King of Masters by Brynn Ford

CHAPTER 15

Murphy

“YOU'RE DISGUSTING,” SHE spits.

My heart thuds against my ribs. I hate this. I hate the way she hates me right now, but I knew this would happen. I’d mentally prepared for it. I’d run through this conversation over and over again in my head to get myself ready for this and it still fucking hurts. I stay silent, watching as she scans me from head to toe, judging me, reevaluating her opinion of me.

“I’m so fucking disgusted by you.” Her voice is quieter this time and somehow, that’s worse than her yelling.

I sigh, lifting my head from where it rests on my hand, my elbow on the armrest. “Go on,” I encourage.

The sooner she gets this out of her system, the sooner we can work on building a better relationship from these ashes. As she sees it, I’ve burned down our future. But she’ll understand soon enough that I’ve made a future for us where there wasn’t one.

It had to be this way.

“Go on?” Her head tilts as her eyes narrow, her upper lip scrunched in a snarl of disgust. “Go on? I’ll fucking go on, you sick piece of shit.” She leans forward, and I know she would have launched herself at me on the attack by now if it weren’t for the fact that the plane is in its final descent. Having her buckled in her seat does make this easier for me. “You are the worst kind of creature, preying on women, trafficking them to monsters…monsters like you.”

My jaw ticks. “Let’s be clear on one thing. I’m not a monster. I only feed them.”

“Oh, fuck you! You’re delusional on top of everything else! How can you say you’re not a monster? You sell women…you make them slaves!”

“It’s the family business.”

“It’s fucking disgusting.”

“Depends on your perspective.”

I don’t know why that’s the line that makes her snap, but she snaps spectacularly. As soon as I see her hands move toward her hip to unlatch her belt buckle, I have mine undone, ready to grab her. She has no trouble reaching me since she’s facing the front of the descending aircraft and I have my back to it. Still, she takes me off-guard as she throws a side hook toward my cheek and I barely duck in time to miss the impact.

I grab her swinging fist and twist her arm behind her back, spinning her away from me before her arse falls onto my lap. I grab her other arm and put it in the same position, yanking her backward, holding her against my body as she kicks and squirms.

“Let go of me!”

I bring my face over her shoulder, speaking into her ear through her tangled hair. “Keep it up if you want to be on lockdown when we get home. Keep testing my patience and I’ll cage you in a windowless room where you won’t see sunlight for days.”

She jerks her head toward me and the expression on her face is a kind of fury I’ve never seen on her before. Her rage has twisted her into someone entirely unrecognizable, but she still exists in that anger. It’s this kind of fiery magnetism that drew me to her in the first place and the way she fights makes my heart beat faster. It makes my muscles tense and twitch. It pumps adrenaline through my veins, and it makes me want to dominate her in every possible way.

She fuels me.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that making her mine was the best decision I’ve ever made.

She doesn’t speak and her squirming stills at my threat, but none of the fight is gone. I see it in the way her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths that make her nostrils flare. I shift my grip to hold both her wrists in one of my hands, bringing the other around to stroke down the side of her hair.

“That’s a good girl. There’s no reason we can’t be civilized about this. I want a partnership with you, Stella. If I’d wanted to make you a slave, I would’ve made you a slave months ago.”

Her eyes flicker and widen as she jerks in my hold, the realization of the power I’ve held over her since the night we met finally sparking in her mind. “Make me a slave? Christ, you’re sick. You’re so goddamn sick!”

I chuckle. “Trust me, sweetheart. I’m not sick. You and I just come from different worlds. I’ll show you what sickness looks like, and it doesn’t look a goddamn thing like me.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m doing this for us. There was no other way.”

We don’t speak as the landing gear touches down onto the pavement, bouncing the cabin before settling as it rolls along the earth. Her body falls heavily against mine as the pilot hits the brakes, the speed quickly decelerating and holding us together before it slows to a stop.

I glance out the window beside us and let out a breath, then turn my face toward hers. I nudge her hair away from her neck with my nose and deeply inhale her sweet vanilla scent.

She hates me right now, yes, but I feel overwhelming relief to have her here with me, back home in Ireland where I can protect her from the monsters in the world and keep her safe with me.

She jerks at the touch of my nose along her neck, and I let go of her wrists, allowing her to jump from my lap. She spins around to face me and backs away. I stand as our flight attendant, Shannon, appears in the cabin while the engines whir with the letdown.

“Just a moment, sir, and we’ll have the airstair lowered for you to exit the plane.” She grants me a kind smile as she moves past us, ignoring Stella and her outburst, as she should.

“Thank you, Shannon.”

I smooth my waistcoat and step toward Stella. My movement startles her, and she takes a step back, but there’s nowhere for her to go. She has to pass me to get off the plane. I motion her toward me with my hand. “Come here.”

