BURN

Virtues and Lies Book 1

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ALEXANDRA SILVA

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 Contents

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue

About the Author

Acknowledgments
Also by Alexandra Silva

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BURN © 2019 by Alexandra Silva
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or transmitted in any form
without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations for review
purposes.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover design and formatting by LJ Designs
Cover image by Regina Wamba
Cover model is Anthony Kemp
Editing by Kelly Allenby

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OceanofPDF.com
 Prologue
MAXWELL

C utting the end of my Cuban, I wait for Francis and Christopher to

settle as I light it evenly. The fire crackles in the silence
enveloping the small drawing room facing the dark lake. The quiet
darkness is one of the things I love about the North. We’re just touching the
edge of Scotland, and although the nights are cold, they’re clear. Beautiful
and serene.
“Sit.” I tell them when they both stand looking at me, like they’re in a
hurry to get back to the dining room and the gossiping.
“What’s going on, Max?” Francis comes closer, leaning on the back of
the armchair opposite mine, rather than taking a seat.
“I received those from the priest today.” They both follow my gesture to
the coffee table. Francis reaches for the envelope and makes quick work of
going through the contents.
“They know.”
“What’s going on?”
“Sit down, Christopher.” He looks to his dad, and when Francis sits, he
follows suit.
“It was only a matter of time before they found out we were onto them.”
Blowing on my cigar I let Francis finish going through the envelope.
“Max.” I know the moment he finds the photos, his face pales and he
gets this wild look in his eyes that is a promise of all the things he’ll do to
keep our girls safe.
“We need to close ranks. Keep it close, Francis. And you need to make
sure that Penny and Cassie are ready for anything that might happen. Emily
knows what to do if things go south, and these things always have a way of
going that way.”
“We’ve discussed this, Penny doesn’t want Cassie to know. She’s a baby
still.”
“She’s a woman, and she needs to know the dangers around her so she
can guard herself.” No man wants to be the one to show their child the
darkness of the world around them, but sometimes it’s the best thing for
them.
This is what’s best for Cassandra. Regardless of whether or not I want
to keep my granddaughter innocent or not.
Leaning forward, Christopher lights a cigarette and once he’s drawn a
lungful and blown it out, he says, “Why does she need to know now?”
“Because that’s the only way to keep her safe. You don’t need to dig to
find her, she’s right there in the open.”
“She is safe!” Francis grits, I can understand why he thinks that. But
he’s wrong.
“Those photos say otherwise!” Dropping the cigar into the ashtray, I sit
forward, bringing myself closer to him. “She won’t be safe until this is over,
and until then the only way to make sure nothing happens to her is to make
her aware of what could.”
“No.”
“Grandad’s got a point, Dad.” Christopher stands, rounding the coffee
table before he sits on the edge of it and takes the papers in his father’s
hands. “If she knows…”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You’re the lawyer, you tell me what happens when you break
confidentiality.”
Christopher looks over the photos of his mother and sister.
“Those change everything. If she’s a target, she needs to be aware of it.”
“Grandad’s right.”
“Francis, we have no idea who we’re dealing with. We have a list of
transactions and one lead. But they know about Torch, secret operation or
not, they know, and they are coming for us. If you don’t tell Cassie, you are
making her an open target.”
“She doesn’t know; she isn’t going to know. End of.” Francis stands,
taking the papers from Christopher, he throws them in the fire.
“Burning them won’t make it go away. Do the right thing.”

