I’ve got a scene planned, but as soon as I pull up to the club, there’s a cab leaving. Then I realize my brother and sister may have just arrived. Early, no less.

“You’re about to meet the family, Kitten,” I utter, exiting the car. When I round the front, I find Peyton has already gotten out. “In future, I open your door. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir,” she pipes up, saccharine sweet words that turn my blood to boil with desire. I can’t walk in there with a hard-on. “You do realize I’ve been able to open car doors for a long while now.” Her quip causes me to turn.

Regarding her through a narrowed gaze, I shake my head. My palm is itching to spank that sass from her pert ass, but I’ll have to reign it in for later. “In the past, you weren’t mine. Right now, you are, and I will care for you the way I want to. If you don’t like it, you’ll have to get over it,” I inform her while grabbing the bags from the trunk.

We silently make our way toward the entrance. Confidence rolls off her in waves, and I find myself in awe of her. She’s slight, a tiny pixie beside me. Her body has enough curve to be beautiful while arched, bound, and pleasured, and that’s my plan. Tonight, I’ll take her into my black room and bind her with the silk rope Mason brought in from Europe. I want to see how much she can take before she finally shatters from a non-sexual orgasm.

Unlocking the door, I allow her to enter first as I follow. Once it clicks shut behind us, I stalk behind her into the main area of the club to find Mason and my brother, Callan, and Cayleigh, my little sister, who’s no longer little sitting at the bar.

“Brother,” she squeals, bounding from the stool and into my arms. I didn’t realize how much I missed my family until I find them right here. Her body is hugged by a black tank top and tight jeans that cause my anger to flare like a beacon in the dark.

“What the fuck are you wearing, Leigh?” I hiss in her ear.

“I’m twenty-seven. You can’t tell me what to wear, Rick,” she admonishes me as if I’m the one who’s in trouble. I don’t need my little sister dressing like this, especially when she’s in this club. The men here will use her up, and that’s something I will not stand for.

“Like fuck I can't, Leigh,” I bite out when a hand tentatively touches my shoulder. My eyes fall to Peyton who’s looking at me like I’m wrong. “She’s my little sister,” I inform her.

“She’s old enough to know what she wants, Rick.” The soft voice of Peyton calms me, but I still feel the anger surging through me.

“Hi, I’m Leigh.” My sister holds out her hand to my . . . girlfriend? Submissive? Fuck, how do I introduce her.

“I’m Peyton. Your brother is showing me the ropes,” she says, causing Mason to chuckle in the background. Callan rises, stalks toward Peyton, and pulls her hand up to his mouth.

“I’m the handsome brother.” He winks salaciously, and I find myself wanting to punch him for touching her. She’s not mine. She’s not wearing my collar. Merely a student. But even as I think it, I know I’m lying to myself.

“Okay you two.” I shove my way through, shaking hands with Cal on the way toward the bar. “Where’s D?” I ask Mason.

“He’s headed out to grab the delivery. I figured I’d keep the O’Leary clan company until you two returned.” My best friend winks, downing his shot of whiskey before saluting a goodbye to us all.

He’s not one for crowds. He enjoys playing with Savvie and another girl, but if he’s not on stage, he’s a loner. Perhaps that’s why we always got along so well. The man is a solid foundation to my fucked-up existence at times. There’s something about him though, something he hides. It’s nothing to do with the business, but I know emotionally he’s closed himself off to marriage, and it intrigues me.

I’ve always been curious about people. Spending my time perceiving what I think others keep to themselves, I think that’s what made me so good at what I did. When I needed to infiltrate a group to retrieve information for Dad, I could do it without being noticed. I knew people. Read them.

With Peyton, I can’t fucking get into her mind.

“So, Rick,” Leigh says, dragging me from my memories. “Dad said to give you a hug from him. He’s been busy with . . .” her words taper off as we all three glance at Peyton. She doesn’t know who I really am, which makes me nervous. I should tell her. It’s not fair that I’m lying to her when I want honesty from her.

“I’ll take the shopping up to the apartment,” she says, clearly feeling uncomfortable. She grabs the bags and heads to the stairs, but I can’t let her leave like that. Rushing after her, I place a hand on her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“I’m sorry. I just . . . I thought I had time to tell you more about me before they arrived,” I tell her, imploring her with my gaze. It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth.

“It’s okay, Carrick. No personal details, remember?” she says with a smile, but it’s fake, plastered on to keep me calm. She tugs free of my hold, and I watch her ascend the stairs. I can’t stop her, can’t admonish her. It’s my rule. Stupidly, I thought I could be the one who’s aloof, but Peyton seems to have it down to a T.

“I’m sorry, Rick,” Leigh tells me when I turn back to the bar. Her big eyes are a deep hazel, shimmering with flecks of gold. “I didn’t realize she didn’t know, but then I—”

“It’s fine. She’s . . . I just haven’t told her.”

“Who is she, brother?” Callan questions, gulping his whiskey. His eyes are darker than both mine and Leigh’s. They’re a coffee color, and they seem to pierce me in that moment, digging into my mind to find out why there’s a woman who looks so much like Aurora in my apartment and club.

