Page 11 of Bought By the Owner's Son
I can’t move, not wanting to break the spell now that he’s finally opening up. So I hold still and I listen, my eyes meeting his as he dredges up the painful memory.
“She told me we had to leave. I remember her panicked expression and the urgency in her voice as she packed bags for us, but I slowed her down, and I kept begging to pack one last thing. So we stayed longer than we should have, and my father came home and found us. I didn’t know she was running fromhim. So when he told me to sleep over at my friend’s place, I didn’t think anything of it—until I got home the next day and he announced that she had died in her sleep. Though I had my suspicions, it wasn’t until years later that I learned of his shady dealings and his involvement in her death.”
His eyes are dark with hurt and pain. “So, when you ask me why I have no pictures or personal touches, it’s because I fucking hate my father, and photos of my mom will only bring back painful memories.”
I close the distance between us and slip my fingers between his, clasping hard. “How old were you when this happened?” I ask.
He exhales softly at my touch, and I watch his stiff body gradually soften. “Twelve.”
Tears well up in my eyes, and my heart aches for the young boy who lost his mother so cruelly. “You were just a boy. You couldn’t have known,” I whisper.
His blue eyes soften on mine. “I know that, and I’ve made peace with it, but I’ve never forgotten.”
I stare at him, wondering if his loss is the reason he hides his emotions so deep that they’ve hardened to jagged edges, or if he lived without love and warmth for so long that he became immune to it. No matter what it is, I’m going to make sure I shower him with as much warmth as I can until he starts to believe that he deserves love.
Love…
Maybe it’s his intense nature, or his quiet and unwavering shield. I don’t know when my gratitude for Lucian transformed into feelings, but I think I’m starting to fall in love with the beautiful, stoic man before me.
“If your old memories hurt you, let’s create new ones. Together. I could use some new memories too—to fill up the blank spots.” I smile warmly at him, then tug him toward the kitchen island. “Come, let’s make breakfast together, the first of many memories we’ll share.”
“Thank you, angel,” he says, and my heart sighs at the genuine smile that graces his face as he raises our joined hands to his lips.
Chapter Six
Lucian
I can’t take my eyes off Elena. The urge to caress her rosy cheek is strong, but I push it down, settling for watching her sleep. I don’t want to take the chance of waking her. I’ve taken her three times during the night, so I know she needs to rest.
Still, I can’t help but think about the way her tight passage grips my cock with such friction that I come so hard I’m in danger of passing out. At the thought, my cock grows yet again beneath the white sheet, and hardens as I imagine her parted lips sucking me dry.
My attraction to her goes beyond the physical, and I’m starting to become attached to her on a deeper level than I ever imagined. Guilt mingles with sadness inside me as I remember the way I fended off her questions about myself and the auction house.
My arousal wanes. For the first time in my existence, I feel ashamed knowing that I allowed my father’s sexual slavery venture to go on for so long. It doesn’t matter that he’s powerful, and that I only let it go on because I wanted to gather enough evidence against him. Elena’s question made me realize that I should have gone about things differently instead of sacrificing hundreds of girls for my need for vengeance.
In little over a day, Elena has broken every emotional barrier I’ve kept up for more than two decades. I never wanted to dealwith emotion, because it cripples one’s capabilities. My mom’s senseless death proved that.
And in order to beat my father at his own game, I had to become ruthless and create an inscrutable image for myself. Now, in my late thirties, Elena has hurtled into my life like a curveball. I wasn’t expecting her, but now I can’t imagine life without her in it. She is a blinding light in my cold, cruel world.
She’s so bright, so pure, that I fear she will one day see me for who I am and run.
Just like my mom ran from my father…
Even though I’ve tried to let Elena know the kind of person I am, I know she can never fully grasp the extent of my ruthlessness. What will happen when she finally comes to know that I’m worse than she imagines? A nightmare. My reach far surpasses my father’s in the criminal world. Can someone like her be with someone like me? If I finally bare it all, will she brave the darkness with me?
No matter the outcome, I’ve branded her mine, and I’ll do anything to keep her safe. Including wiping my asshole father off the face of the earth.
With that thought, I gingerly push away the bedsheet and slide off the bed. I pull on a pair of sweatpants, then leave the suite with my phone in hand. It’s time to speed up the plan I’ve spent years preparing for.
As I walk down the stairs, I dial a familiar number.
Marcus is one of few guards to have gained my trust at the auction house. He, like a few others, finds the clandestine activity going on in the chapel to be distasteful and vile.
“Mr. Devereaux,” his familiar gravelly voice reaches my ears.
“We need to move on with the plan. My patience is wearing thin.”
Between myself and Marcus, we’ve gathered enough evidence to put my father in jail for the rest of his life. But then a rumor started going around about the murder of a popular artist, Warren Flint, and I heard that my father might be responsible for his death. Even though the evidence I have is enough to hold him, I couldn’t pass up the idea of having more evidence on him, so I stalled.