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 Chapter 1

CASSANDRA

W atching as my mother wipes another tear from her glistening

eyes, I find myself incapable of doing the same to mine. It
seems wrong to brush off my pain when it’s the only thing
that seems to be the perfect companion for all the love I have for my
grandfather. My heart sinks painfully lower into my belly, the acid
withering it a little more.
Looking back to the orchestra, I try to take a deep breath to staunch my
grief, but it’s too dim for anyone to notice anyway. I could be weeping at
the top of my lungs, and still, no one would hear me with the orchestra’s
full-bodied sound enveloping the performance hall.
My heart hangs on the verge of overwhelming heartbreak as I sit in the
box overhanging the stage. The London Philharmonic Orchestra is
effortlessly playing Fauré’s Pavane, the pizzicato of the strings punctuates
every one of my breaths at the same time as the wind section covers me in
head to toe goose bumps. Teeth clenching in preparation for the devastating
climax, my fingers busy themselves with the white brocade flowers on my
yellow dress.
The falling notes, the way they trill like autumn leaves on a gust of
wind, make it impossible for me to breathe properly, like I’m about to fall.
I know it’s not the neckline of my dress that’s doing it, but still I fist the
fabric at the hollow of my throat and give it a soft tug, despite knowing it’ll
make little difference to my breathing capability.
 Dragging in a desperate wisp of air through my nose, my briny tears slip
down the back of my throat with the loaded air. I’m trying so hard to get
myself together that I miss the finale of the piece. I’m left with nothing but
roaring and jarring applause ringing in my ears as my eyes fix on the black
clad orchestra. They turn the pages of their program, looking completely
unaffected. So composed, considering they’ve crushed my heart.
It’s unbearable to look at them for a second longer, and as my gaze lifts
it falters on another. My eyes hold his across the quaint auditorium and my
heart stutters before it races in my tight chest. He’s far enough that I can’t
tell their colour, but something about their sloping set captures me.
Something about the way they narrow on me, like they can see all the things
ravaging my head and my heart.
I’m unable to look away with the way his unwavering gaze holds me, it
feels like fire will rain from the sky and scorch me. Balling my hands on the
armrests of my seat, my fingers press the buttons on my long sleeves into
my wrists so hard that it pinches as the choir’s woeful voices render me
immobile.
They’re singing Mozart’s sorrowful requiem meant to mourn true,
undying, holy love and I don’t know how long I’ve sat here, my unmoving
gaze blurring and distorting the eyes looking right back at me from across
the room. The soft lights in the box opposite ours allow me to make out the
deep set of his eyes. So deep that I might fall right into their abyss.
Completely entranced by them, I jump as my brother’s hand rests on
mine.
“You all right?” His question is barely audible through the melancholy
of the voices wailing, Lacrimosa, in a tongue so old that it sounds
otherworldly.
“Yes.”
Looking back to the shadowed box, I’m met with an impassive side
profile that rivals that of aristocracy.
His cheekbones are so high that they glow in the dim light, and the way
his tongue runs over his lip before he pulls it into his mouth, has me doing
the same.
There’s a forceful tug in the pit of my belly, right where my heart has
fallen. It’s new and strange, and it feels taut like pulled rope, and it has me
unable to look away. The urge to watch him is disconcerting and it makes
me feel at odds with myself, because I’ve never felt like this before. Like
the world around me and everything in it has disappeared.
Forcing my gaze back down towards the stage, my eyes dart back as he
glances back at me. His head barely turns, but I can feel his fixed stare. And
with the heated weight of it, my thoughts scramble, my heart adding an
extra beat to its rhythm as goose bumps breakout across my skin.
Jesus, my aching lungs haze my head, and as the corner of his mouth
quirks up it seems impossible for me to gather my wits.
Before I can stop myself, I’m rising from my seat. Forcing my eyes
away from the stranger, I shake my brother’s hand off mine and smile the
best I can. I slip past him and his girlfriend, behind the red velvet curtains,
until I burst through the door of our grand box. Closing it behind me as the
cool air engulfs me.
Oh, God. What the hell is wrong with me?
My body plasters to the wall, my skin becoming clammy as it cools
rapidly. And trying to collect myself quickly as the door beside me opens, I
fix another smile on my face.
“What’s wrong?” Christopher asks, as he takes his phone from his
pocket, checks it and quickly slips it back in.
“It’s really warm in there.”
It’s actually a combination of things. The heat. His stare. The way my
heart is thrumming…I’d begun to forget that it could drum like that.
Narrowing his honeyed eyes on mine with a lopsided smirk he asks,
“Want a drink?”
I give him a nod, turning on my heels towards the very conveniently
placed champagne bar. Christopher’s hand rests on my waist as we walk in
synchronized steps through the quiet parqueted corridor.
“I miss Grandad.” He says it out of nowhere with a light squeeze of his
hand. Pausing by the entrance to the bar, I look up to find a melancholy
expression on his face. “Feels wrong being here without him.”
“Me too.” I whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek which he fails to
