The Wolf Box Set by Penelope Sky
Maverick
Father reached the door first.“He better not die today, not before he gives me what I want.” He pounded his fist against the door, slamming his knuckles into the wood like he was there to capture the fortress rather than just pay a visit.
If Arwen thought I had no compassion, wait until she met my father. “We’ll get what we want. But let’s be delicate. The man only has weeks, if not days, to live.” I didn’t have much pity for Martin—but I did pity his daughter.
My father turned on me like I’d insulted him. “Was anyone delicate when your mother died?”
God, I knew he’d say that.
When his cheeks started to puff, I knew he was losing his temper. “Was anyone sensitive to my wife being raped—”
“We’re here and he’s alive. So let’s just get what we came for. No need to make a scene.”
“What did I say about interrupting me?” He grabbed me by the neck and started to choke me.
I threw my arm down and pushed him off. “Enough.”
“If I had my gun, I’d shoot you.”
You’d think I’d be numb to his cruelty, but it was like a fresh wound every single time. “Then how would you hold up your end of the deal? I’m the one marrying her—like you asked.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’d shoot to wound, not to kill.”
“Be careful. Because I shoot to kill—every time.”
My father stared at me coldly, his eyes turning aggressive at my threat. He’d been getting away with his offensive behavior for almost a year. His wife died, so he thought it entitled him to be the world’s biggest ass.
I could only tolerate so much.
Arwen opened the door. “That’s quite a loud knock you’ve got there…”
My father looked her over, unimpressed, and then stepped inside the house without issuing any kind of greeting.
She watched him move past her before she cocked an eyebrow and looked at me. “I see where you get it from.”
That was the worst insult she’d ever given me. I followed my father inside. “How is he?”
My father wouldn’t even tolerate the simple question. “It doesn’t matter how he is. He made a promise to us, and he will keep it…unless he wants his daughter to end up like your mother.” He walked off and headed to the dining room in the rear of the house.
She watched him go, her eyebrow staying raised like she couldn’t believe his audacity. She turned her gaze back to me, still in shock at his rudeness.
“Now I don’t seem so bad, huh?” I smiled even though I didn’t feel an ounce of joy inside my body, then headed to the entryway.
“I’ll get my father…” Arwen took the stairs.
When I passed the kitchen, I took a bottle of wine and a few glasses then joined my father.
He was huffing and puffing like a wolf about to blow the house down. He looked straight ahead and drummed his fingers against the table, so noticeably anxious that he made all the figures in the paintings anxious too.
I poured the wine and pushed the glass toward him.
He ignored it.
Maybe it was an evil thought to have, but sometimes I wished my father had died and my mother had lived.
At least she was a good person.
Martin walked into the room moments later, looking worse than the last time I saw him. He walked a little slower, breathed a little heavier, and it seemed like his skin was about to drip off his face.
Arwen pulled out the chair for him and helped him sit down. Concern was in her blue eyes, and she looked after her father with obvious love. She wasn’t the fierce woman with an attitude that could bite. Now she’d been reduced to her rawest emotions, her fears. Her father was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to help him…but she tried anyway. “How about some water?” She rubbed his shoulder as she looked down at him.
“Yes, thank you.”
She walked off, her diamond ring shining on her left hand.
My eyes went to the portrait of her on the wall. Now I noticed a distinct contrast between the painting and her physical appearance. That ring made all the difference in the world, and without her wearing it, she seemed like a changed person. It subdued her somehow, like a bridle on a horse.
My father cut right to the chase. “Ramon. Where is he going to be and when?”
Martin turned to me. “It’s nice to see you again, Maverick. I’m sorry I missed your visit yesterday—and thank you for the beautiful ring—”
“I asked you a question.” My father took over the conversation once more, ignoring anything else that wasn’t relevant to what he wanted. He was focused on one task only—to the detriment of everyone around him. “I don’t give a shit about your pleasantries. We made a deal, and you need to spit it out now or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Arwen stepped into the room, carrying the glass of water in her hands. She wore a dark blue dress that complemented her dark hair. Pearls encircled her neck, and her hair was pulled to the side, hanging down in a braid. The glass hit the table with a noticeable thud as she faced off against my father.
Arwen didn’t understand boundaries.
But neither did my father.
Martin cleared his throat. “Princess—”
She raised her voice a little louder, matching my father’s rage with her own. “Or you’ll what?”
My father stared her down, clearly surprised someone was standing their ground against him. He didn’t know if he should get up and slap her in the face or just smash her head into the wall.
