King of Masters by Brynn Ford

CHAPTER 17

Murphy

I LET STELLA have the room last night. I was angry enough to cause her actual harm and thankfully, I had the good mind to remove myself from the situation before I tried. I’d left the lock on the bathroom door to allow her some semblance of privacy, but it’s a weak lock and I have a key for it, anyway.

I slowly enter our bedroom after spending the night in one of our many guest bedrooms and lock the door behind me. I glance across the room at the bed, and I’m surprised to see she’s not in it. I thought at some point she’d cave and allow herself the comfort of a warm bed to sleep in—it gets cold in this room at night, even in the summer. A glance toward the bathroom shows me the door is still shut, and probably still locked from the inside.

I huff out a breath, wondering what to make of that.

My soon-to-be wife would rather sleep on a drafty bathroom floor for the sake of demonstrating her rebellion than admit defeat and sleep in our bed.

This transition may end up being more challenging than I had anticipated, but that fact doesn’t bother me. It fuels me. It will be all that much more rewarding when I finally win her over.

I cross the room and unlock the bathroom door, pocketing the key before opening it. The door swings in and hits something which halts it. I peek my head inside to see that it’s her feet. She’s sleeping, stretched out across the floor, half on her stomach, half on her side. I wedge the door a little farther, letting it push her feet, and she jolts awake, bolting upright.

She spots me and turns to sit flat on her arse, pushing back and scrambling until her back hits the far wall. I push the door open the rest of the way and enter, then shut it behind me, leaning my back against the door to keep my distance.

“I take it you slept well?” I ask with a tilt of my head as I cross my arms over my chest.

“Fuck off.”

“I gave you the room last night. You could’ve slept in the bed. I didn’t stay here.”

“I don’t want to sleep in your bed.”

“Our bed,” I correct her.

She gives me her middle finger.

“If you play nice, I’m inclined to let you contact Cora today.”

She jumps to her feet. “Where’s my phone? I want to talk to her.”

That got her attention.

“I’ll let you talk to her if you cooperate.”

“What do you want from me? She’ll be worried sick by now. I told her I’d let her know when we landed, and it’s been—”

“Too long, I know. It will benefit us both for you to connect.”

“Like fuck it will benefit you. I’m telling her everything.”

I push off the door and move toward her. “No, you’re not going to tell her a damn thing other than how happy you are.”

“You can’t control what comes out of my mouth.”

I edge closer, pressing into her body, holding her to the wall. Her lips part as her eyes flicker up to meet mine. “You’re due to think on that one again. You can’t tell her the truth. If you do, she’ll be dead within an hour.”

“What?”

“Take off your clothes.”

“No.”

“Do I need to take them off for you? Cooperate or you won’t get to talk to her at all and that probably wouldn’t bode well for her. If she starts getting suspicious and hunting for information, she’ll have to die. I don’t think you want that responsibility weighing on your shoulders.”

She visibly swallows and shakes her head. “You’re sick. You’re delusional. How can you think I’d ever care about you when you threaten my best friend’s life?”

“You already care about me. Those feelings don’t just disappear. They’ll return in time when you learn to trust me.”

She puts her hands on my chest and shoves, but I don’t budge. “I hate you.”

I give her a smile. “At least you have some passion for me, then. I’d be more concerned if you felt nothing at all.” I take a step back to give her some space, then I begin to undress. “Take off your clothes so we can get on with our day.”

She’s fuming, panting with angry breaths, and her eyes threaten to burn a hole right through me. Yet she remains still, her back to the wall, her palms pressed to it on either side of her hips.

“Stella,” I warn, “I won’t ask you again. If you want a fight with me, you’ll get it. I will strip you myself if I have to, and I don’t think you’ll feel very good about that right now.”

I pull my shirt off and work my belt buckle, keeping my eyes on hers. I watch the way they flicker across my features and dip down to take in my bare chest.

I understand the conflict she feels. Just yesterday, she thought she was falling for me—a version of me that I’d sold her, a version of me that has since shattered in her mind. It aches a little to acknowledge that because the version I’d sold her was a true one—it would be true if I lived in her world.

But that version simply can’t exist in the world of monsters which I rule. She gets the version of me that was created by the four families—the real me.

Is that the real me, though?