wipe off as usual. It’s been his thing since I can remember. The almost
seven-year age gap between us did nothing to alter our closeness, and we’ve
always had our little jokey jibes at one another. But since our grandfather’s
freak helicopter crash things have changed.
Trying to lift the mood, he grins down at me from his six-three height,
“Brut, Demi-Sec or Rosé?”
 “Surprise me.” Forcing a smile to match his grin, I take a step away
from the bar entrance and turn to him. “I need to powder my nose.”
Christopher chuckles at the voice I put on, like my mouth is filled with
too ripe, sickly, squishy plums.
“Don’t be too long, okay?”
Thumbing the Cartier diamond bars that adorn my lobes, I scurry to the
toilet as ladylike as possible. The earrings are on the heavy side as they run
almost to the very top of my ears, and they tug painfully at my flesh with
every step. And still, I know I’ll wear them again because they were a
present from Grandad on my twenty-first birthday.
I hold my hands under the cold running water as I look in the mirror and
the sharp glint of the icy jewels has the ache in my chest cutting through me
like a blunt blade.
“It’s okay,” I tell myself with a deep breath, trying to stabilise my
emotions. “Not now.” Bracing myself on the vanity, I count my breaths.
One. Two. Three. Four…
I have no idea how long it takes me to swallow down the grief that
threatens to choke me, but by the time I waltz out of the toilet I feel like I
can go back to the concert without falling apart again.
In my hurry to get back to Christopher I pick up the long skirt of my
dress. Focusing on the ground my heels are eating up, I run straight into a
very rigid body. My hands jamb into a hard wall of muscle and at the same
time, a very warm pair of hands grasp my arms.
For a moment I’m completely muddled. My scattered wits have me
mute as my heart runs off with my lungs and I am left unable to swallow
down the saliva that’s pooling in my mouth from the woodsy scent
enveloping me.
I might be going blind too, because when I look up everything is blurry.
Eyes, lashes, lips. I can see the tip of his nose though. It makes my
embarrassment seep deeper into my bones that feel too heavy, rather than
like the usual jelly.
Shit, it takes me forever to catch up with myself and my focus to return.
The way his eyes feel like they’re eating me alive make it impossible for
me to get my words and thoughts to align with my actions.
Why is he looking at me like that? The question overshadows my logic,
and instead of stepping back, it feels like we’re inching closer.
 “Hello,” he says, his gaze trailing down my face until his head leans
forward, close to mine, and when my eyes follow down to where he’s
looking, I fluster.
It takes me a moment to co-ordinate my hands so they release the
unbuttoned tux jacket fisted in them.
When I finally drop my hands, I look up at him.
Oh my God. Oh shit…
I might not have thought it, but I’m sure that subconsciously I knew he
would be good-looking. But this close…he’s so damn gorgeous with his
slopped grin, that I can’t make sense of it.
“Found your feet yet?” he asks with a low chuckle. I’m not sure
whether it’s mocking or righteous, but the rumbly depth of his voice travels
down my body, making my knees wobble as I press my thighs so tight
together that it feels uncomfortable.
I can’t quite think of what it is that makes his voice so different to any
other I’ve heard before, but it affects me physically. It has pride, something
I never knew a voice could possess.
“Hello,” I manage to croak, as my mind continues debating the make
and model of his voice.
My gaze roams up his face far too slowly, my insides heating again as I
register the straight slope of his nose, the very tiny freckle at the top of his
right cheekbone and the scar that sits above the neatly tapered end of his
eyebrow.
I catalogue all those things, even the way his coiffed hair is a little
bushy and perfectly messy on top, before I pause on his eyes.
Deep and broody, their green is golden in some parts and mossy in
others. They’re a handsome and hypnotising shade of muddy autumn grass
that’s still trying to regain some of its vibrancy after drying in the sun.
That thought makes my heart thud, autumn is my favourite season. I
like the slight chill and the warm colours, the fireworks and bonfires. But
most of all, I love the way the air burns my face just enough to make me
feel sparks. And, God, he’s making me feel all the sparks and chills.
Eyes flitting between mine, his hands loosen on my arms enough that
disappointment starts to shadow my wonder of him. And when he lets his
hands drop, I almost go with them.
Curling my toes in my shoes is just about enough to tense my legs so
that I can stand on my own two feet.
 “I-I’m…sorry,” I murmur, taking a step back.
“As am I, Buttercup.” Unlike mine, his voice is steady and strong. It
holds its own in our vast surroundings.
Buttercup? His comment leaves me baffled, as without so much as a
goodbye, only a faint chuckle, he steps to the side. Taking one last look at
me, his gaze roves down my body before he saunters off.
Spinning, I watch him round the hallway back to his box with his hands
in his pockets. His tuxedo jacket impeccably gloves his lean torso and his
beautifully tailored trousers taper down his long legs. The hems lift slightly
with his every step, revealing bright yellow socks that aren’t far off the
colour of my dress. And it makes me smile, even when disappointment nags
me that I don’t know his name or anything barring the colour of his eyes
and the sound of his voice.