“Asshole, this is how deals work.” She placed her hand on her hip. “You get your shit when both sides of the deal are completed. I haven’t married your son, and you haven’t gotten your information. That means we don’t owe you a damn thing yet. So shut your mouth, or I’ll shove this bottle of wine so far up your tight ass—”
My father launched to his feet. “You—”
“No.” I was in between them, so I rose to my feet and blocked them from each other. My father wouldn’t hesitate to hit a woman. I’d seen him do it before—just not to my mother. I grabbed his arm and kept him steady so he wouldn’t launch himself at Arwen. “We both need something here. So let’s all shut our mouths and focus on what matters. Father, sit.” I turned to Arwen. “Be silent.”
She grabbed the water again, still staring at my father with obvious threat. She wasn’t scared of him like most people—because she had no idea what kind of crimes he could commit. She walked to the other side of the table, her heels clapping against the floor as she moved. Then she set the glass of water in front of her father.
I guided my father back down into the chair. “Let’s get what we need and leave.”
When my father’s attention was directed to the reason we came here, he calmed slightly. He lowered himself to his chair, his back rigid with tension, and finally stared at Martin.
I looked at Arwen. “Leave us.”
Her attitude fired up again. “So you can berate my father—”
I stood instantly, my next words exploding like a command. “Don’t make me ask you again.” I was ordering her out of the room for her own good, because I couldn’t protect her from my father if she provoked him too much.
“I’m not a dog,” she said calmly. “I don’t obey orders—”
“Princess.” Her father patted her hand. “Let the men talk. I’m getting hungry, so how about you start dinner?”
She was too smart to believe anything he said. She stared at me with those narrowed eyes and tightly pressed lips, like this was far from over. Then she turned on her heel and slowly left the room, her hips shaking from left to right because of her feminine curves. When she was finally gone, so was the tension.
My father got right down to business. “I need all the details, Martin. Since you’re almost dead, time is of the essence.”
* * *
When my fathergot what he wanted, he stormed out of the house and left me behind.
He didn’t need me anymore. He disappeared just as abruptly as he’d arrived. He didn’t say another word, didn’t even give his condolences to Martin about his illness.
I drank my glass of wine until it was empty.
Martin stared at the painting of his daughter for a long time like I wasn’t even in the room. “When I lost my wife, I was the same way. Bitter about everything. I didn’t lose her in such a violent way, so I can’t even begin to imagine how your father feels.”
“Don’t make excuses for him.”
“I’m not.” He turned his gaze back to me. “He marches in here like the villain—but he’s trying to be the hero.”
He was no hero in my eyes.
“I’d like you to take this painting with you. I noticed you admiring it last time you were here.”
Admiring was a generous word. “It doesn’t match the other pieces in this room.”
“It’s not supposed to. I just loved it so much that I thought it belonged there. Everything in this house will be stripped away—I’d like that to survive. Take it with you.”
I had no interest in taking a portrait of a woman I didn’t even like. “Martin, I’m marrying your daughter because I have to—not because I want to.” There was no affection for her in my heart. I was barely impressed by her beauty—even though most men found her stunning. I’d been around beautiful women for so long that they all looked the same.
“Maybe…but your children might want this painting someday.”
I hated imagining a reality where Arwen was pregnant with my child—a little brat inside her. They’d piss and shit all over the place.
Martin slowly rose then made his way to my end of the table. “That ring you gave her really is beautiful. Just between you and me, I think she’s already gotten attached to it.”
I could tell she liked it the second I gave it to her. Her reaction was very sudden and short, lasting only the length of a blink of an eye. But I caught it. She still didn’t like me, but she obviously liked pretty things. “Will we see you on Saturday?”
“I’ll make it to Saturday—but not much further.” He spoke of his death so pragmatically, like he wasn’t the least bit scared.
“You seem oddly calm about this whole thing.”
“Well, I lost my wife five years ago. When you lose the love of your life, nothing is ever the same. You always feel a little lost. Thankfully, I had Arwen to give me some joy through these years, but truth be told, I’m looking forward to being reunited with her.”
It was beautiful…in a sad way.
“I wish I could be around longer to see the incredible things my daughter will accomplish…but I’ll watch her from upstairs.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll take care of my little girl. If you’ll defend her from your father, you’ll defend her from anyone. Goodnight.” He dropped his hand and left the room. A moment later, his steps were audible on the stairs.
Arwen came back to the dining room and cleared the glasses. “My father went to bed?”
“I think so.”
She still had an edge to her, obviously not quickly forgetting the conversation with my father. “Has he always been like that?”
“No.”
“Really?” She held the wine bottle by the neck, cocking an eyebrow like she didn’t believe that for a second. “He just woke up one morning and decided to be an asshole?”
