Ruin & Rule

The transaction would mean I would float away like a blue-blooded princess aboard this magnificent yacht to face a future of unknown sadism and slavery. While the man I wanted sold me with no hint of a soul.

“No. Full stock or nothing—” Kill’s voice shredded my fragile serenity.

“Stop. I’m done arguing. I have questions before I agree to anything. Do not rush me.” Mr. Steel snapped his fingers. Silence fell while a steward appeared from nowhere, poured a finger of amber liquid into a goblet, and passed it to him. He faded from the room via a door hidden like a bookcase.

“Now, questions…” Mr. Steel’s eyes flashed as he took a sip of his new beverage.

Kill’s nostrils flared, drawing energy from the room just like he had back at the compound. “What do you want to know?” Grabbing my elbow, he jerked me close. We both shuddered as a crackle of electricity thrummed between us. I hated that he affected me. It wasn’t just him who wanted to be far away. It hurt too damn much.

Breathing hard, Kill shook me for no other reason but annoyance at still wanting me. “Tell me what you want to know. That she’s unique? Intelligent? Qualified in veterinary science? Or perhaps you want to know what she’s like in bed? That she writhes more perfectly than any woman I’ve ever met? That she tastes like fucking buttercup sunshine? That despite everything that’s happened to her, she’s still the strongest, stubbornest thing that refuses to be broken?”

Every sentence twisted the dagger in my heart until blood rivered inside. He used it. My nickname.

Buttercup.

I wanted to slap him more than I’d wanted anything.

Bastard!

“She’s one of a kind, Mr. Steel and if you don’t see that, then you’re a fucking idiot.” His chest rose and fell, his eyes bright and glassy.

If I’m so perfect, why don’t you keep me, then, you stupid wanker?

My heart twisted into a painful knot. “Fuck you, Arthur,” I whispered hotly. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!”

Kill took a step back, eyes wide.

I turned on him, ready to attack. My nails wanted to draw his blood. I wanted to make him hurt as much as I did.

But Mr. Steel’s arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me backward. I cried out as his cold reptilian fingers kissed over my scarred hipbone.

I’d forgotten all I wore was a bikini. I’d forgotten everything but wanting to savage Arthur Killian.

“You’re feisty.” His voice threaded down my ear and into my brain. “You’re passionate—I like that. Passion is good and strength is even better.”

I shivered, wriggling in his grip. “Let me go.”

Instead of obeying, he spun me around in his hands, imprisoning me between his spread thighs. I curled my nose at being so close to this monster. “Let me go!”

He smiled, crinkling the tanned skin by his eyes. His teeth were slightly crooked, his jawline strong and spoke of a man used to getting his own way. “You don’t tell me what to do. Ever.” His nose brushed against mine in a horribly tender move. “Tell me, girl. What happened to your body?”

Kill faded into the background as I fought the urge to vomit all over Mr. Steel’s white suit. The pads of his thumbs traced circles around scarred flesh and inked.

When I didn’t reply, he murmured, “You’re like yin and yang. Half stunning, half deformed. Tell me. I want to know how you became like this.”

I locked my spine, revolting against his touch but unable to pull away. Kill moved closer. His breathing labored and bulk as terrifying as any punishment. Was he there to make sure I didn’t get away, or fighting the urge to tear me from this asshole’s hands?

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” I hissed. “Let. Me. Go.”

Mr. Steel’s eyes narrowed. “I see discipline will be in order.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “That’s perfectly fine. I enjoy a bit of punishment to get my point across.”

“You’ll never touch me.”

His fingers tightened, proving that in actual fact he already was. He cocked an eyebrow, daring me to deny it.

“Fuck you.” It seemed I liked that phrase currently.

Mr. Steel stiffened, then… he laughed. “I love your temper. It will make things extremely interesting.”

“It’s not a temper—just disgust. Stop touching me.”

Amazingly, Mr. Steel obeyed. His voice was well-smoothed silk as he said, “I did as you asked. Now you give me what I asked. Tell me what happened.”

I breathed hard. “No. The story is private.”

Even I don’t know the full tale. And every damn day I dived into the cesspool that’d become my memories only to drown in them. In fact, I wanted all my memories deleted. Every single encounter and kiss and Libra eraser recall, I wanted it all gone so I never had to see Kill’s traitorous face again.

Mr. Steel smiled coldly. “Privacy is a thing of the past. You need to understand that—otherwise your new life will be immensely uncomfortable.”

Kill stepped forward, his presence burning my back. Wherever he moved, his body called to mine. My flesh to his. Magnets. Worse than magnets—kismet alignment.

Yet he doesn’t feel it.

Or chooses the life of misery by ignoring it.

Bastard. Asshole. Weak!

Did he not feel what happened when he hugged me in the car? I couldn’t describe it. The way he held me hadn’t been erotic or sexual. It’d been warm and comforting knowingness.