Regardless, I know she can’t just let go of what she felt, and I have to use those feelings carefully, to make her fall for a ruthless king and master.

Slowly, she shakes her head, her throat bobbing as she swallows the anxiety of her continued defiance. Perhaps it’s not anxiety at all. Perhaps it’s a primal need within her to fight me because she gets off on it as much as I do. She lifts her chin and her head leans against the wall behind her as she remains still, refusing to undress.

I finish removing my clothes as my heart kicks up in rhythm, excited for the challenge of her refusal. I push open the glass shower door and step one foot inside to turn on the water. She lunges, taking the opportunity to try to get around me and out the bathroom door. But it was a useless effort on her part because I anticipated the move. I wanted her to do that.

Just as she passes me, I reach out, snatch her by the elbow, and yank her toward me. I tug hard, taking her off-guard, making her stumble over her steps. She collides with my chest as I pull to keep her upright.

With one hand firmly gripping her arm, I snake the other around her waist, holding her close as I take a step backward and pull her into the shower with me. I nudge the glass door shut with my foot and spin her to put her directly under the waterfall.

“Let me go!” she shouts, bringing her arms between us to push and shove.

The shower water soaks her, saturating the fabric of her bright yellow blouse, making it cling deliciously to her skin. “Are you going to take off your clothes now?”

“No!”

I spin her around, wrestle her arms behind her back and shove her face-first against the wall, molding my body to hers. I tug her dampened hair back over her shoulder, exposing her neck as I lean in close to whisper in her ear. “I don’t mess around, sweetheart. I don’t back down and I don’t take no for an answer.”

“You’re disgusting.”

I bend and press my lips to the curve of her neck—kissing softly to contrast the roughness in which I handle her. She stills, taken off-guard by the way my lips move across her skin with gentle kisses. “I don’t take no for an answer,” I repeat, “but I’m more than willing to be reasonable, even to change my mind given the proper persuasion.” I run my tongue from the curve of her neck up to her ear and she shivers. “But this blatant disrespect does nothing to persuade me. It only makes me want to push your buttons.”

I’m not surprised that she hasn’t moved yet. It’s been less than a day since she wanted me whole-heartedly…less than a day since she eagerly touched and fucked me. I can still feel the pulse of her lust for me in the vein in her neck. I can feel it against my chest in the way her breaths quicken and her lungs rise and fall.

Her voice is quiet. “I hate you for this.”

She says it with such conviction, yet her head inclines, allowing me easier access to tease. I continue to make her feel what she doesn’t want to feel, kissing along the curve of her neck and down her jawline.

“What do you hate me for?”

“Everything. I wish I’d never met you.” I can hear the way she struggles to breathe.

I loosen my grip on her, moving my hands to her hips as I lean forward to pin her in place with my body. “That’s quite unfortunate. I thank my lucky stars every day that I found you.”

“Don’t say shit like that to me. You don’t have the right.” She tries to bring anger back to her tone, but it only comes out as sadness and hurt—hurt that my lies have caused her. I don’t like the way that feeling strikes me, but things could never have been any different.

I had to lie to her to make her mine.

I lift the back of her blouse to find the zipper on the back of her black-and-white miniskirt. She lets me pull it down. Her fight isn’t gone, she’s just tired. I know she wouldn’t give in this easily.

I allow her to turn to face me as I pull off her skirt, letting it fall in a heap around her feet. I grab the hem of her shirt and tug upward. She hesitates, but then lifts her arms for me to peel the clinging fabric from her body.

I tell her to remove her underwear and bra with a simple flick of my eyes and she obeys. With shaking hands, she bares herself to me, and fuck, I want her. I want inside her. I want to make her come. But the glassy sheen that forms suddenly over her beautiful brown eyes quells my lust. It causes a sinking feeling in my gut that I don’t think I’ve ever felt before…and I don’t know if I can stand it.

What is this feeling?

I step back as she lets go, as she starts to cry.

I want to hold her, to make her tears stop…but I’m the one making her cry.

I pull open the shower door and step out, shutting it again between us. “Get rinsed off. Your luggage is in the bedroom. Get dressed. I’ll be back in thirty minutes, and I’ll let you talk to Cora.”

