Page 27 of Domination

Bren ignores his brother’s snide remarks and pulls out the chair beside me while Oscar glares at my feet on the table, then opts for the chair the farthest away. It’s clear the man has issues, but I’ve never considered analyzing them, mainly because the O’Connells are not a threat, they’re allies.

“Do you always get someone else to speak for you?” I mock toward Bren.

He turns his head toward Oscar. “Oscar, shut the fuck up.” Then he brings his attention back to me. “Happy?” He smirks.

Oscar looks as thrilled as Rafael did when he discovered I don’t intend on letting my pet loose. Nope, the man looks like he’s struggling with an internal battle. He rolls his lips and stares down at a tablet. Something he carries everywhere with him. What secrets that device must hold. Lies too, no doubt.

My phone buzzes, and I glance toward it, my fingers twitching to check if it’s Gracie or not.

“Bren likes them younger too. Don’t you, Bren?” Rocco smirks, and Bren glances toward the phone. Right now, I’m ready to castrate my son.

Bren simply lifts a shoulder. “Like the fact my woman hasn’t had another cock.” He smirks back at Rocco, whose jaw sharpens. We can agree on the fact it’s satisfying to know our women are barely touched. The thought of the prick who impregnated my girl has me feral, but I remain headstrong and determined to erase all thoughts of the man from her mind and body.

I blow out a heavy, bored sigh and drop my feet to the floor, focusing on Bren and going straight for the kill. “Tell me, what are your connections with the MC?”

Bren barely blinks and glares back at me. “No connection.” He lifts one of his broad shoulders, and I narrow my eyes with irritation.

“You expect me to believe that?” Fury pumps in my bloodstream at his refusal to admit they are connected. “You want us to sign a contract with an MC we know fuck all about, and you’ve the nerve to tell me you haveno connections or dealings with them?” My voice gets louder on each word.

“Trust me. They’re good people,” he grunts. Good fucking people? They’re a MC.

“Nineteen minutes, twelve seconds,” Oscar drawls out, irritating me further, and I grind my molars so loud it’s a wonder they can’t hear it.

“You trust them?” I snarl back at Bren.

“Good guys.” He shrugs. His lack of words is a trait of his, one that hasn’t bothered me until now.

“Well, we won’t be signing the contract. Get the fuck out,” Rafael booms, and I want to pull my gun out to shut him up, but I try to steel my expression to remain impassive at his outburst.

Rocco glances down at his watch, then grins in Oscar’s direction. “You have seventeen minutes left too, so you’ll be early to your next meeting.” Even I want to knock the smug smile off my son’s face.

Bren and Oscar push their chairs back in unison and head toward the door. Bren throws it open while grumbling some shit under his breath, and Oscar turns his head to face me. “Robert is not to be trusted.” The hairs on my neck prickle with awareness at my stepson’s name on his tongue. “His daughter too.” Then he walks through the door, and just like that, every limb on my body comes alive with uncertainty and at knowing I should be putting things in motion to set her free. Instead, I’m more determined than ever to dominate every inch of her. Invade every part of her until she’s dependent on me: heart, body, and mind.

My little pet will be mine, and she will do exactly what her daddy commands.

Chapter Fourteen

Gracie

My day went by unbelievably slow despite being kept busy. After showering and dressing, I collected Bonnie from Hazel, then asked if it was okay to make her some breakfast, to which Hazel agreed. She even showed me where everything was and told me we can eat anything we want from the kitchen and pantry, and if they didn’t have what we like, she would order it. I couldn’t believe her words.

After feeding Bonnie, I bathed her and dressed her in the cute pink romper my father allowed me to purchase before coming to stay here. It looks far better on her than the dingy-looking two-piece she would usually wear at his house.

After washing our clothes from the previous day and hanging them on the chairs outside, I took Bonnie into the gardens. Vinny wasn’t exaggerating when he said it was like a park out here. There’s even a children’s playarea—I can only assume is for his grandchildren—coupled with the most luxurious swimming pool I’ve only ever seen on a television show, and I was in awe.

We roamed the lavish grounds, me with bare feet and Bonnie switched between crawling and being carried.

The grass is thick and green, well-watered. The flowers and shrubs are manicured, and the trees are pruned; everything is so perfect. There isn’t a weed in sight, there are no old oak trees, patchy grasslands, nor fields that roam for miles. Instead, there’s a wall around the perimeter with cameras, and even security guards with machine guns.

As much as I love the feeling of freedom, it still very much feels like I’m confined. And I hate it.

This is not what I want for my little girl. Still, I push the thought aside and tell myself this is so much better than being at my father’s. At least here we have the means to wander at will, giving Bonnie the opportunity to thrive and develop. Here gives a sense of freedom despite there being none.

Beneath all the excitement at everything Bonnie and I discovered, I anxiously awaited Vinny’s return. My eyes would dart toward the door at each sound, and when we were outside, I kept the entrances to the property in sight so I would see him at first opportunity.

Was he missing me as much as I missed him?

This is ridiculous, right? I shake my head for the hundredth time today, mentally chastising myself for being so dependent on a man I’ve no business depending on. My stomach rolls at the thought of not seeing him. It’s been less than twelve hours, and I already feel needy. Icontinue to tell myself I shouldn’t send him another text, not after he didn’t reply to the last one.

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