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 Chapter 2

CASSANDRA

I t had to be the dress. There’s no other explanation for it.

Buttercups are commonly yellow. They’re such a flimsy flower
that the more I think about why he would call me it, the more
annoyed I feel.
Flimsy is not a word I would describe myself with, and yes, he might
have seen me cry, but the music…the atmosphere. Crying doesn’t make me
weak or breakable. And anyway, he was the one that sauntered off like…
like… Like he couldn’t give two shits.
Over the past week I’ve scoured every possible magazine and
newspaper that covered the event, but he’s in none of the photos. It doesn’t
make sense, it was an invite only event, which means he has to be someone.
Especially if he was in a box, I know we only got ours because of my late
grandad’s title—Lord Maxwell Emsworth—something he inherited from
his father and passed it down to his son, who’ll pass it down to my cousin,
Freddie.
Poking my arm, he asks, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Looking around the dining room of our country home, I try
to shelve my thoughts of the concert and green eyes that felt like they could
eat me alive.
“Whatever you’re thinking about looks like trouble, Princess.”
“That’s rich coming from you!” Scowling up at him, I find him grinning
like the cat that got the cream.
“I’m not the one that’s all sweetness and innocence.”
 Looking away from me, I watch as he glances between Christopher and
his girlfriend with a furrowed brow. Freddie has all the sharp angles of a
serial killer and the airs of a true farm boy. The blonde of his hair has a
slight red tinge to it, and his eyes are so blue, they’re like ice straight out of
the freezer.
“What’s wrong, Hells Bells?”
“Start on me, Freddo, and I’ll take you to town!” Glaring at him,
Arabella pushes her sad looking salad and steak away. The twisted look on
her face enough to show she’s still not feeling well.
“So sorry, Bella Boo.” He coos at her, earning him a slap to the back of
the head from my brother.
“Leave her alone.” Warning Freddie with a pointed look, Christopher
strokes Arabella’s shoulder before asking, “Do you want something else?”
When they arrived at Heavers Hall earlier today, she looked ready to
vomit, and although she’s fixed her make-up and her hair, she doesn’t look
much better.
“Is there anymore sorbet?”
“Fuck me, are you even going to be able to go tonight?” Scraping his
chair on the polished soft wood floor, Freddie gets up from the table and
pours himself a drink from the wet bar along the wall behind me.
“Go where?”
“Party.” Christopher answers me with a blasé shrug.
“Seriously? I need details!”
He looks at me with the same pinched expression he puts on when he
doesn’t want to be interrogated by Mum.
Like that’s going to stop me.
“What party are you going to?”
“Mine!” Throwing back his neat gin, Freddie crouches beside me with
mischief all over his face. “Want to come, Princess?”
“No.” Christopher bites out, barely allowing Freddie to finish.
“Oooo. Shall I start calling you Daddy?” Laughing, Freddie winks at me
before shuffling back onto his seat, slouching as he fiddles with the rings on
his fingers. “Daddy Christopher doesn’t want you to have fun, Cass.”
“Why do you have to be such a fucking cunt all the time?”
“Lord Cunt to you!”
“You’re both twats and I can’t deal with your shit today.” Arabella
yawns as she rests her head on Christopher’s shoulder. “To answer your
question, yes, I’m going.”
“Do you need something to perk you up?”
“No!” Christopher grits at him viciously.
“God, you’re so bossy.” Turning to look at me he tips his head toward
Christopher and with a feigned whisper says, “So bossy.”
I shake my head, laughing at his piss taking grin. He knows exactly how
to wind people up, and like the arsehole he is, he enjoys it like it’s a sport.
“Anyway, how’s the dissertation?”
For a moment his provocative grin softens into a sympathetic smile,
something you don’t see often from him. He’s normally very buttoned up
and formal with his sentiments. Preferring to hide behind his arrogant
humour.
“It’s getting there, I guess. It feels like it’s the longest diatribe, but I
suppose that’s what a dissertation is meant to be. Obviously, it doesn’t help
that I’ve chosen restoration and conservation as my focus and Professor
Winthrop is like the John the Baptist of the subject.”
“Stop it, I’m sure she’s lovely. I’ve seen her around and she’s really
nice.” Arabella says, her cheeks are flushed like she’s too warm.
“Sounds more like you know her, rather than you’ve seen her around.”
