There was no way Lizzy had ever sucked a cock before. Her mouth was warm and wet, which was usually enough, but she didn’t even know how to swallow my length. She figured it out, but I could feel the inexperience the second her lips wrapped around my girth. Not only that—but my dirty slut? My filthy little whore? She was a fucking virgin. When I pushed my finger into her tight little cunt, I felt a hymen—a fucking hymen. What kind of girl would still have a cherry at her age? Not the kind that promised to be a good little girl for men old enough to be their Daddy, that’s for damn sure. The men she led on—they had no idea that it was all a facade, one that went even deeper than I realized.

She’s going to get that cherry popped tomorrow and I sure as fuck won’t be gentle about it. She should have just given her pretty little pussy to someone else—because now it’s going to be claimed by me and her first time will be a night to remember—but one she will probably want to forget. Unless she likes it. I guess I’ll find out.

I made it back to the chair in front of the screen with a drink in my hand by the time she worked up the courage to actually start rubbing her pussy. She was so turned on that it didn’t take her long to come and watching her made my dick hard again. I wanted her body right then—almost bad enough to take it—but the psychology was as important as the moment. She needed to sit alone in the darkness and thinking about it. I didn’t know if she would dread it or crave it after feeling how wet she got from being punished and throat-fucked. It didn’t really matter—as long as it was the only thing on her mind until it happened.

Maybe I can get Mauro to come stay with her again tomorrow—give her a little glimpse of kindness before the beast takes her innocence.

When I realized what Mauro had done—that he had caved in to her needs without extracting something in return, I was a little upset. I had trained her to accept the arrangement—and I was going to make her start trading her body for everything she needed the next time she felt hunger gnawing at her soul. But Mauro’s decision left me with a new opportunity—a whole stack of them. All of the things she had promised—all of her sins. She was going to have to make good on every promise in order to cleanse her soul—but she didn’t know the real truth. The real truth was coming. Once she thought that she had been totally broken and gained redemption, then she was going to find out that no amount of penance could pay for the ultimate sin—the one that put Wyatt in a coffin.

I don’t know what I’ll do when that time comes, but what she endures will be nothing compared to the vengeance I extract for sending my brother into an early grave.

She had answers—answers that I was going to get from her when she finally learned the truth. There were missing chunks in the chat logs—obviously things Wyatt said to her when they decided to Skype instead of spilling dirty fantasies into the chat box. Reading them made me sick. I saw her game—how she manipulated him. I learned more about my brother from those logs than I knew while he was alive. I never knew his marriage to Katie was so tumultuous. I never knew they were having problems. I never knew that he really didn’t like running the Chicago branch of Jackson Investments. He told those secrets to a stranger—secrets he couldn’t even tell his own fucking family.

She let him say everything—then she snared him in her fucking web.

Wyatt resisted her advances at first. It didn’t look like he was necessarily looking for sexual relief, even if he was finding comfort from talking to a beautiful, eighteen-year-old girl. Obviously, those thoughts had to be in the back of his mind—he just took after our mother too much. He didn’t act on his impulses like I did—and like Mauro did to some degree. Our mother’s influence could be seen in Wyatt and she shaped Mauro’s youth—until I came along—I took her life when I came out of the womb, a beast from the second I saw daylight. Wyatt had sixteen years with her before that—he was practically a man when I was born.

A weak man, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about him—nor will I find peace until vengeance has been served.

“What the fuck is this shit?” I grabbed a paper out of Abigail’s hand as she tried to walk it towards Mauro’s office.

“That’s—for Mr. Jackson. The other Mr. Jackson.” She tried to take it out of my hand, but I turned away, so I could read it.

“Is this a proposal?” I flipped through the documents. “From Josef Weber?”

“Please, this is not something you have to trouble yourself with. Your brother told him that we weren’t interested, but he sent the proposal anyway.” She whimpered and extended her hand.

“You get offers to buy the company and just calmly take them to Mauro?” I turned and lifted my head with a scowl on my face.

“We get them—all companies do.” She finally relented and dropped her hands when she realized that I wasn’t going to hand her the paperwork.

