have nothing to fear tonight so long as you can do that.”
“Okay.” I breathed, nodding my head.
Darren then dipped down and kissed me, wrapping his arms around my waist
and holding me tightly. His kiss made me forget about the impending evening, and
I was grateful for the small distraction that ended too soon.
Releasing me, he took my hand and stepped out of my line of sight so I could
take in the beauty of the house that stood before me, Clive and Owen following at
our backs. It was just as big and magnificent as Darren’s was, besides the colonial
architecture.
I held Darren’s hand tightly, sure enough that I would cut off circulation, but he
just gripped my hand back, giving me a reassuring tug. He rang the doorbell as we
waited on the front porch before a young man in a light blue dress shirt and khakis
answered the door.
“Mr. Davis”—he smiled warmly—“good to see you again.” His dark hair
accented his dark eyes, and he looked to be of an American Asian descent. No
accent, though. He glanced at me briefly, but then took another look for a second
too long. I felt Darren tense beside me, but as quickly as it came, it was gone.
“Charles.” Darren nodded darkly.
“Please come in,” Charles said as he stepped aside, holding the door open for us.
“Mr. Rainer is in the dining room.”
“Thank you.” Darren dismissed him and led us through the house. The house
was decorated beautifully with lots of art, and I found it difficult to keep my eyes off
the walls as my heels clicked away on the marble floor beneath us. There was a wide
staircase off to the right in the foyer, and we bypassed that to head deeper into the
back of the house, turning to the right and into the dining room. Clive and Owen
took up post just outside the entranceway.
Redwoods, creams, and burgundies exquisitely decorated the dining room. There
was a grand chandelier hanging above the long redwood table, a cabinet of fine
China and crystal against the wall, and a large bay window, giving access to the
woodsy scenery of the backyard.
Sitting at the table was the same man I had met at Daniel and Katheryn’s baby
shower. Matthew Rainer. I made sure to pay close attention to him. With them
being such good friends, I was shocked I’d never seen him at the house before.
“Right on time,” he said as he got up and shook Darren’s hand, a friendly smile
on his face.
“As always,” Darren said.
“Miss Wilder, it’s nice to see you again,” Matt said, giving me a small nod.
“You as well,” I replied curtly, hoping that wasn’t against the rules. Wasn’t it
usually speak when spoken to and as little as possible?
“Shall we?” Matt said, gesturing toward the dining room.
Darren led me into the dining room, but as we got closure to the table, I noticed
there were only two place settings and a cushion on the floor next to one of the
chairs. I felt my heart skip a beat with rage as I realized who the damn cushion was
for. Darren confirmed my anger when he stood by the chair and pointed at the
floor, eyeing me with that challenging look of his. My lips formed a tight line as I
sunk my teeth into my tongue to force myself from verbally lashing out. This was
bullshit, and he was totally going to hear about it later.
Begrudgingly, I lowered myself to the pillow, glaring at Darren the whole way
down and sat back on my heels. He wore a smug little smile on his face as he
unbuttoned his jacket and took his seat in the chair next to me. He was so getting
the cold shoulder tonight. I couldn’t believe he was going to let me be degraded like
this. Just because this asshole treated his women like this didn’t mean I had to be
subjected to it. I could see the lesson in humility and Darren’s gracious generosity.
He might be a self-serving, sadistic, killer crime lord, but at least he let me sit at
the fucking dinner table.
Point made.
Darren and Matt began to engage in conversation, mostly about football for
some reason, and I had no interest in paying attention to that shit. It was quickly
forgotten when I looked across the way from under the table and saw a young
blonde kneeling on a similar cushion next to Matt. His poor little slave. But my eyes
nearly bulged out of my head while my heart stopped in its tracks when I suddenly
recognized the blonde. Kayla.
Holy fuck, she was alive! She was alive, and she was right in front of me, looking
right back at me as if she were looking at a ghost. I forced myself to quiet the
strangled