“It’s a small, small world…” Freddie sings, his snickers audible as he
gets up from the table again. “Come on then, Princess. Are you coming or
not?”
“Depends on where it is.”
“Seriously, Cass, you need to get with the programme!”
“What programme? Nobody tells me anything!” Standing up, I tilt my
head back to meet his gaze. Freddie pauses, looking at me with a pensive
frown that has my breath sticking in my airway. There’s something behind
his cold eyes that softens and warms, it’s the same look he gave me at our
grandfather’s funeral.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Fred?”
“I’m not.” Shaking his head, he guides me out to the hallway quietly.
When we reach the cloakroom, he nips in and grabs our coats. “Stop
burying yourself under all your books.”
“I have a degree to ace.”
Blowing out a breath, like I’m exasperating him, he grabs his keys from
his coat pocket as he stops by the door. “Party today, master the arts
tomorrow. Tonight is going to be fucking epic!”
 “What happened to a small get together?” Arabella approaches us, an
accusing glare directed right at Freddie.
“What always happens to our small gatherings…”
“For fuck’s sake, Fred, we really did mean small.” Christopher knocks
our cousin’s shoulder with his fist.
“It was inevitable. Word always gets out.” A goofy grin lights his face as
he shrugs. He’s so good-looking and almost too striking that I’m surprised
he doesn’t have a string of girls constantly latched on to him. “Plus, we
have shit to tend to that looks better done in a crowd.”
“You’re a fucking liability, you know that?” With a growl, Christopher
helps Arabella into her coat before leading her out of the door.
Following them out of the house, I tug down the hem of my grey jumper
dress. Pulling my powder blue faux fur coat taut around me.
Christopher opens the passenger door to his sleek Lexus and helps
Arabella in. Slamming the door shut he looks across the roof of his car and
scowls at Freddie. “Prick.”
Nothing ever changes with them. They’ve always been like Tom and
Jerry, constantly fighting and jibing, but unable to live without each other.
“Get over it.” Freddie gives him the finger, turning us both towards his
sporty, dark grey Merc. “Coming?”
“Yes, but what shit are you up to?”
“Guy shit,” Christopher replies taking my hand and pulling me towards
his car. “If you’re coming, you’re with me.”
“Fucking chill, bellend! I’ve got it all covered, anyone goes near her
and it’ll be all pew, pew, pew…”
“You’re not some frontier cowboy,” I tell him with a roll of my eyes and
knock to the gut. “Or my bodyguard, so…”
“Who invited you, though?”
“Prick!” Turning my back to him I follow Christopher back to his car.
“That was fucking original.” Freddie laughs and as I’m about to slip
into the back of Christopher’s car, he shouts, “Last one to the house is a shit
head.”
“Fucking knob.” Christopher groans.
“Yeah, but what would you do without me, dickhead?” Opening the
door to his car, Freddie winks at me and asks, “Want to drive a real car,
Princess?”
“Jesus, will you fuck off and get out of here already?”
 We have this conversation a lot. Freddie seems to think that my
convertible Evoque is nothing more than a Barbie mobile because it’s not
an accident waiting to happen. Mind you, in his hands? I think any car is
dangerous.
“Is it me, or does he become an even bigger lunatic with age?” Arabella
says with a drawn-out breath.
“I don’t know. He’s always been wild.” Fluffing my hair, I give myself
another once over in the tinted window. “Should I go change?”
“No, you look great. I on the other hand…” she murmurs. Sighing as
she loosens her messy bun and shakes her hair until it looks artfully messy,
before topping up her lip gloss. “I’ll have to do.”
“You always more than do, Bells.” Christopher tells her as he reaches
over and squeezes her thigh.
“You have to say that.” Cupping his hand, she squeezes and then traces
up his arm, shoulder and neck, until her fingers are knotting in the short hair
at his crown. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder she says, “But, thank you,
anyway.”
It’s such an intimate gesture that I find myself turning to look out of the
window. I watch fields and farms fly past as we navigate the twisting
country roads until I recognise where we are. Even in the pitch black of
night, I recognise the abandoned mansion on the edge of the Hamilton’s
estate.
It’s gone from a haunted looking house, that Freddie’s stepdad inherited,
to an almost ruin. But still, it stands and hosts some of the best parties I’ve
been to.