“I want to see them all.” I threw the paperwork at her. “Everyone that you’ve gotten this year—my desk—twenty minutes.”

“Sir…” Her eyes grew wide.

“Do you want me to fire you?” I tilted my head to the side.

“No sir.” She shook her head quickly and scurried towards her desk.

I might actually see a look of anger on Mauro’s face if I fired his favorite assistant, but I didn’t give a fuck. I had been on my leave of absence for so long that people seemed to have forgotten that I was not the kind of man that liked to be challenged. I was going to have to swing my dick around a few times and make sure everyone saw that it was the biggest one in the room if that didn’t change fast. I went to my office and waited—at minute nineteen, Abigail came into my office with her heels clacking—so fast that she almost fell as she put the documents down on my desk. I dismissed her with a wave of my hand and started flipping through them. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I knew something wasn’t right—our company wasn’t on the market. We weren’t entertaining offers—and we were far too successful for a bunch of assholes to think they could just buy us out.

Too bad Dad didn’t have time to teach me most of this shit before he kicked the fucking bucket—I guess I wasn’t exactly interested in learning—that probably had a lot to do with it.

Mauro was our father’s favorite pupil. He was born with a mind for the business. That was why he was the CEO of the company instead of Wyatt. Wyatt stressed out about things too much. The Chicago branch was much better for him since it was slower and didn’t have as much pressure as the booming center of operations in New York City. Wyatt didn’t seem to care—I don’t think he would have cared if we just gave him a desk in the basement as long as he had enough money to support his family—hell, he probably would have preferred it. As for me? I was happy as long as the company was doing well.

Truthfully, I didn’t do enough to warrant the position I had. If I was a regular officer of the company with a seat on the board, they would have voted me out the front door a long time ago—especially after Lizzy became my fucking obsession and I stopped coming to work. But Mauro was right—and the proposals confirmed it. The sharks were circling. They were nibbling—even if they couldn’t bite. That was bad for business. It gave the illusion that we were in trouble, an illusion that would make investors pause before they did business with us. I flipped through a few of the proposals and then leaned over to slam my finger into the intercom.

“Abigail—I want all of the new business accounts and all of the lost accounts. Everything from the past year.” I leaned back in my chair and kept thumbing through the proposals while Abigail tried to tell me why that would take too long.

It took Abigail a little while to get everything together, but I was no longer under a timetable—I needed to figure something out. There was something gnawing at me—a concern that was starting to grow. As soon as Abigail dropped off the account information, I told her that I wanted the exact same thing—proposals and accounts—for the last five years. The look on her face said that I might as well have asked her to launch herself into space, but she managed to stifle her obvious displeasure. I looked through the new accounts and lost accounts while she compiled the rest of the data. My concern got stronger as I flipped through the pages—and it was becoming more than a concern—it was becoming a sickness in my gut.

“Okay, Mr. Jackson. Here they are.” She ran into my office and handed me what I asked for.

“What’s wrong with this picture.” I pointed at my desk.

“I’m—sorry?” She tilted her head to the side.

“Explain to me why we’ve got more purchasing proposals and lost accounts in the last year than we have had in the last five—and then explain why we haven’t gotten nearly as many new accounts as any of those years.” I leaned back and glared at her.

“Sir, I—don’t know. I just make coffee, answer the phone, and make sure everything goes to Mr. Jackson—your brother.” She shrugged.

“Get out of my office,” I growled under my breath and started looking through the documents in front of me again.

Something was definitely wrong. Mauro must have known—he had to. He was the CEO. I might not be the man to shake hands or sit down with clients, but people like Josef Weber? I definitely knew how to deal with them. They needed a show of strength—the kind that I was good at. That was why Mauro was eager to get me back behind my desk because I had the internal fortitude to do things he wouldn’t—like take a girl that had wronged our family and lock her in a cage—punish her—steal her innocence.

I’ll break every one of these mother fuckers if I have to. That’s one lesson from my father that I sat up straight for when his wrath didn’t stay bottled.