I’ve coached Stella through a script before dialing Cora’s number from a burner cell phone. Stella’s phone is already gone. I’ve shown her the photographs that our surveillance team in New York has taken of Cora just this morning, proving to Stella that Cora will be dead in no time at all if she doesn’t stick to the prescribed conversation and convince her that everything is as it should be.

Stella rips the phone from my hand as it starts to ring on speakerphone. It only rings once before Cora answers with an eager tone. “Hello?”

“Cora,” Stella says, letting out a sigh of relief. “It’s Stella.”

“Oh, my God! Thank, God. I was getting so worried about you. You said you’d let me know when you landed. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m…I’m fine. I’m okay.” She looks at me warily and I raise an eyebrow. “I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.” She paces my office as she talks. “I was just so caught up, you know?”

“You were too caught up to send a quick text? What am I gonna do with you, girl? You leave on this guy’s private plane to fly across the ocean and then don’t text as soon as you land? I was ready to call the FBI!”

“No, no, you don’t…you don’t need to do that.” She adds a fake laugh for good measure, and I nod my approval. “Everything’s fine. We’re here and just…having a great time.”

“Where is here, exactly?”

“Ireland.”

“Yes, I know that, but where in Ireland?”

She turns to look at me. “Dublin,” she lies, exactly as I told her to. “We’re in Dublin.”

“Oh. Well, whose phone are you calling from? I didn’t recognize the number.”

She glares at me, fuming as she tells the next lie. “I’m so stupid. My phone must have fallen out of my purse before we left. We’ve looked through all our luggage and everything…can’t find it anywhere.”

“You lost your cell phone? Before traveling overseas with a practical stranger? Stell. I can’t…” I hear the shift in Cora’s tone, her suspicion rising. “Are you okay? Really? Are you safe?”

Stella opens her mouth to speak, and I slowly shake my head at her before she does, reminding her what’s at stake. “Yes.” She brings lightness to her tone, doing her best to convince Cora. “Girl, I’m great.” She glares at me. “Really happy, actually. Murphy has just been full of surprises.”

“Good surprises, I hope.”

“Of course. Would I settle for anything less?” Her shoulders slump in defeat.

“You’d better not.”

I twirl my finger at her, indicating the need to wrap it up.

“Anyway, I have to go, babe. I just wanted to let you know I was okay.”

“Okay. Well, be safe, okay? Can I call you on this number?”

She looks at me and I nod. “Yes,” Stella tells her. “Just…leave a message or text if I don’t answer.”

“Okay, babe. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Stella ends the call, looking down at the cell phone for a few seconds.

I watch her anger bubble and rise, shooting through her fingertips as she hurls the phone across the room, hitting me in the chest with it—impressive aim. I catch it before it falls and set it on the desk.

“You did well,” I praise.

“Is she safe now?”

“For now, yes.”

“For now?”

“There will still be surveillance on her until I can trust you, Stella.”

“That’s not fair. That’s not right! She didn’t choose you. She wasn’t dumb enough to fall for you and fly across a goddamn ocean with you! In fact, she warned me about you. She knew! You can’t punish her like this.”

“I’m not punishing her. She’ll remain safe so long as you remain compliant.”

“I’m not fucking compliant! I never have been! Why the fuck did you choose me for this? If you wanted an obedient wife, that’s what you should’ve chosen!”

“I already have an obedient slave and it bores me.”

She pauses. “You what?”

“I wasn’t supposed to be married until I turn forty. I petitioned the board to marry early because I met a woman who challenged me, a woman with so much fire that I couldn’t ignore the flame. I met you.”

“You have an obedient slave? What do you mean?”

I sigh, leaning back in my executive chair behind my desk. “I told you I’m the O’Shea Head of House. We each own a talent slave. I recently acquired Fiona, a singer, and she’s—”

“Fiona. What the actual fuck?” She spins away, her hands covering her mouth as she paces. She drops them again as she spins to face me. “I thought Fiona was your dog. You’re telling me Fiona is a woman? You have a slave?”

“Bailey is my only dog. Fiona is a talented young woman. I can assure you that she’s well cared for.”

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. You’re a fucking monster.”

I push to my feet and march toward her. “I’m not a monster.”

She nods furiously. “You are. You’re a goddamn monster.”

