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Ridge chuckled and dropped onto his chair. “Aw, poor Saint’s got it so hard. As if we don’t have our own fucking problems. We had to clean up your parents’ mess.”

Saint’s glare deepened.

“We’ll give you some time to think about it. Just remember, though, the Harlots aren’t stupid. They’ll come looking for their money again and soon. If I were you, I would make sure they couldn’t find me unless I had their cash.” I gestured to the door. “Our offer is only available for forty-eight hours.”

Ridge wriggled his fingers in a wave at Saint, who left the room without a backward glance. As soon as he was gone, Ridge spun around to look at me. “What are you doing, Father?”

I dropped the collar and chain on the desk, then walked over to stand in front of him. I hooked my finger under his chin and raised it, and he didn’t resist. When I leaned close, he sucked in a breath. His nose was slightly rounded, a bit like his mother’s, and so were his cheekbones. The more I stared at him, the more I realized my son was just as attractive as Saint. They were two peas in a pod, the only difference being that Ridge had the upper hand over Saint now.

I smoothed my thumb over his bottom lip, and Ridge leaned into my touch. The struggle between dominance and submission played out in his eyes. He wanted to both obey and fight me.

“Hm.” I smirked. “I might be proud of you yet.”

Patting his cheek, I straightened and strode out of the room. I left Ridge there to think about his next actions. He had a lot to learn, but this meeting proved he could still be taught, and I would be his instructor. If Saint took our offer, then I could educate both of them in something new, and by the end, I would own them. Possess them. Saint and Ridge would belong to me in every way.

4

SAINT

My hands shook as I stared at the large black doggy flap innocently set into the carved wooden door, which was hidden around the back of Uncle Bowie’s mansion. I’d never come in any way except the front, so I had no idea what part of the house this door would allow me to enter, but I’d followed the directions I’d been texted earlier today.

Uncle Bowie was so fucking confident. He’d assumed I would accept his offer and want to meet with him, so he’d summoned me, just like last night, at a specific time. I’d had to leave work early, again, to be here by eight o’clock. I had the sinking feeling I was going to need to quit my job because Uncle Bowie wouldn’t care about anything I had going on outside of his orders.

My hands curled into fists and a cold chill swept over my body.

He knew he had me over a fucking barrel, and he was going to take advantage of the situation. . . of me.

He and Ridge had made that much clear last night, but part of me hadn’t thought they were serious. Maybe Uncle Bowie was trying to scare me or put me in my place? He couldn’t want to fuck me because I was his nephew. Ridge wouldn’t want to fuck me because he hated my guts. There was no way this could be real.

Stepping forward, I touched the doggy flap with my boot and it wobbled. The seal around the outside appeared new. The entrance was definitely big enough for me to fit. Hell, it was big enough for a man double my size. This wasn’t for a dog unless it was a Great Dane. My skin crawled.

This door was meant for a man.

My stomach roiled. I could sort of believe Uncle Bowie would want to fuck me because while our relationship had been strained in the past, it wasn’t outright awful. I looked good and so did he. Was it wrong? Sure, but it wasn’t so terrible I couldn’t imagine enjoying his dick. Ridge, though? He would only want to mess with me and hurt me. I closed my eyes for a second but felt terrified not being able to see here on this property, where everything seemed to be designed to fuck with my head. I forced my eyes open.

Was this all simply a trick to humiliate me? Oh, Saint is a disgusting whore who wants dick so bad he will even spread his legs for his cousin and uncle. I could hear Ridge gloating now. Tears rolled out of the corners of my eyes, but this time they were from anger not fear. Bile bit the back of my throat.

It didn’t matter anymore.

I had zero choices.

I had to see this through.

As I stared blankly at the doggy flap, I noticed a small envelope leaning against the wall next to it. I had been so fixated on that animal-style entrance that I hadn’t taken in much else for several minutes. Bending down, I snatched up the red envelope and flipped it over. I narrowed my eyes on the black wax seal attached to the back. There was an imprint of a fancy G. My gut churned yet again. The seal had belonged to Grammy before she’d died, and she’d often used it on party invitations so everyone would know something fantastic awaited them.

I doubted that was the case this time.

Nervously, I slipped my thumb under the flap and pried it open. Inside was a note and I recognized Uncle Bowie’s handwriting.

Strip, then come in. Pups don’t wear clothes.

My body flashed hot as I reread those words. Was I the pup? I closed my eyes. Humiliation and true defeat swamped me as my dick hardened. I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. I palmed myself and willed the wood to go away, but the more I wanted it gone and worried about what Uncle Bowie would do when I went through that door naked, the firmer I got, until I could feel the damp spot where my leaking dick was pressed to my briefs.

I tossed down the note and began to remove my clothes. It was cold out tonight, so once I got started, flinging my jacket off first, I rushed through the rest of it. I grimaced when I stood with my bare feet on the frigid cement of the path in front of the door. Shivering from the cold made my bruises from the beating I’d taken ache. I glanced down my body. There were purple marks on my stomach, ribs, arms, and legs. I was a fucking mess. Why did Uncle Bowie even want me naked right now? My fucking dick would not quit, and I hated myself as I walked to the door, got on my knees, and pushed through.

Being inside was a relief because even though the floor tiles in the kitchen were rough on my hands and knees, the air was blissfully warm. I felt like Alice crawling through a doorway into insanity. Where is the white rabbit? I stifled a hysterical laugh and came to a stop as my gaze landed on Uncle Bowie’s shiny black dress shoes, then gulped.

“Unless I give you explicit instructions otherwise, this is the only way you may enter my house. Bowed in submission.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor directly in front of himself. My dick twitched and need thrummed in a warm tidal wave through my belly.