Page 21 of The Cruel Heir
Not because I trusted him.
But because I knew what staying would mean.
I was a liability.
And they had no use for broken things, especially not the kind that spoke.
The quartet played on. The crystal clinked. Madeline laughed too loudly. And John adjusted his cufflinks, like nothing had happened.
Like I’d never been there at all.
STERLING
The woman I had been obsessing over, watching, waiting for, planning around, was now my stepsister.
Fuck.
The board was going to have a field day with this.
Did that stop me from wanting to paint her pussy walls with my cum?
Hell no.
It only made me hungrier.
I wanted to recreate our first time all over again, force her back into that moment when she was trapped with me, helpless, and begging. I needed her to understand there was no escaping me. That no matter how far she ran, no matter how hard she fought, she belonged to me.
She always had.
It didn’t happen overnight. The first few days after the wedding, she disappeared, ghosted everyone, including her job. But I was patient. I pulled strings. Had her fired. Had her landlord file a fake notice. Let the chaos do what I couldn’t. Make her desperate. And when she finally called Tara, beggingfor a favor, I offered her the only place that would still open a door. My suite.
When she arrived at my suite, she didn’t even look around. Good. Let her be afraid. Let her feel how fast her world had shrunk. Every exit in her life had been sealed. Every lifeline cut. All roads led to me.
Her father and my mother’s marriage was a necessary evil. Positioning Zara within my grasp wasn’t coincidence. It was a strategy.
Kingsley Consortium was more than a front. It funneled my unclean money into clean accounts. It kept my empire liquid, and my men loyal. No money, no loyalty. No loyalty, no power.
So I’d play the role.
The board wouldn’t accept an open claim on her. Too old-school. Too full of crusty men, still jerking off to rules they wrote in 1975. A taboo relationship like this would fracture the empire I was destined to rule.
And I wasn’t about to let that happen.
Her father had already pimped her out to Chadwick, trying to recoup some of the money he lost in bad business deals with the upper elite at the club. That arrangement died when I got involved, but the damage lingered. They looked down on him, the club members. He owed dues, broke business promises, and threw away his money, just trying to fit in.
Now, he was trying to use my Zara. John Johnston never wanted a daughter. He wanted leverage. And now, she was mine to use.
Behind closed doors? That was different.
She stumbled back from me, eyes wide, searching for a way out. There was none.
“Zara,” I growled, stalking her until she fell onto the bed. “You’re mine now, hummingbird.”
She didn’t know I’d been calling her that for years.
It started freshman year. Clear View Preparatory School. She was tucked in the back of orchestra rehearsal, violin trembling in her hands, like it was keeping her alive.
Nobody looked at her.
