Page 99 of Empire of Ache & Ruin

“May I remind you that your last phone is still at the bottom of the pond. I can’t take that risk again.” He nuzzles my neck, rolling his hips into me. “I can’t have you setting up clandestine meetings while I’m at work.”

“You can’t keep me like this, away from the world and the people I care about.” I’m pushing my luck, but until I get this one freedom back, I won’t feel like Archer and I have a normal relationship. I’m still not sure I can call what we have a marriage. Even if he’s talking to me now, I can sense he’s still keeping secrets.

“Oh yes, I can, Little Dove. I thought I had made that point very clear.” He sucks on the cord of my neck. The sting of it tells me he’s doing it to leave his mark on me. “You’re mine.” He plows hard into me in a relentless pace. “I’m not letting you go. And you’re sure as hell not making any more plans to see your ex.”

“I didn’t go out there to see him. And you know that.” A moan escapes my lips when he pulls out.

“The answer is no.” He pins my wrists over my head, flips me onto my stomach, and continues to fuck me from behind.

I grip the sheets, fighting to contain my orgasm. It feels wrong to find pleasure while he’s telling me that in so many ways I’m still his prisoner. I can’t leave his house. And I can’t have contact with the outside world.

“Archer,” I call for him as he reaches under me to tease my clit.

“I want to see you come.” His fingers slide up and down my folds, and it’s pure bliss.

“No.” I don’t feel like following his orders.

“Now, Little Dove.” He inserts a finger in my butthole, while he tortures my aching clit with his other hand. All the while plunging into me to the hilt.

The pressure is too much to bear. He’s touching me everywhere at once. Pleasure erupts at my core and shoots like lightning to the rest of me. I come hard as he claims my mouth, while wrenching another climax from me.

“Don’t ask me to set you free. That will never happen,” he murmurs in my ear.

CHAPTER24

A REMINDER OF WHAT’S TRULY IMPORTANT

Paloma

The next morning, the sun peaks through a sliver in the drawn curtains. The fire in the fireplace is down to a few embers, and Archer is gone. I punch the pillow where his head should be. I make to get out of bed, but the soreness between my legs brings me to a halt. Fine. I can’t be too mad at him for leaving so early. After all, he did indulge me for hours last night. Smiling, I rest my head on the pillow and stare at the ceiling.

The man is infuriatingly hot.

I know he used sex to throw me off his scent. I get it. He can’t love me because something is going on with his life. And it has nothing to do with me or other women. It can’t be work. According to my brother Chuck, Archer is a genius when it comes to business. It’s why he has more money than anyone we know. It’s how he was able to pay six million dollars for me without batting an eye.

Maybe it has something to do with his family. There’s a reason why he sent them away shortly after I arrived. He probably didn’t want Gardenia saying more than she should. That has to be it—some dark family secret.

I climb out of bed and head for the shower. If Archer has secrets, I know exactly where to start looking.

My first day here, I couldn’t sleep. I left my room before dawn and roamed the mansion until I ended up in the forbidden wing. I didn’t get to see much of it other than the fact that it had, for the most part, been destroyed in a fire. When Archer found me, he was furious. He scared me so much that night, I ran to my room and didn’t come out for days.

I haven’t thought about that first day in weeks. It feels like it happened so long ago. But now that I’ve gotten to know Archer a little more, I’m certain that the clue to whatever he’s hiding is in there.

The foyer is empty this early in the morning. Darting to Archer’s study, I confirm quickly that he isn’t working. Maybe he’s still downstairs in his gym or he went into the city to work. Either way, I have time to take another peek at the forbidden wing.

With my heart thrumming in my chest, I cross the foyer and sneak under the tarp covering the old set of stairs. This part of the house hasn’t been renovated at all, which I find odd because for the last two months since I’ve been here, there have been several workers going in and out. What exactly have they been working on?

I keep going until I reach the third floor. The crimson carpet lining the corridor is worn and stained, but it’s obvious someone has at least dusted and wiped down the thin wallpaper on the walls. Archer mentioned his great-grandfather built this place, which would make the mansion over a hundred years old. While all the living spaces in the rest of the house are modern and completely renovated, this entire floor looks like it hasn’t been touched in years.

Stopping at the end of the hallway at what would be Archer’s suite on the west wing, I pause to glance up at the massive double door. Long tendrils of smoke stains paint the top side of the doorframe. I shouldn’t pry like this, but what choice do I have? Using my body weight, I push open the door. Debris, mostly dead leaves and rags, drag across the marble floors.

What happened here?

The scattered chairs and tables look like someone broke them on purpose. The built-in shelves are burned and covered in soot. Like Archer’s suite, the terrace beyond the oversized fireplace covers the length of the room. But instead of the floor-to-ceiling glass door, it has French double doors, which are wide open.

A gust of wind rushes through and brings in more dead leaves. I rub my arms over my cashmere sweater, shivering against the bitter cold. Whatever secrets Archer is hiding here, figuring them out will take a long time. I have no clue where to begin. But I’m already here, and I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to snoop around.

I veer to the right of the room and start to look for anything that might look like a personal effect. Not surprisingly, I make it all the way around and find nothing but dilapidated furniture and burned paintings. I make my way to the wall on the far end to take a look at a portrait that is still hanging. I try to make out the face, but it’s all charred.

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