King of Masters by Brynn Ford
CHAPTER 13
Murphy
“DID YOU GET a report on the two new assets in Amsterdam? When will they be ready for sale?”
Declan sighs. “The training team requested that we transfer one of them to Oslo or Copenhagen.”
“Why?” I look up at him, peering over my laptop. He sits in one of the armchairs on the opposite side of my desk, Fiona in the other beside him, quietly reading a book.
He looks down at his laptop, reading from the screen. “It says, ‘They were captured together—sisters. They find too much strength in each other and need to be separated to be broken.’” He pinches the bridge of his nose.
I know the details are often wearing on him, but more often than not, having him help with the day-to-day operation of our factories is the only time we get to spend together.
“Let’s transfer one of the sisters and two other assets to Copenhagen, then. Numbers are low there right now, so it’ll even things out.”
“How should they select the other two assets?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. Allow the trainers to select—they can usually find the right balance of personalities.”
His fingers move across the keyboard. “Noted.”
“Inform the trainers in Amsterdam that we need the girls ready in eight weeks. I have twelve new buyers lined up this quarter, and I want them to have a varied selection to choose from.”
“Got it.” He continues to type.
It’s quiet for a minute or two as I finish checking through a facility report.
Then Declan quietly notifies me, “It’s seven o’clock.”
I glance down at my gold Rolex to confirm, then quickly send off the report and shut my laptop lid.
“You don’t look as excited as you should be for a man who’s about to bring home his bride.”
“I’ll be ecstatic when this discussion with the family is through.”
“Nothing to worry about. You got full board approval.”
“Minus Vigo and Nikolai’s Head of House votes.”
“Well, it’s not your fault they were so terrible they went and got themselves murdered on the same night.”
Three months ago, I’d successfully petitioned the board to take on a bride early, and I’d secured Renata’s influence to ensure Stella was the bride selected. But earlier this week, the quarterly meeting hosted at the Vittori mansion was fucking chaos. The Russian Head of House, Nikolai, used one slave to help steal back another slave he’d recently sold to the Italian Head of House, Vigo. Vigo was killed before they fled, and Nikolai got caught with a stray bullet and died later that night. It was a goddamn mess.
But since business is business, and it always comes first, the quarterly board meeting went on as scheduled. I was still met with final approval to marry Stella Scott, minus Nikolai’s and Vigo’s verbal votes.
It was helpful that I had written correspondence with each of them prior to that meeting where they sent their premature congratulatory remarks after receiving the agenda. That, and Renata’s glowing recommendation was what I needed to cement Stella’s safety with my family—some of whom don’t approve my decision to marry early.
Cordelia is the only member of the board who questioned the selection of Stella beyond the reasonable line of questioning that always comes with these decisions. But even she was ultimately swayed by Renata’s influence.
The decision was made, board approval was given, and I won’t put up with any further bullshit from those in my family who feel less than thrilled about it. That’s the reason I’ve asked my family to gather tonight in the living room. I’ll be bringing Stella home this weekend, and I need to ensure they’ll be on their most welcoming behavior.
I let out an agitated breath and push to my feet. “Let’s get this over with. Fiona,” I alert her, and she closes her book.
She quietly places it on the side table before rising to her feet and following behind me and Declan as we exit my office. I lock the door behind us before heading down the hallway, Bailey and Declan beside me, Fiona behind me.
Fiona’s proving to be a good pet—obedient, calm, and eager to please. She ought to be gracious given the living situation I pulled her from. She’s settled in nicely. She’s blended easily into my care, earning rank with Bailey in no time, who trots along beside me. Fiona and Bailey each have freedom to roam around the grounds as they please, but they heel when I call them to.
I hear the pleasantries of chatter as we approach from the hallway, but it fades to silence as I enter the living room.
“Get me a drink,” I tell Fiona, and she darts off toward the bar cart to get my usual.
The family is gathered in the sunken living room, their expectant eyes on me, waiting for me to speak. I step down and lower to sit on my chair near the fireplace. It faces outward toward the family so I can see everyone from where I’m perched.
Fiona hands me my drink and kneels beside my chair. On reflex, I reach out to stroke her hair in recognition, just as I would with Bailey.
“I’ve asked you all here tonight to discuss your expectations for Stella’s arrival this weekend. As you already know, she’s not bred from the world of criminal activity, and she knows nothing of our business and what we do. When I bring her home, she will only just have learned, and I expect it will be a shock to her. I expect she’ll be angry. I’ll expect her to fight, perhaps even attempt to escape. The security team has been briefed and extra precautions will be put in place for a number of months.”
“We wouldn’t need security measures if you’d allowed your bride to be selected the traditional way,” Cordelia says.
