Page 12 of Beast

“My wife has a niece, a lovely lass?—”

“No!” I say firmly. “No blind dates, no setups. I'll figure it out myself.”

“Well, you'd better do it soon, son. If you don't fulfil your commitments, your position in the club could be challenged.”

I don’t bother hiding my irritation. I’m well aware of my responsibility. I know I need a wife. But here’s the fucking kicker. It has to be a genuine union. A president cannot enter a marriage of convenience. It has to be a true connection. One that shows unity and strength. Or, you guessed it, my presidency could be challenged.

It's like a fucking curse.

Lars falls into the chair beside me. So far tonight he’s celebrated with a lot of wine, and his eyes are gleaming with trouble. He pats the front of my cut with the back of his hand. “Sophia has brought her cousins tonight. Two very excitable girls who would like to spend the night with the new president and his best friend.”

I follow his gaze to the two beauties watching us from across the room by the bar. Beautiful out-of-towners with luscious curves and eager smiles.

“Not tonight,” I say.

Lars looks disappointed.

“But don’t let me stop you,” I add.

His eyes light up. “I mean, if you insist…”

He’s already risen to his feet and is walking away.

I watch him move through the crowd and return to the two beauties, almost amused when he slumps his arms round both their shoulders and disappears into the night with them.

I quietly observe the celebrations around me. It’s what I do. Always the observer. Never the participator.

It wasn’t always this way. I used to participate. I used to participatea lot. Absentmindedly, I reach up and touch my face and feel the familiar raised skin of my scars. But that’s not who I am anymore.

The song pounding through the room changes to CCR’s, “Tombstone Shadow”. Everybody seems to be determined tohave a wild, wonderful night, but I can't shake the feeling something isn't right.

I cast my eye around the room. That’s when I realize Gaston isn’t here.

I stop Bear as he walks past me. I reach out and grab his wrist. “Where is Gaston? Where is my goddamn brother?”

CHAPTER 5

BELLE

I’msound asleep when the hand slides over my chin and clamps down on my mouth. My eyes flick open, and I see a pair of cold, dark eyes looking down at me.

Gaston.

“Wakey wakey, princess.”

My cry is strangled in the back of my throat as Gaston presses down harder on my mouth. He presses a finger across his thin, cruel lips to hush me.

“It will only make things worse for you,” he says.

Fear tunnels through me, but I manage to control my emotions. Men like Gaston want control, but I’ve learned if you let them think they have it, you can take it from them before they ever notice.

He feels me relax and flashes me a chilling smile.

“Good girl. Now, I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen, and you’re going to listen to me real good. We’re going out to the kitchen and you’re going to do exactly what I say, or I am going to make sure whatever I decide to do with youreally hurts, do you understand me?” I nod against his hand. “Good. Now I am going to remove my hand, but if you scream or call for help, I promise you, Belle, Iwillhurt you.”

The moment his hand leaves my lips I sit up and gasp for breath. But the respite is short lived because Gaston hauls me to my feet with a harsh yank.

Pausing, his eyes sweep over my panties and tank top with lascivious joy. It’s cold and my nipples are tight pebbles beneath the flimsy fabric. Feeling his gaze on them, I quickly wrap my arms around my chest. But he just scoffs and shoves me across my bedroom and through the doorway toward the little kitchen where two thugs have my uncle tied to a chair.

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