Page 37 of Brutal Reign
“There she is.” He closes the door behind him, and I notice he’s a bit off-balance. “My beautiful bride-to-be, hiding in her tower.”
“I’m not hiding. I’m tired.” I’m still wearing the dress from tonight, just unzipped in the back. “Tonight went late.”
He moves closer, carrying a glass of whisky in each hand. “Have a drink with me.” He gestures toward the small seating area by my window. “We have something to celebrate.”
“Whatever this is about, can it wait until morning?” I cross my arms, making it clear I don’t want company.
“No. I’ve waited long enough for you, don’t you think?” There’s no missing the suggestion behind his words.
Sensing that whatever this is isn’t worth an argument, I reluctantly take the glass he offers, settling into a chair and putting as much distance between us as I can.
“What are we celebrating?” I ask warily.
Simon’s smile is triumphant. “The Syndicate is about to learn what happens when you fuck with the wrong family. We’re finally going to make them pay.”
Dread spreads through my chest. Retaliating against the Syndicate was always his plan, but what he’s talking about now means going to war, and war means instability, retaliation, and danger. The kind of danger I desperately want to keep Kin away from.
I set my glass down untouched. “I’ve told you before, I don’t want to know about any of this. I want nothing to do with triad business.”
“Too fucking bad.” His voice hardens, the alcohol making him cruder than usual. “You think you get to pick and choose what affects you? You’re marrying into this, Hope, so start acting like your father’s daughter.”
Simon swirls the amber liquid in his glass, savoring the moment. “We’ve taken something valuable from the Russians. Very valuable. And if they want it back, they’ll have no choice but to give me what I want.”
Despite myself, I can’t help but ask, “What did you take?”
“It’s not what, but who.”
My blood goes cold. “Jesus, Simon. You kidnapped someone?”
“I secured leverage,” he corrects, pleased with himself.
It has to be someone important to the Syndicate if he thinks they’ll give him what he wants for their release.
“But our wedding…” I say, grasping for any way to delay until Kin and I are long gone. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to wait until after?—”
He cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “Wait for what? With the leverage I have now, the Syndicate will be forced to hand over everything—territory, money, whatever I demand. By the time we’re married, I will own the Syndicate.”
That seems ambitious, even for Simon. He’s spent years rebuilding the Black Company piece by piece, recruiting my father’s old allies and finding hungry new blood, carving out new territory. He thinks he’s invincible, but no one is.
“Don’t underestimate the Syndicate. My father did, and it got him killed.”
Simon sneers, and he sets down his glass and starts moving toward me. I shoot to my feet, every nerve firing danger signals.
“I never asked for your opinion, did I?” My pulse spikes, and a warning hum thrums beneath my skin as I back up instinctively, trying to maintain distance. “How about you make yourself useful. Shut your mouth, spread your legs and give me the heirs I want.”
My heart races.
“Don’t you want our first time to be on our wedding night? It would be so much more… special,” I plead, grasping for any reason to put this off.
“I don’t give a shit about it being special.” He follows me step for step, effectively herding me toward the mattress. “I’ve waited five fucking years while you played the untouchable princess. While you acted like you were too good for your father’s right hand.”
The backs of my legs hit the bed, and panic flares in my chest as he pushes me down onto it.
“Don’t touch me.” Bile rises in my throat. I try to twist away, but his grip tightens on my wrists.
He forces my legs apart, my dress flaring around my hips, and settles between them. “You live in my house, wear the clothes I bought for you and your brat, eat the food I pay for. Everything you have is because of me. And it’s time I collected on your debt.”
His hand slides up my thigh, and I freeze, paralyzed between fight and flight.