I seethe. I’m trying to be patient but her inability to grasp that I’m not a monster is quickly taking me down. “Don’t call me that.”

“It’s what you are! A monster.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “Sit down and shut up.”

“I hate you.”

“Sit down and stop fucking talking. Do it before I lose my patience with you.”

She stands her ground. “I’m not afraid of you.”

I reach around to grab the back of her neck and jerk her against me. “Well, you should be.”

Her eyes widen as she watches me, waits for me to show her my true colors. If she really wants to see me as a monster, then that’s what she’ll fucking get. I squeeze her neck, spin her around, and march her forward to my desk.

I bend her over the edge, her palms coming up to brace against it as I fold her harshly over the desktop. She bucks against me as I step in close, leaning over her backside and pinning her with my weight.

“Let me up!” She squirms, her arse shifting against my cock, making me lustful when I’m trying to be serious.

I continue to squeeze the back of her neck, holding her down as my other hand drifts of its own free will. It lands against the back of her thigh, my palm stroking over her tight jeans before grabbing a fistful of her arse.

“The more you fight me, the more I want you.”

“Because you’re a sick fuck who gets off on hurting people,” she spits, her voice dripping with venom.

Her fire heats me, spreading warmth across my stomach, making my cock twitch and my balls tighten. “I only get off on your passion for me, sweetheart.” Folded over her backside, I nip at the shell of her ear.

She gasps and stills, her muscles tense and body rigid beneath me. I let go of her arse only long enough to land my hand again with a smack to her soft flesh, then I squeeze with a firm palm. She whimpers, her breaths growing heavy as I let my palm wander toward her crack and slip between her thighs. I shove my hand between them and cup her cunt, digging my fingers in roughly, making certain that she can feel me through her jeans.

She doesn’t fight me, she doesn’t even squirm. She’s still as I dig and stroke and press. She can try to pretend she doesn’t want me as much as I want her, but I know the truth. I know the lust in her eyes that I’ve watched through our laptop screens for months.

“You can’t deny the way our bodies respond to each other,” I groan, shifting to grind my cock against her arse cheek as my fingers continue to play. “If I fucked you right now, you’d let me, and you’d fucking come, wouldn’t you?”

Her voice is quiet. “You’d get off on that, wouldn’t you? If you could trick my body into coming for you, even when I’m telling you no…I’m telling you no, Murphy.”

She’s mine.

She belongs to me—body, mind, and soul.

I can do whatever the fuck I want to do with her, and I want to fuck her just like this, bent over my desk, gasping and crying for me. Yet I can’t bring myself to reach around and unbutton her jeans. I want her screaming for me because she wants me, not because she wants me to stop.

I release her neck and take a harsh step back. She pops upright and spins to face me, backing away from the desk until she hits the bookshelves lining the wall. Her cheeks are flushed—the way they always look when she’s aroused—and her eyes dart a quick glance toward my crotch.

She wants me, I know she does. And as much as that makes me want to take her, right here, right now, I know I can use her desire as leverage to draw her back in and win her trust again.

“Sit down on that fucking chair,” I tell her, pointing to the armchair across from my desk. “I need to finish up a few things, and then I’ll take you to tour your new home.”

Her forehead creases as her eyes narrow in defiance. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

I cock an eyebrow at her. “Suit yourself.” I circle my desk and adjust my fucking hard-on before lowering into my seat. I glance up at her to find her watching me as I open my laptop. “Don’t look at me like that unless you want me to fuck you, because I will, Stella.”

Her lips part as if she wants to snap back at me and I whip my head to glare at her. She folds under the intensity in my gaze and slowly moves toward the armchair. I smirk as I look at my laptop screen.

She plops down onto the seat, and as I start to type a reply to an email, I light a new flame within her with a single, condescending remark that makes both her and Bailey snap their heads up to look at me.

“Good girl.”

I spent the better part of an hour showing Stella around the estate, giving her a tour of her new home. She’s been far more resistant than I’d anticipated, but I fault myself for that. I knew how feisty she was from the day I met her. It’s what drew me to her. It’s what makes her different.

Yet it’s also what keeps her fighting me. I have to find a way to be patient with her through her fighting. I’ve only just uprooted her from her entire existence, and though I don’t think it was such a great existence, it was the life she knew. I understand that. I just wonder how long it will take for her to understand how much better her life will be now.