“And that’s the kind of bullshit I’m not going to tolerate.” I take a slow sip, lean back, and cross an ankle over my knee. “You had your time to speak, and your vote was counted. I received board approval and that’s the end of the argument. Stella Scott will be my wife, and there’s no need for your attitude about it. If you’re too displeased to play nice, Delia, then you’re welcome to leave my good graces. You’re welcome to choose to live on your own without benefitting from the family wealth.”
I cock an eyebrow at her and her jaw tenses, but she doesn’t open her mouth to speak again.
“As I was saying, this is going to be a shock for her and I can tell you, she’s not going to concede to our way of life easily. She’s a fighter, and I expect a fight from her.”
“Tell us what you expect from us, my love,” Bridget says softly. “How can we help with her transition?”
I grant my mother a small smile in appreciation of her grace and acceptance.
“I think the best that everyone can do is go about business as usual. Welcome her with kindness, recognize her place above you, and for the love of God, don’t talk about our trade. It will only upset her and lead to an argument—one I’m certain none of you will win. If she has questions about the business,I will answer them.”
“Walk on eggshells is what I’m hearing,” Cordelia snips.
I snap my head in her direction. “I see you’re overdue for a lesson in hierarchy. Do you understand her place will be above yours, dear cousin?”
She glowers at me, but thankfully, shuts her mouth. “When she arrives on Saturday, I expect you all to be waiting to greet her in the foyer. We’ll do quick introductions and that will be all for the day. She’ll require an adjustment period.” I look to my brother, standing off to the side. “Declan, I’ll need you to look after Fiona while I’m absent retrieving Stella.”
“We can look after her,” Cormac offers, and I sense Fiona shrinking back on her heels.
“Absolutely fucking not. Last time you and Tally had her, she was returned with bruises on her arse so tender she couldn’t sit on it for a week.”
“So?” Tally asks, looking genuinely confused, the fucking dimwit.
“The answer is no. Declan will be responsible for Fiona and no one else will bother her. Understood?”
I’m met with nods and murmurs of agreement.
“So we’re all settled, then. Everyone’s understood?” Thankfully, the room remains silent—no dumb questions. “Great.” I push to my feet, toss back my drink to empty the glass, then hand it to Fiona. “I’m off then. I need to prepare my bedroom to welcome home my bride-to-be.”
“Murphy, wait,” Bridget says, standing and moving in front of me. She places her hands on my shoulders to hold me steady, looking up into my eyes with happiness reflecting in hers. “I’m not thrilled that you’re doing this so early in your tenure, my love. But I am thrilled that you’ve found someone to share it all with. She’ll be welcomed as family.”
Her gentleness makes my cheeks twitch and my lips curl into a smile. I lean in to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”
I pat my leg for Bailey to follow, and Fiona comes right along, too. It makes that twinge of humanity tense in my muscles for a moment to think that she’s trained to behave like my pet. But who am I to fight the fact that she feels comfortable to belong, to know her expectations, and obey them?
That’s where Stella will give me trouble. She’s not comfortable with the status quo. She doesn’t know what it means to belong to someone. She doesn’t follow expectations, and she certainly doesn’t blindly obey. My heart races to think of the challenge she poses. I crave it. I crave her fight. I crave her anger. I crave the contempt she’ll have for everything we stand for.
My soul begs for hers, just as hers begs for a home.
And I’m finally bringing her home.
I raise my fist and knock on Stella’s door. I know she’s home because the surveillance team had eyes on her, but she doesn’t know I’m here. I wanted to surprise her. Both because I think it will be fun to see the look on her face when she sees me and because I need to take her off-guard, get her adrenaline pumping. I want her to make the decision to come with me enthusiastically and impulsively, rather than have my capture team come in and do it by force.
I knock again, anticipation sparking heat that burns beneath my skin. My heart pounds against my ribs as I knock a third time and get no answer. I know she’s in there. I pull my cell phone from my back pocket and call her.
“Hey, baby,” she answers, and I can hear the echo of her voice on the other side of the door.
“Answer the damn door, Stella.”
“Answer the…what?”
“Did you hear me knock?”
“Murphy, are you…You’re not!”
I hear something clang against her hardwood floor, quickly followed by her footsteps padding across it. I end the call and pocket my phone when I hear her disengage the locks from the inside.
The door swings open, and I find her wide-eyed and hopeful as her beautiful brown eyes take me in. She’s wearing gray sweatpants and a white tank top that clings to her curves. Her dark hair is piled on top of her head and she’s wearing her glasses, which means she hasn’t put in her contacts yet today.
She’s fucking stunning.
She’s fucking mine.
I struggle to keep my cool when she squeals and launches herself into me. She throws her arms around my neck and goes straight in for a kiss, pressing her lips to mine with indecent intent.
There’s something about having her in my arms that settles me, something I can’t explain. I pull her tightly into my embrace, lifting her feet from the ground and walking her backward into her apartment. I set her down, untangle one of my arms from around her waist, and reach behind me and shut the door.
