Magnate (Acquisition Series Book 2) (10 page)

Lucius grinned and pulled Brianne up from her seat. Her eyes still bore a glassy sheen, and I wondered if she would even remember tonight. “You talk to that one. I want to
talk
to this one.”

“That’s my man.” Cal laughed as Lucius dragged Brianne a couple of sofas over and hauled her into his lap. “Now, Sin, if you don’t mind? I do believe Lucius gave permission.” There was an edge in Cal’s voice, and his fingers started to crush mine.

“Sin?” Red jerked his head toward the door. “Can I speak to you?”

“You’re speaking to me right now.” Vinemont didn’t look at Red.

“I mean in private, asshole.” Red’s anger flared like the head of a match in the dark.

I held my breath. Maybe Vinemont would refuse Cal. Maybe something had changed. I was desperate for it to be true.

It wasn’t. Vinemont dropped his hand. Cal sat and yanked me down next to him, the seat still warm from Brianne’s presence.

Vinemont held my gaze, unwavering even as Cal put an arm around me and pulled me closer. Renee’s words about playing along echoed in my mind, but I still had the urge to fight Cal off, to do anything other than submit. I wanted Vinemont to pull me up and take me out of here. Instead, after a second prompting from a jittery Red, Vinemont broke our connection and walked away to speak with him.

Lucius had long since gotten lost in Brianne, his hand in her dress and his mouth on her neck. I was left with Cal.

“So,” he leaned in and inhaled at my ear, “tell me about you, Stella.”

“What, you aren’t going to drug me first like Brianne?” I tried to shift away from him but his grip tightened on my upper arm.

“You think I drugged her?” He tsked and pierced me with a withering look. “She drugged herself when she got here. She’s weak. Can’t handle it. You, on the other hand, handle all of it with surprising grace. The way you took that whipping…” He made a humming sound, as if the memory was particularly tasty for him. “I’ll never forget the blood on your pale skin.”

He released my arm and ran his fingers down my back. I struggled to stay calm.

“You’re something special.” He moved closer, his mouth at my ear. “Did Sin know you were special when he chose you? Or did he only figure it out once he had a taste?”

“Get off me.” I leaned away from him but he clutched my waist and kept me tucked to his side.

“Do you ever behave?” He laughed and let his gaze drop to the deep neckline of my dress and then to the slit at my thigh.

“I’ll scream.” My heart was racing, fear oozing along my body wherever Cal touched me.

“Do you think anyone here will care? Come now. I just want a little taste is all. I have a thing for redheads.” When his lips hit my neck, I had to tamp down my cry. I scanned the room for Vinemont, but he and Red must have stepped into the hall. I couldn’t see Lucius, though I had no hope of help from him anyway.

Cal licked up my neck and I couldn’t bottle the sound of revulsion that leapt from my lips.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” He gripped my chin and wrenched my face to his while he eyed my mouth. I pushed on his chest, ready to scratch and bite if I had to. I couldn’t play along, not with this.

“Cal?” A woman’s warbling voice sounded from behind us.

Cal released me and I was finally able to breathe again. I scooted away from him until my back hit the arm of the love seat.

He adjusted his bow tie and stood, the fake smile already back on his face. “Ms. Devereaux, back so soon?”

Wait,
Devereaux
? She spoke again. I knew her voice. Something like déjà vu but darker swirled in my stomach. I turned. There, standing at my back were my former stepmother, Marguerite Devereaux and my stepbrother, Dylan.

Chapter Ten

Stella

“Dylan?”

My stepbrother rushed around the love seat and sat next to me before folding me in his arms.

“How?” My vision swam, hope trying to fire in my breast but unsure if this was some trick by Cal.

“Are you okay?” His embrace crushed me to the point I had to push away just to breathe.

“I am now. But how are you here?” I searched his eyes, willing it all to be real.

“Because, Stella,” Cal interrupted, “the Devereauxs have long been a family in the upper echelons of society.” He gave Dylan’s mother a respectful nod. “But in just this past month, the lovely Marguerite expressed an interest in finally joining our particular party—the very pinnacle of all society. And we are more than happy to have her and her son, of course.” Cal smiled like a toothy shark.

I wondered how much Marguerite had to pay to be accepted into this den of monsters. We had never been close when she was briefly married to my father. She saw me as more of an inconvenience than anything else. This must have been Dylan’s doing.

Dylan smoothed a hand across my cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just don’t understand—”

“And you never will, Stella. Because we’re different breeds.” Cal looked down at me, as if I were an unruly child who needed to learn her manners. “Dylan here has an affection for you, clearly, but how much affection can a lion truly have for a lamb? He doesn’t realize it, but you’re beneath him, just like you’re beneath everyone else in this room. It doesn’t matter if we dress you up, put jewels on you, or whatever else.”

“You don’t have to talk to her like that.” Dylan’s voice was gruff, though he still palmed my cheek tenderly.

“I’m just stating the facts, Dylan. That’s all. No need for unpleasantness. Marguerite, may I show you my particular favorite orchid here in the solarium? Give these two a chance to catch up?”