“I’m training her.”

“How exciting!” My sister bounces excitedly, but I don’t hold the same enthusiasm. I can’t. How can I when all I want is to feel something other than affection for Peyton? I wasn’t meant to care for her, but I find myself wanting her more than I ever thought possible.

“Calm down, Leigh,” I tell her, hoping she’ll not get attached to Peyton the way she did with Rory. There was a sweetness in the relationship, sisters in arms. Each moment they spent together was just more time that my sister cried over. I don’t need to see her agony again.

“Maybe she’ll get that stick out from your ass.” Callan chuckles, earning him a swat from our sister. “What? It’s true. He needs to lighten the fuck up.” One thing about my brother, he always says what’s on his mind. There’s never a time you’ll wonder what he thinks of you.

“Are you two staying upstairs?” I question, glancing between them. When we’re all three together, there’s a camaraderie that warms my soul. I know I couldn’t have survived losing the woman I love without them there. The support and affection they offered got me through the darkness that seemed to envelop me.

“Yeah. If you don’t mind, of course. Now that you have a little toy to play with.” Callan snorts. My gaze lands on him, pinning him with an angry glare. “What? I’m just joking. When does this place open? I need to find myself someone delicious to devour.” His words incite worry in my mind. I know my brother isn’t a Dominant as such, but he does love toys, and he enjoys women submitting, allowing him to do anything he wants to them.

“In an hour. Let’s get you settled, and perhaps after, you can come down and watch Mason and Savvie’s show,” I offer, grabbing my sister’s suitcase. Allowing them to follow me up the stairs, I take them through the hallway and into the elevator that takes us to the landing with two doors beckoning. One mine, one Mason’s. However, there’s a third floor I reserve for guests. We take the short flight of stairs to the apartment that we normally house any guests in.

It’s beautifully furnished, but I never had an inkling to make it mine. Mason has always preferred the penthouse as well, even though this one has its own floor. However, most nights he spends at Savvie’s place. I’ve always wondered how long he’ll wait to propose or finally collar her. It’s been years, but for some reason, the man is just enjoying what he has now.

“Wow, this place is amazing,” Leigh murmurs behind me as I lead them into the wide-open space.

Modern furnishings greet us. With dark tiles and white walls, the area looks like it’s straight from a magazine. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” I inform them. “There’s food in the fridge, four bedrooms, living room, kitchen, and each bedroom has an en suite.”

“Thank you, big brother.” Leigh swings her arms around my neck, holding me close until my eyes mist. I never cry. I didn’t even cry when Rory was killed, but right now, having my little sister hang on me as if I’m her world, I allow the emotion to travel through me. Just for now.

“Thanks, Rick,” Cal utters, patting me on the back. “I’ll head to the shower. See you later,” he says. My brows furrow in confusion. He’s always been aloof, but he’s even more so now than normal.

“Is he okay?” I question my sister, who nods. “He seems . . .”

“He’s just feeling angry that he has to be here instead of London with the woman he’s been shagging,” she says, her British accent heavy on the final word. So, Callan’s been fucking someone. My brother has always been a playboy, never caught up in one person, so this is news to me.

“And he’s all caught up over one woman?” She shrugs in response. “Listen, I want you both to enjoy your time here. Hell, stay if you want to. But, I need to go and talk to Peyton.” I pull Cayleigh into my arms, enveloping her in a hug so tight she’s mumbling about losing all ability to breathe.

“I’ve missed you, Rick. It’s not the same without you. Even Dad isn’t the same without you.” I nod, swallowing the emotional lump in my throat.

“I’ll see you later, Leigh. Tell Cal to get that stick out from up his ass and join us downstairs in an hour.” She giggles as I make my way out of the apartment and down to my own. Upon entering, I find a blonde beauty moving around the kitchen as if she owns it.

“Oh,” Peyton squeals when I step into the space, startling her. “I thought you were spending the evening with your family, so I made some ravioli, but it’s only one portion,” she tells me, gesturing to the stove where two pots are boiling. Something in them smells delicious.

“We need to talk.” My ominous words have her pretty brows scrunching in confusion. “It’s about my family.” Peyton nods, settling on the chair opposite me. The soft simmer of the water and sauce cooking behind us calms me, but what I’m about to tell Peyton is going to leave me raw.

I never thought I’d need to do this. To confess, admit who I really am. It’s been so long since I’ve even accepted it, made mention of it. Everything feels foreign. As if I’m out of my depth.

“Look, Carrick, you really don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” she says, sensing my fear in admitting it, in finally offering more of myself than I wanted to. “I understand you said no personal details, and this certainly seems personal.”

I nod. “It is, but . . .” My words taper off into silence. Into the nothing that exists between us. That’s where my problem lies. All the women I’ve been with before having been just that--nothing. They’ve meant nothing to me, until Peyton. And I can’t explain why, but I want her to understand who I am. What I was. My name isn’t just Carrick Anderson. She needs to know where my roots lie.