She shakes her head. “No. No. I’m not getting off this plane. I’m going back to New York.”

“You’re not going back to New York. You’re coming home with me. I’d like to do this the easy way, but if you force my hand, I will drag you out of here kicking and screaming. And I promise you, no one will bat an eye. Not the flight attendant, not the pilot, not my driver, or any of my other employees. There is no choice for you to stay on board. I suggest you come willingly.”

She scoffs, “Like fuck I’m coming willingly.”

I watch as her eyes flicker sideways, registering the bathroom door just behind her a few steps away. It’s the only place she can run to, and she could lock herself inside, but it doesn’t matter if she does. I could easily break down the door to get her out. However, I’d prefer to avoid the expense and hassle of having a new door installed.

I lift my eyebrows and shake my head slowly, giving her the chance to make a better choice for herself. But of course, she chooses incorrectly. I reach for her as soon as her feet turn and she runs for the bathroom. She makes it inside just as my hand clamps around her elbow. She spins, fighting me more frantically than I had ever imagined she could, and frankly, I’m impressed by it.

I’m turned-on by it.

She shoves at my hand as I pull her toward me. She smacks my cheek once, twice, but I catch her wrist before the third time. I slide my grip from her elbow to her wrist and cross her arms in front of her, dragging her so she lands against my chest with a thump that forces the air to leave her lungs all at once.

“Valiant effort, lass, but it’s time to go home now.”

“Murphy…” She looks up at me, meeting my eyes with raw vulnerability. “Don’t do this to me. I thought you cared about me,” her voice cracks. “I thought we were falling…” A tear creeps out from the corner of her eye and trails down her flushed cheek.

That fucking hurts me.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m not trying to hurt you. I just can’t risk you running away from me before we get home. I can only keep you safe at home.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not my home. It’s not my home. Not with you.”

I let go of her wrists and wrap my arms around her, holding her close to me, hugging her. “I’m sorry it has to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to scare you.”

“I’m so fucking scared of you…”

“And that hurts me. It hurts me to know you’re afraid of me. You don’t need to be. I promise I’ll make you happy.”

“I won’t be happy.”

“You will be. I promise.”

“Stop it!” she screams against my chest. “Don’t make me promises!”

I sigh, stepping backward to pull us both out of the bathroom. I spin to block her from getting back inside again before I let go of her. She steps back and looks at me, scanning me from top to bottom. She takes another small step back. Then, she turns her head to see the cabin door that Shannon’s opened behind her.

“Go on,” I tell her.

She runs and I huff out a breath.

She’s going to try to flee.

Unfortunate for her, there’s nowhere for her to run. Our airstrip is private, and security is well-maintained.

I stride after her as she disappears through the cabin door. I arrive at the exit just in time to see her hop off the bottom step onto the tarmac, her bright yellow blouse screaming for attention as she looks both ways to assess her surroundings. I start down the steps as she decides to turn right and runs toward the hangar, away from my driver, who lunges for her.

I jog down the steps. “I’ve got her,” I tell him calmly. “Just bring the car around after us.”

“Yes, sir.”

The sun is setting as I walk across the concrete after her. She’s quick, but there’s really nowhere for her to go. She reaches the hangar and stops at a door, though I already know it’s locked before she tugs on it. She pulls and pushes, trying to get it open, then runs past the garage to the next door. Again, she pushes and pulls to no avail.

What is she planning to do if she gets inside, anyway?

My lips quirk in amusement at the thought. I love watching her thoughts in action.

“Stella,” I yell after her. “It’s a private airstrip. There’s no one here to help you.”

She looks behind her and raises her middle finger at me as I close in on her. She makes a run for the far end of the hangar and darts around the corner. She can run all the way around the hangar if she wants, but she’ll only be met with emptiness that’s surrounded by a tall fence, topped with barbed wire. She comes to a stop on the other side of the building as she realizes this.

I watch as she realizes her escape attempt is futile, as my driver pulls up in front of her on the opposite side of the hangar. She stops dead in her tracks, her shoulders slump, and she mutters, “Shit.”

I’m careful as I approach her, stopping a few feet away. “Get in the car, Stella.”

She whips around to face me. “Where are you planning to take me?”

“I told you, I’m taking you home.”

“Your home.”

“Our home. I’ll make sure you’re very comfortable there.”

This time, she lifts both hands with raised middle fingers as she scowls at me.

I walk toward her and she stands her ground, her hands raised between us as I come in close. “I suggest you don’t do that when you meet my cousin, Cordelia. She might chop off your fingers.” I turn and walk past her toward the car, sliding into the backseat where my driver holds the door open for me.

It takes a few moments, but eventually, she gives up, gives in, and climbs into the car.