Marguerite stared at me and then her son before shaking her head and taking Cal’s arm. She’d studied me the same way the entire time I’d known her, like I was a curious animal or insect. Interesting enough to examine, but too low to approach or engage. Without a word, she walked away as Cal began waxing poetic about plants.

Dylan hugged me again just as fiercely before holding me away from him. “It worked. I can’t believe we’re in and I’m here with you.” He smiled, youth beaming from his tanned skin and light brown eyes.

“Can you get me out?”

His face soured, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “I don’t know. Cal hasn’t been very forthcoming about the whole process you’re caught up in.”

“The Acquisition?”

He nodded. “Right. He says there’s going to be a big Christmas party next weekend where we’ll get the idea of what it’s all about.”

“Next weekend?” I thought I had more time. I thought I had at least two more weeks. But no, Christmas was coming early. A wave of nausea washed over me, but I had to focus. I needed information.

“Yeah, he says it’s a big to-do out at someone’s house in a forest up north of here. Two-day party. I have no idea. I’m not much of an outdoorsman, but Cal assured me I’d enjoy the hunting.” He shrugged, completely oblivious.

My heart sank and tears burned in my eyes. “So you’re coming to the Christmas trial?”

“Yeah, we kind of have to. It’s part of the whole joining the club thing. And maybe once I get more in with them, I can get you out. You’ll be there, right?”

“Yes.” I stared at the floor.

“Stella, what?” He gripped my hands. “And what do you mean by trial?”

“Christmas. It’s a trial.”

“Like with your dad?”

I shook my head and looked at him again, my tears barely held at bay. “I’ve already been through one trial.”

“I’m not following.” He held my hands tighter, as if the pressure would somehow make him understand. But there was only one way he would comprehend what I was talking about. I had to show him.

I twisted my body so I faced away from him. The gasp when he saw my back and the touch of his fingers along my skin made two tears fall—perfect, transitory drops that were lost in the black fabric of my dress.

“Who did this to you?” Dylan’s voice was a strangled whisper.

“They all did.”

“Cal?” His fingertips stroked across each mark.

“No, but it doesn’t matter who did it. It’s them. All of them. They all do it.” Why didn’t I want to tell him Vinemont had inflicted the wounds? I could have said, could have named him, but I didn’t.

I looked up and caught Lucius staring at me, his eyes burning even as Brianne was pliant under his touch. She was straddling him now, her skirt hiked up and her hands in his hair. He palmed one of her tits, his other hand on her ass, as she kissed his neck. Even so, his direct gaze was on me, pinning me to the spot. My mind spun out of the conversation with Dylan even as his fingers still traced the memory of the tortures written on my skin.

Lucius gripped Brianne’s breast harder, her head lolling back as he twisted her nipple. I swallowed hard, a tingling erupting along my same breast. He pulled down Brianne’s dress and latched his mouth on her nipple, his eyes never leaving mine. Her moan cut through the string ensemble and my heart sped up. When he gripped her hair and yanked her head back so that she arched into him, I let out a pent up breath.

“—Stella?”

I forced myself to look away from him, to engage with the one man in this cursed place who I knew cared about me.

“Are they going to do that to your back again at Christmas?” Dylan’s face was pale, the color drained like water from a sink.

“No.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle something like that.”

“Have you seen my dad?” I blurted it out. I shouldn’t have cared what happened to him, but seeing Dylan brought my mangled feelings for my father back to the forefront. Had Dylan’s message that my father was ill been true?

“He’s fine. Not sick or anything. Don’t worry. Just concerned about you. He’s the one that thought of this. There was no way to get you out, he said. But maybe if the Devereauxs could get in, we could help you. You’re all he talks about. Trust me, he wants you away from here. He wants you safe and back with him.”

Dylan’s words were meant to comfort me, but they were a rusty blade in my stomach. My father had not only betrayed me, but now he’d betrayed Marguerite and Dylan. Entering this realm was not something done lightly, and though I didn’t know for certain, I was sure there was no easy way out. My father had doomed Dylan to become one of the monsters that was seated around us now, the villains in beautiful clothes with perfect manners and a taste for blood.

“Don’t change the subject, Stella. What happens at Christmas?” He furrowed his brow.

How can I tell him?

“What happened before…to my back.” I shook my head. “Christmas will be worse.”

“What could be worse?” He pulled me into his arms and ran his palms down my shoulders. “What could be worse than this?”

A shadow fell across us. “Get your hands off her.” Vinemont glowered at Dylan, his hands fisted at his sides, the still-bruised knuckles turning white.

“You bastard. You did this to her, didn’t you?” Dylan stood, rage already turning his cheeks a bright shade of crimson.

Vinemont sneered and affected a bored air. “You don’t know what you’re talking—”

Dylan shoved him, and Vinemont took a few steps back before smirking. “I’ve been wanting a good fight since I got back from Cuba.” He appraised Dylan. “Too bad I still won’t get one.”

