops till her ears bled.
She looks away, swallowing, then stares down at the ground.
Submitting.
She nods.
“Good girl.” I turn and head to bed.
She can try to leave, but I’ve already locked up the place tonight. Danny’s guys, who’ve been here since the Kings arrived, will stick around till morning as well. If she manages to escape, she won’t get far.
Not that I’d let her.
She’s mine now. I own her. And despite being a twin, I never learned to share or let anything go. Ever.
When she emerges from the guest room in the morning, I hide my smile behind my cup of coffee. She looks horrible. Circles under her eyes, hair everywhere, and her faceis worse than yesterday, like my adopted nephew took purple and blue crayons and scribbled on it. Which is an insult to him, as the kid’s in double digits and has moved out of the Pokémon stage and intoFortnite. Coloring inside the lines is way beyond a thing of the past, if he even had time to color. I’m not sure if he got to really be a kid while he ran for his life with my sister.
The thought turns my smile to a frown as I think about the injustices he faced at such a young age. I grab my phone and quickly send him some V-Bucks. The kid only wants one thing right now, and money to buy things in his game is what he’ll get. Not that I think he ever runs out of funds. I know I’m not the only one who randomly sends him the credits. We all feel guilty about what happened to him. He might not have been born of our blood, but that kid is family.
I shake myself out of my dark thoughts as I set the phone down and take another sip of my coffee, once again looking at the siren who’s entered my main living area.
I have many places where I’ve rested my head, both in New York and around the country. But this is the only one I call home. The rest were bought with family money, used as tax breaks and as places to sleep that I know are bedbug-free and secure. This is the only one where I put in any effort to make it the way I wanted it. Sure, most of the design elements and decor were chosen for me, but I got the key elements that I wanted. Big open space. Lots of windows to see out, no one to see in. Danny’s the one who made them bulletproof. He’s also the one who added the safe room, something he requires in every Leone home.
I watch as she takes in the space in the light of day. I always felt like this place had two sides to it. The dark andlight, just like day and night. At night, the moody elements come into play. The fireplace comes on as soon as I enter. The sconces are on a timer, and shadows enhance the mystery of the place. During the day, it’s the opposite. It feels bright, welcoming, and inviting.
Not that Payton got the message. She’s still standing at the entrance to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, tugging on the sweater I lent her last night. It reminds me why I smiled in the first place when I saw her.
Not because she looks like shit, but because she’s here, and what that means. That the dream of owning her isn’t just a dream anymore. It’s the truth. It’s tangible.
And it’s time I start collecting on my investment before Bobby wakes up to find out what the fuck I did and starts yelling at me before I finish my first cup of caffeine.
“Please have a seat.” I tip my chin toward the chair opposite me. The one she sat in last night. The one she never pushed back under the table when she went to bed. I might have turned in before her, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t watching her.
As expected, Danny has cameras all over this place, though he only gets access if I turn them over to him, or he overrides them.
Right now, I’m the only one who’s seen the feed from last night. The only one who saw her stay up for an hour after I left. I watched as she just sat there, at war with herself about what to do. It was clear in her eyes as she looked to the elevator hallway, her only exit, and then to the one that led to her bedroom for the night.
The way she debated with herself, constantly biting her lip. Her remembering that it was a bad idea each timeafter she did it because of the cut. It was compelling. She kept getting lost in thought so much that she looked past the reminder of pain and bit her lip again. Over and over. I was half willing to go out there and spank her ass as a reminder to stop hurting herself, but before I was pushed to the breaking point, she got up and went to bed.
And from the looks of her, her mind didn’t stop the battle even then. I bet she only got an hour of sleep at the most, adding to the bags beneath her eyes.
“Breakfast?” I gesture to the selection of pastries between us, along with a carafe of coffee and orange juice.