It’s a beautiful summer day, perfect weather to show her the beauty of our castle grounds. The front of the estate is stunning with a lovely patch of green garden surrounding an ornate fountain just on the opposite side of the gravel driveway. As beautiful as it is, it’s nothing compared to the back.

Our castle sits atop a grassy green hill that slopes downward into a rolling meadow. Gently sloping land of varying angles form the landscape, grassy hills sprinkled with the pink buds of bog-rosemary flowers and periwinkle spring squill dotting the way to the pond beneath the willow tree in the distance.

The breeze picks up at the top of the largest slope where I stand beside Stella. I watch as the warm air blows her hair back over her shoulder, the brightly dyed streak of red peeking out and skating along the breeze. Her arms are tightly folded over her chest, and the black of her painted fingernails peeks out from beneath her biceps.

“You can come outside whenever you want. Explore the grounds as much as you like.”

She doesn’t look at me. “And what if I try to escape?”

“You can’t.”

She slowly turns her head to look at me. The initial shock of her situation seems to have worn off a bit, but judgment is still ripe behind her deep brown eyes. It would be a lie to say it didn’t affect me.

“I’ll find a way to escape you,” she says quietly, but with confident determination. “You won’t be able to stop me.”

“You underestimate my reach, the security measures I’ve already put in place here.” I point far out beyond the sloping hills, down across the meadow that fades into a dense tree line. “You would get lost in those woods. It’s dense and it surrounds the land we own. But do you know what’s beyond it?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She scoffs, “The rest of Ireland is beyond it. You don’t own this world, Murphy.”

“Not alone, I don’t. But me and the four families? We own it all.”

She rolls her eyes, turning her head to look out at the grounds, away from me.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Of course not.”

“I’m surprised by that. As aware as you are of how men control you, how much influence men have over your freedom as a woman. All that fight in you against the patriarchal systems that oppress you and rob you of the privileges you should be afforded as a woman. I understand your feminism. If I were a woman, I’d probably feel the same as you. But I’m not. And regardless, the truth remains that men rule the world.”

“Bad men. Men like you.”

“There is no bad or good. There’s only truth. And the truth is that once you are involved with the four families, you can never escape us. We’re everywhere, Stella. If you somehow managed to make it through the woods and climb the fence beyond, it would only take moments for me to find your location. It would take minutes for my security team to recover you.” I turn my body to face her squarely and step closer. She glances at me over her shoulder before looking off in the distance. “If by some miracle you made it farther than that, it would be no time at all before we found you.”

“Why me?”

I reach up and run my finger through the strand of red hair mingling with the black. “Because I wanted you.”

“And if we’d never met…If your drunken brother had never stumbled into my tattoo shop, and we’d never crossed paths…”

“Nothing would have changed for you. You’d still be living your old life in New York.”

She looks down. “Then I wish I’d never met you. I wish I hadn’t texted you. I wish I hadn’t called you. I wish I never spoke to you at all.”

I swallow her words like a bitter pill.

“I wish I hadn’t opened up to you. I wish I hadn’t thought you were my friend. I wish I hadn’t…” she trails off, then lifts her head to look out again.

“Wish you hadn’t what?”

“I was falling for you.” She turns her head, scanning my features with her discerning eyes. “I was falling so hard for you. I would’ve given up my life if you’d asked me to. But you didn’t ask…you took. You lied to me about who you really are.” Her eyes narrow on me. “Do you understand what you’ve done?” Her body turns to face me, and I drop my hand from her hair. “You say you want my love. You say you want me to be your wife. The way I was falling for you…you could’ve had that. You could’ve left your family and had it all with me.”

“You really don’t understand. There is no choice for me to leave my family.”

“Would you have? If I’d asked you to, would you have done it for me?”

I take in a steadying breath before I truthfully tell her, “No.”

She shrugs, then bobs her head in a shallow nod before an unhappy smile spreads across her cheeks. “And that’s why you’ll never have my love. You may as well sell me as a slave. I’ll be worth more to you that way because I promise you, you’ll never get a goddamn ounce of love from me.” She turns and takes a step toward the house before turning back to face me. “And when I escape, I will turn you in. I will take you down. And I will show you and your godforsaken family no mercy.”