Vinemont was fast, his fist crushing into Dylan’s jaw in a scant moment. But Dylan didn’t fall. He was strong, well-muscled from rowing and lacrosse. He took the impact and rushed forward, seizing Vinemont around the chest and slamming him into the marble floor. The other guests, smelling blood, stopped their small chatter and watched the show.

“Dylan, stop.” I stood and stepped toward them, but they both ignored me.

Vinemont laughed as Dylan caged him with his knees and started raining blows on his face. Vinemont wasn’t blocking them, just taking the vicious hits until he saw his moment. Then he aimed a powerful fist to Dylan’s ribs. Dylan wailed and fell sideways, clutching his side. Vinemont pushed Dylan onto his back and put a knee on his chest before raising his fist.

“No. Please, don’t.” I grabbed Vinemont’s arm. I knew what he could do, what he was capable of. “Don’t.”

He turned to me, his eyes wild and wrathful. I let go of his arm and ran my hand down his face, brushing my thumb over his split lip. His flesh burned beneath my touch, but his eyes cooled and he leaned into my palm the slightest bit. I felt it then, the one thing I wished had completely died that night when he’d shown me how truly alone I was. The string that bound us together, the inexorable link that ran from his heart to mine, came back to life. The connection tightened, and he rose as Dylan sputtered. Vinemont took my hand in his and leaned over me. He was so close. Everything stopped. My eyes closed of their own accord and I wanted his kiss, his blood, him. I just wanted him.

“Fuck, Sin. If you aren’t going to finish it, I will.”

I opened my eyes to see Lucius aiming a kick at Dylan’s side. “Stop!”

Too late. Dylan howled with pain as Lucius’ foot connected. I dropped to my knees and draped my arm across Dylan as he curled into a ball. I held my free hand up, trying to ward off Lucius.

Lucius straightened his coat and smiled. “Lesson of the day,
Dylan.
Don’t fuck with us or our property.”

“She’s not property.” Dylan coughed and rolled to his back.

The chatter started again, the momentary blood sport at an end.

“She’s mine, you little shit. That’s all you need to know.”

“Ignore him. Come on.” I helped Dylan into a sitting position. “Are you okay?” I felt along his ribs and he winced. They could have been broken for all I knew. “Can you walk?”

“I-I think so.”

Lucius stepped over Dylan’s legs to stand at my side and peered down at me. “Come on, Stella.”

I glared at him, acid in my gaze. “No! Back off, Lucius.”

I hitched my hand under Dylan’s arm to try and help him to his feet, but a searing pain along my scalp had me crying out. Lucius wrenched me from the floor by my hair and brought my face to his.

“You will do as I say, Stella. Every—fucking—time.” His eyes flashed and his voice was thick with malice.

I spat in his face, anger flowing up through me like lava. “Fuck you.”

“Enough,” Vinemont growled, and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me away from Lucius. I dug my fingers into him and tried to pry his hand loose. His mouth was at my ear. “Stop making a scene. Stop making us have to hurt you.”

I stilled against his chest, but scowled at Lucius. He drew out his kerchief and popped it before wiping his face. He smiled as he did it, as if enjoying some private joke.

Everything had turned into a fight. More blood, more pain—I was awash in the cruelest of emotions, and in a few days, things would only get worse.

Dylan struggled to his feet, his breath coming in quick pants. I wanted to go to him, but I didn’t. Vinemont’s strong arms had me rooted to the spot.

Cal and Marguerite emerged from amongst the fronds and fountains, laughing politely. Dylan smoothed his jacket and shot Lucius a dark look before turning to his mother.

“How was it?” he asked.

“The orchid? Glorious,” Marguerite simpered. “Makes me think of having the greenhouse at the Acres rebuilt.”

Cal gave a slight bow and handed Marguerite off to Dylan, who smiled despite what must have been an aching pain in his ribs on both sides.

“What did I miss?” Cal asked.

Given his narrowed gaze and even haughtier demeanor, I surmised Cal never missed much of anything.

“Just some rough and tumble antics. You know how it is when boys get together.” Vinemont’s smooth words covered the jagged scrapes and bruises of only moments before.

“I do. But we want to treat our new guests with utmost respect at all times. We are so pleased to have them here in our midst.” Cal’s chiding tone was buried in an over-friendly smile as he patted Dylan on the back.

“Of course. Glad to be here.” Dylan fell into his easy manners, learned through a life of the best schools, fancy dinners, debutante balls, and the like. He wasn’t rocking the boat in front of Cal. Maybe he was smarter than I’d given him credit for in the past.

When he shook Cal’s hand, I realized that some of what Cal had said was true. Dylan was one of them. He was born and bred to fall right in step with these people. Doubt crept into my mind. Marguerite must have made a sizeable investment to get into this party. Dylan would be risking his family fortune and his future if he tried to take my side in anything having to do with the Acquisition.

“Well, it’s been fun, but Stella here will turn into a peasant—I mean pumpkin—if we don’t get her back home soon.” Lucius patted Dylan on the back far too hard, and Dylan gritted his teeth at the second assault.