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What people don’t know is it almost ripped us apart. Up until then, we’d lived pampered, if not hard, lives. Our father was a strict, powerful man who demanded perfection. When they killed him and came for my siblings, the world fell apart. Everything I thought mattered was pointless, trivial bullshit.
I scorched the earth to get my brothers back, rooted out the ones who took them, preying on their weaknesses until they broke and their plan shattered. By the time I was through with them, the walls dripped with their blood, my hands permanently stained red.
To the outside world, I’m the billionaire prince, heir to the family fortune.
To our world, I’m the Lord they fear.
Darkness settles over me as malice flows through my veins, and my heart kicks at my ribs. I sold my soul to get my brothers back, killing anything decent inside me. There’s no telling what will happen if someone’s stupid enough to try again. A slick, dangerous rage burns in my chest, threatening to take over.
“Let’s send a reminder.” My voice is cold, ice licking up my tongue.
“Consider it done,” Matthias responds, and then the line goes dead.
Pink flashes in my peripheral vision as I approach my office. The swirl of purples, greens, and navy pulls me out of the sea of gray I’ve fallen into. With each step, my chest loosens, and my heart pounds for a new reason.
She’s practically glowing where she stands inside the door, straightening a folder on my desk. She’s wearing a green skirt that hugs her hips and ass and a crisp dress shirt that’s tailored perfectly. A stray dark pink strand untucks itself from her bun, and my fingers itch to tuck it back behind her ear. My mouth waters, and I stop myself from pushing her into the desk and running my hands up her thighs to see what color she’s wearing underneath.
Clear green eyes meet mine, going wide for a heartbeat before narrowing.
Misty crosses her arms. “You’re late.”
Fuck. My cock swells as she glares at me, chin held high, shoulders back, and her eyes glued on my face. Tension is taut between us, and I’m instantly pulled toward her. I take slow, calculating steps and watch as a warm flush darkens the tops of her breasts and climbs up her neck before covering her cheeks. Her mouth is cracked open, and for a brief moment, I forget to breathe.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She places her hands on her hips.
“Like what?” I ask, amused.
“Like you’re some kind of scary Big Bad Wolf.”
I raise a brow, and the corner of my lip tilts up. I shouldn’t press her, but I can’t stop. “Why? Does it make you nervous? Uncomfortable? Or is it that it makes you wet, like it did the other night? I think I crack your perfectly constructed shell. I like you like this. So no, Miss Hart. I will not stop. Not when you look at me the same way.”
She rolls her eyes. “Hardly. I think you think you’re scary.”
My voice is dark, and a low rumble grows deep in my throat. “That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Hart. Most people would say there is every reason to be afraid of me. That I’ve earned their fear.” Her breath hitches as I close the distance between us. I lift my hand and capture the loose strand of hair, wrapping it around my finger. Her gaze is locked on mine, pupils taking over the green. Her chest rises and falls rapidly with her breaths the closer I move toward her, but she doesn’t back away, feet firmly planted on the floor, chin held high, showing just how little she fears me. Fuck, she’s perfect. I tuck the strand behind her ear. “But not you, Nymph. You’ve got nothing to fear from me.”
Her exhale is a soft hiss between her teeth, and then her cheerful mask closes over her features, and she takes a step back. “Good, because we have work to do. I spoke with your mother, and she and I went through a list of potential…” Her eyes dart to the side, breaking from mine. “…brides for you. We can go over the list, then I’ll book the restaurants accordingly.” Each of her words comes out faster than the last, as if she’s practiced them over and over and can’t wait to get them out. “I can call the woman to set it up, but I think even you can see the merit of reaching out yourself. This may be a marriage of convenience, but no reason to skip all formalities.”
“Did you now?” A darkness licks up my veins and heats my skin, and I barely suppress the growl from emerging from my chest. Despite the fact that she’s doing what I asked, it pisses me off that she’s able to set me up with other women. I want her to feel the same jealousy as I do. I want it to climb up her chest and eat her alive. I want her to squirm with the idea of me with anyone else. Soon, she’ll know this is all pointless, that she belongs to me.
The only thing that’s saving her is the way her body has angled itself away from mine and the fact that her head tilts down, like she doesn’t want to meet my eyes. No sight of the fierce presence she was before.
Silently, I walk to my cabinet, open a drawer, and pull out a cigar, ignoring the look she’s giving me. I light it, sucking the sweet smoke down my lungs and letting it numb the anger burning there. My Little Nymph has no idea what she’s set off in me. I take a seat, legs splayed wide, and lean back in one of the large club chairs located in the corner of my office. I take another drag and pierce her with my gaze, happy to see the shiver that runs over her arms, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
“Show me.” I dare her to proceed.
She clears her throat, giving her head a gentle shake, and reads from her notes. “There’s Miss Davenport.”
“Pretty,” I say and fight the smile at the way her teeth clench together. “Unfortunately, I prefer my women to be able to think for themselves. Next?”
She visibly relaxes, then says the next name. “Evelyn Menard.”
I blow out a long stream of smoke. “You can do better than that.”
She rambles off several more names, frustration building in her as I shoot them all down easily.
“You can’t say no to everyone,” she says sharply, exasperation getting the best of her. I’m pleased to see how uncomfortable she’s getting, that she keeps turning to the door like she’d rather be doing anything but pitching me potential bride ideas.
I don’t respond because that’s exactly what I plan to do.