“You’re here,” she pants as her eyes flicker across my face.
“I told you I’d see you soon.”
“I didn’t realize it would be this soon.” Her brown eyes zero in on my lips as mine lock on hers, both of us aching from the lust that’s been building for months. When she speaks again, her voice is soft and sultry. “Can you fuck me now and talk to me later?”
I chuckle, sliding my hands to her hips as I step in closer. “A tempting offer, but I have a proposal for you first.”
“A proposal that’s better than fucking?” She shifts, wiggling her hips.
“Not exactly better than fucking. But something that will give us far more time to fuck in much more spectacular places.”
“Okay, you’ve piqued my interest. What’s your proposal?”
“I want you to come on a trip with me.”
“A trip?”
“I want to take you home with me. To Ireland. I want you to meet my family.” Not exactly a lie, she will be meeting my family…she just doesn’t know the circumstances yet.
Her lips part as she gapes at me, her head tilting to the side. “You want me to meet your family?”
I stroke my palm down the side of her head, cupping her cheek. “I want more with you, Stella; more than phone calls and occasional visits. I want to be with you. I want to show you how serious I am about us.” All true.
“I’m…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll come. Let’s pack you a bag and get going.”
“You mean now?”
“I mean now. Right now.”
Her eyes dart back and forth across my face. “I can’t just leave with no notice. I…I run a business. What about the shop?”
“Ask Cora to take care of things.”
She blows out a breath, stepping backward and away from my hold. I drop my arms as she turns, pacing away, and my pulse quickens. “I don’t think I could ask her to do that if she knew I was going with you.”
“Why? Because she hates me?”
“She doesn’t hate you…She just doesn’t know you. She’s concerned about me.” She turns to face me, crossing her arms over her chest.
“That’s a little unfair of her.”
“How so?”
“She pushed for you and me to hook up the night we met. Now she’s back-tracking and trying to talk you out of having a relationship with me.”
“It’s not like that. She just wants me to be safe and happy.”
I cross the space between us, rubbing my palms up and down her arms. “If she really wants that for you, then she’ll be happy that you and I have this opportunity to take things to the next level.”
She sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t know that she’ll be happy about this. I don’t know if I can ask her to run the shop while I’m away. How long would we be gone?”
I don’t want to lie to her, but I can’t tell her the truth, either. Once she leaves with me, she’s never coming back. “Why don’t you just call her? See what she says.”
She blinks up at me with her expressive eyes, reflecting depth and darkness in which I could dwell, a place where I could lose myself. I’m tempted to throw her in her bedroom, strip her, and fuck her before anything else happens, but I know I can’t. I can’t allow her that physical release yet. I need our mutual hunger to ensure she has at least one good reason to leave with me—to satiate her sexual craving. I know she’ll give in and leave with me anyway, but sex is my fail-safe. Otherwise, I’ll have to drug her and call in my capture team to get her on my private jet, and I’d prefer to avoid doing that.
“Sweetheart, please.” I bend, taking her face in my hands, laying my forehead to rest on hers. “I need to take you home with me.”
Fuck.
I can feel the vibration of her heartbeat cutting through the space between our bodies. The way she already loves me is like an electrical field that reaches out from her heart, grips mine, and pulls me closer.
I feel her body slump and sway toward me, her muscles relaxing. She unfolds her arms and lifts her hands to grip my wrists, her thumbs brushing over my skin.
I’ve got her right where I want her.
It makes my stomach twist in knots that resemble guilt.
“Okay. I’ll come with you,” she says softly with a smile. “I want to come with you, of course I do. Just…only for a few days, okay?”
I refuse to agree to that because she’s never coming back here, so I choose to show her gratitude for her concession instead. “Thank you, Stella.”
“You really flew all the way over here just to pick me up and fly me all the way back?”
“I’d travel around the world for you.” That’s not a lie.
She nudges forward, arching her back and curving her body into mine. She plants her lips on mine, and I gradually deepen our kiss. My body sinks at the things she makes me feel, knowing that once I have her home, I’ll get to feel this way with her every day.
When our kiss fades, she sighs, a happy smile lighting her cheeks. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay, let’s do it. Let’s go. Just let me call Cora and rip off that band-aid. She’s not going to be happy with me.”
She’s going to be less happy when she realizes Stella isn’t returning. But there are plans for handling all of that once I have Stella securely in my home and unable to leave.
I take a step back and shove my hands into my pockets, turning to lean my arse against the back of her couch. “So let her be unhappy for a bit. She’ll come around.”
Stella twists her lips, then slowly nods before stepping away. She bends to pick up her cell phone from the floor—it looks like she must have dropped it there when she realized it was me at her door. When she stands, she pauses, looks at me, and smiles.
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it. I’m finally taking you home.”