Where is she? I waited out in front of the house in a black sports car. I was too on edge to even bother with my usual driver. I needed control any way I could get it.

Going to the Acquisition Ball was something I had never done before. All the preparation in the world likely wouldn’t ready me for what was about to happen. I would get through it. Making sure Stella performed—that she stood out—was my main goal. I gripped the steering wheel, trying to decide if I needed to go inside and drag her out, when the front door opened.

Renee stepped out first, and then I saw her. The late afternoon sun blinked off the jewels at her throat, barely visible above the dark cloak tied at her neck. Her dress was the signature Vinemont green, and Enid had outdone herself on the skirt. The black peacock feathers would turn more than a few heads. I only hoped one of them belonged to the Sovereign.

If that weren’t enough, Stella’s face was radiant. Even as she crossed the threshold, uncertainty painting her features, she made something inside me click into a higher gear. Her bright green gaze tried to ensnare me, tried to make me feel something. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.

Still, I wanted to see her—all of her. Damn that cloak. I imagined ripping it all off her except the jewels, and my cock thickened in my tuxedo pants. Fuck. Now was neither the time nor the place.

It was going to take everything I had to get through this night. It was going to take even more out of Stella. Once it was all over, she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me. She probably already felt that way after what had happened in the yard yesterday. Tonight would seal the deal. Not that she’d have any choice. She would do as I told her. She cared about her father too damned much not to.

She wore a pair of breakneck high heels. I imagined how long her legs would look, bare and smooth, wearing nothing but her stilettos. I shifted in my seat. The large Russian walked out the door behind her and helped her down the front steps. He smiled easily as she spoke to him. I wanted to destroy him for even thinking of talking to what was mine, to take him down and show her I could do it. I could hurt, kill. I could do even worse.

She took the last few steps to my car, and the Russian bastard had the nerve to open the door for her. She maneuvered into the tight space, tucking her dress in and almost falling into the seat.

“Easy krasivaya,” he said.

A muscle ticked in my jaw as he called her beautiful. She was my pet. If anyone were to give her a special name in Russian or any other fucking language, it would be me.

“I see you when you return.” He closed the door and moved away from the car.

No, you won’t. I put the car in reverse and backed away from the house. Lucius stood in one of the downstairs windows and watched us leave. Actually, he didn’t watch us, his gaze was fixed on Stella.

“He creeps me out.” Her eyes were trained on the same window.

“Don’t talk about my brother like that.” He was blood. She was an Acquisition. Even if I wanted to beat the desirous look out of his eyes until all I saw was gore, some bonds were unbreakable.

“Fine.” She sank bank in the seat as far as she could and stared out the window. I glanced at her, taking in her stunning profile. Creamy, smooth skin, delicate nose, sumptuous pout… Her lips were painted a blood red, the perfect complement to the emeralds at her throat.

I wore classic black tie. I didn’t need to stand out. I was nothing more than background noise. Stella was the attraction, the star.

We fell into an uncomfortable silence as I cycled the gears, sped through the estate, and maneuvered out onto the road. The ball was held at the Oakman estate, and had been for as long as anyone cared to remember. This year’s affair promised to be even more extravagant than previous years, given that Cal Oakman was the current Sovereign.

The bastard was revered throughout our community. His winning Acquisition ten years ago had cemented him at the top of Louisiana society. I hadn’t attended that ball, despite the engraved platinum invitation. Now I wished I had. At least I would know more of what to expect. Hopefully my mother’s recollections of her Acquisition Ball twenty years ago would still hold true. They should. Tradition and ritual were the bedrock principles beneath the entire system.

“What’s going to happen?”

I ignored her question. If I described what I expected to go on at the ball, she might put up enough fight to be a problem. I needed her just as she was, a perfectly tantalizing morsel, wide-eyed and beautiful. I needed her eventual downfall to be spectacular. I needed to win.

Twilight fell as we sped along country roads, past vast estates hidden behind walls of trees and dark bayous.

“I won’t run.” Her voice was quiet, but resolute.

“What?” I downshifted as we came closer to the Oakman gate.

“If you tell me what’s going to happen, I won’t run. I know there’s nowhere to go and you’ll hurt my father if I do. So, just tell me.”

I pulled the car over so quickly she yelped. The freshly fallen leaves crunched under the tires as we skidded to a halt.

“You want to know what the most powerful people in the South, maybe the entire fucking country, are going to do to you tonight?”

She winced and then turned her wide, angry eyes to me. “Yes.”

“Remember how I said I would hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“Tonight, I won’t be the only one inflicting the pain. That’s all you need to know.”

I wanted to be the only one to hurt her, the only one to make her cry or bleed or scream. Instead, Cal fucking Oakman would be sharing the duties, and for an audience. She was mine—not because I cared about her, but because I owned her.

I hit the steering wheel and turned to her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “You just have to get through it. No matter what happens.”

Her breaths came faster and she leaned toward me, her cloak falling to the side and revealing the swells of her breasts. “But you’ll be there? With me?”

She was drawing me toward her somehow until my lips were only a whisper away from hers. She smelled like rosewater and honey, a scent I’d chosen for her for the evening. It was meant to be intoxicating, to draw people in, but it wasn’t supposed to work against me like this. Her eyes closed, her lips in full bloom and ready for a kiss.

Once again, I was letting my family down. She was property. I needed to stop acting like she was anything more than that. But she didn’t make it easy. The day before when she’d lain on her bed and stroked herself, making quiet cries and grinding her hips against her hand, it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to burst into her room and fuck her until she screamed my name. The memory went straight to my dick, making a bad situation even worse.

Her question came back to me. Would I be there with her? Yes. Would she be happy about it? No. Definitely not. Her lips begged for solace I could not and would not give. I pulled away and made a show of wiping my fingers on my handkerchief.

“You must be desperate if you think I offer you any more safety than the strangers you’re about to meet. I don’t.”

She recoiled, stung by my words, by my actions. Good. She needed to hate me. It would make it all easier.

I put the car back into gear and pulled from the shoulder. I was desperate to get out of this enclosed space, away from her eyes, her scent, her lips, her breath.

As I wished for an escape, the wide gates of the Oakman estate loomed ahead of us. Several cars passed through after their occupants showed the guards the distinctive engraved invitation—this year’s was solid gold. I hefted the plate from my inner coat pocket and flashed it before I was waved through to the tree-lined lane. The Oakman home rose from the landscape, a French chateau built in the style of Versailles. Stella took a deep, steadying breath beside me. Nervousness? Excitement? Dread? Any one of those, or all at once, maybe.

I mimicked her quietly, trying to calm my nerves right along with hers. So much was riding on this. On her. She would either save the Vinemonts or break us. Tonight was her first step toward either destiny.