“No,” I said calmly. “My mother died, so he decided to be an asshole.”
Her rage dimmed slightly, like a fading star on the other side of the galaxy. “My father went through a phase after my mother was gone…not quite as bad, though. He was more sad than angry.”
Yes, but her mother hadn’t been tortured. “I’m not his biggest fan either, so you aren’t alone.”
“He doesn’t treat you like that, does he?”
I wasn’t going to complain about my father issues to her. I didn’t even know her. “Your father said he’s looking forward to the wedding. I was thinking maybe afterward we could make him comfortable at the hospital.”
“As nice as that sounds, we can’t afford it. Our accounts are empty.”
“I’d pay for it, obviously.”
She gripped the neck of the bottle tighter, her pride wanting her to refuse the offer. But her concern for her father’s well-being was clearly more important. She even managed a kind response. “Thank you…” Her voice trembled as she said the words, like she was barely holding on to her composure. When she launched an attack against my father, she didn’t skip a beat. But now that she was alone, emotion overwhelmed her. Her bottom lip trembled, but just for a second.
I looked away, not wanting to deal with her tears. “It’s no problem.” I pushed my glass toward her and admired the way her ring reflected every single point of light that emitted from the chandelier. “Need anything else before Saturday?” I wanted to change the subject, to steer away from the heartbreak on her mind.
“No…” She grabbed the bottle and brought it to her lips.
I watched her tilt her head back and down the contents, her throat shifting as the liquid descended to her belly. Her neck was so slender, her waist so petite. It was hard to believe such an incredible voice could come from a woman so tiny.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “What’s going to happen on Saturday?”
“We’re getting married…or have you forgotten?”
She flashed me a look of menace, the evidence of her tears gone. “After the wedding. Are we going on a honeymoon? Because I need to stay with my father.”
I wasn’t whisking this woman off to an exotic location to fuck her brains out. I did that every night with an endless line of beautiful women. “No.”
“Are you expecting to consummate the marriage?”
The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. “If you want to fuck me, just tell me. Don’t beat around the bush—”
“Go fuck yourself.” She stormed off into the kitchen, bringing the glasses and bottle with her.
I couldn’t wipe off my smirk as I followed her into the other room. “The answer to your question is no. There will be somebody in my bed—but it won’t be you.” I leaned against the counter and watched her set the glasses at the bottom of the sink, drops of red wine still visible at the bottom of the bowls.
“Thank god.” She washed the dishes then dried them with a linen cloth. “Where will we live?”
“I live on the property where our family business is. It’s about twenty minutes outside of Florence.”
“Does it smell like cheese all the time?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Odd question—but no.”
When the glasses were dry, she placed them in the cabinet with the glass doors. “After meeting your father, I don’t find you quite as irritating…despite that sex comment.”
“Yeah…he always makes me look good.”
“I need to drive into Florence for practice and my shows. So I’ll need a car.”
“Done.”
She dried her hands on the towel then examined me, her eyes filled with endless thoughts. “How is this going to work? We just live our lives however we wish, but we live under the same roof?”
“You have a better idea?” I didn’t care what she did on her own time. I didn’t even care if I never saw her. All I needed to know was she was safe—to uphold my promise. We didn’t have to share a single meal together or even talk. But for public events, she would have to be the woman on my arm.
“Do I bring my lovers back to the house?”
It was hard to imagine strange men coming to my property. I didn’t care that they were fucking my wife. But I didn’t want them snooping around. “I’d prefer if you went to their place. I’m not thrilled about the idea of random men staying at my estate.”
“Fine. Will you wear a wedding ring?”
The question was absurd. “No.”
“So, I have to wear one, but you don’t?”
“It’s different.”
“You mean, it’s sexist?” she countered.
“Actually, yes. I’ll get one for the ceremony, but after that, I’ll never wear it. It’s not uncommon to see a man without a wedding ring. In fact, it’s more common.” I turned my head back to her and studied her steely gaze. “You want me to wear one?”
“Not at all. Just curious.”
“Any other questions?” I didn’t have any rules laid out because it was unnecessary. This was a total sham. All we had to do was pretend once in a while.
“Is there anything you expect out of me?”
I didn’t have any expectations at all. “I already told you my life is about working, drinking, and fucking. Don’t get in the way of that, and we won’t have any problems. It’s that simple.” I pushed off the counter and righted myself. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
* * *
She glidedher palm over my abs and slowly moved it up to my chest, worshiping the fitness of my body. Her nails slightly clawed at my skin before she made her way down to my happy trail once more. Naked and with perfect, firm tits, she was another notch on my bedpost. “So, you’re getting married tomorrow?”
“Yes.” With one hand behind my head, I stared at the high ceiling and the original moldings that were present when this estate was built hundreds of years ago. It’d been renovated, but some of the classic touches remained.
“She doesn’t mind sharing her fiancé with another woman?”
I wasn’t her fiancé. “No.”
Her hand moved down to my soft dick, wanting to get me hard again so I could make her come.
I was spent for the night.
She pouted at my resistance. “Come on…fuck me.” She gently massaged my balls.
My dread for the following day disappeared as she forced my dick to harden. I would take her on all fours, so I could stare at that fine ass as I pounded her until she buckled underneath me.
“There he is…” She pressed her face into my lap and started to suck.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed it, listening to the loud sucking noises her lips made as she tried to get the whole thing in her mouth.
My phone started to ring on the nightstand. I glanced at the screen even though I intended to ignore it, and I saw my sister’s name on the screen. There was no woman in the world who could get me to ignore that phone call.
I pushed her off me and took the call, walking to the window with the phone pressed to my ear. “Lily, will you be there tomorrow?” When I stood at the open window, I looked across the lit grounds to the iron gates that separated my property from the public.
Her silence was her answer.
I stared at the darkness of the night and felt the disappointment in my chest. “How are you?”
“I don’t know… About the same.” She sighed into the phone, like it was pressed right against her ear as she lay in bed. “I take three steps forward but two steps back.”
“At least you’re making some progress.”
“But not enough progress…”
This wedding was a hoax, but it was the only wedding I would ever have. I wanted my sister to be there, the only person in my family I actually liked. But Mother’s death and Father’s ludicrous behavior pushed her to the edge…and now she was too far gone. “I understand.” I couldn’t push her if she wasn’t ready.
“I’m sorry I won’t be there…”
“Me too.”
“Who’s the girl?”
“Her name is Arwen. She’s an opera singer.”
“She sounds accomplished… Do you like her?” Distant tears were audible in her voice, probably pained that she couldn’t give me the answer I wanted. But she had to work on herself right now. Nothing else was important.
She had an attitude that rivaled a stallion. Her mouth could unleash insults faster than bullets left a gun. She wasn’t afraid to slap me when I deserved it—and even stab me if I deserved it. “She’s fine.”
“She’s fine?” Lily knew I was marrying Arwen because I was being coerced into doing it, but she still found my response comical. “Is she pretty?”
She had an hourglass figure and a lovely face to match. Even if she didn’t have such an incredible voice, she could probably charm the crowd on looks alone. Men tossed roses on the stage every night, not because of her pipes, but because of her tits. “She’s fine.”
Lily chuckled, and since it was so rare, it was beautiful. “I guess I’ll see for myself…eventually.”
“When you’re feeling better, we’ll get lunch.” I tried to keep her positive because that was essential to her recovery. I was the only coach she had because Father seemed indifferent to her illness. To him, she was just a brat looking for attention, but since I experienced the same heartache, I actually had some compassion.
“Maybe,” she said, her voice escaping as a whisper. “How’s Father?”
“We don’t have to talk about him.”
“We’re both thinking about him.”
He was the monster who didn’t live in a dark cave. He walked directly in the sunlight, stomping everything in his path. “He’s the same.”
“Do you think he’ll come back when he kills Ramon?”
He was too far gone at this point. Killing Ramon wouldn’t suddenly make him human again. It would just cross off an item on his list—then he would never have anything else to work toward. “I doubt it.”
“Yeah…me too. What does he think of Arwen?”
Just like with everyone else, he didn’t give a damn about her. “I don’t think he thinks anything.”
“I feel bad for her. Her new father-in-law is the devil.”
I didn’t respect Martin for the quandary he put himself in, but I did admire his parenting approach. He was affectionate and loving toward his daughter—and even to me.
“How does she feel about all of this?”
“She’s dreading it as much as I am. She has her own life—I have mine. We’ll just be two strangers under one roof.”
“I guess that’s not so bad.”
When we ran out of things to talk about, we sat in mutual silence, listening to each other breathe. I leaned against the wall and kept my gaze out the window, remembering how different my life used to be before Mother was taken. We were a family—all four of us. Now we were all in separate places—mentally and physically.
“I’ll let you go, Mav. Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up and kept my gaze out the window, hating my father even more than I had before. He still had two members of his family left, but once Mom was gone, he wanted nothing to do with us. He failed to realize how much his daughter needed him…how much she was drowning. So I had to step up—because she had no one else.