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 Chapter 3

CASSANDRA

L anterns dot the in and out driveway that’s been made into a
makeshift car park for the expensive cars lining the front of the
old, abandoned house. Ivy covers the facia of the stone building
giving it an ethereal beauty that’s even prettier in daylight.
Making our way inside, I’m as surprised as always that it doesn’t smell
of damp and mildew and all the things that constitute to decay. Instead it’s
got that overwhelming botanical scent that comes from seeping leaves, as
well as, cigarettes and a melange of expensive perfumes.
The ivy has crept from the outside in and the tall double height stone
arches are thick with it and other shrubbery. Even the old chandeliers are
stripped of their expensive crystal, instead, they drip in foliage, the ivy
curling down towards the ground, unfurling like it’s looking for something
else to wrap itself around.
More lanterns line the stone steps, they’re bright enough to make each
one visible, but they still keep most of the dark mystery to the place that’s
amped up by the punchy electronic music pounding the air.
There are pockets of people dotted everywhere and they get heavier
towards the main part of the house, where the music is louder and sinks
deeper into your bones.
“Make sure you don’t go out of sight, got it?” Christopher whisper
shouts into my ear as he and Arabella walk close behind me.
He always gives me this freaking speech detailing where I can and can’t
go. He may as well tell me what I can and can’t do. These people are meant
to be friends, acquaintances at the very least.
Why does he worry so much all the time?
“Why don’t you go take care of your guy shit and leave me to take care
of myself?”
“Don’t be a brat.” He turns me to him and the way in which he’s glaring
at me really pisses me off.
Arabella looks between us and when he opens his mouth to say
something else, she interjects, “Christopher, I need to get a water. The smell
in here is making me feel sick.”
Pulling her closer, his glare on me turns into a scowl dripping with
authority. “Stay. In. Sight. Understand?”
“Fully. Grown. Adult. Got it, Daddy?” My tone is mocking and when
Arabella laughs, he growls so loudly that I think he’s going to drag me
around with them the rest of the night, as punishment.
He contemplates it too, I can see it in the way his face is all screwed up
and just when his hand starts to reach for me, Fleur comes to the rescue.
“What the fuck took you so long, babe?” My best-friend jumps me and
with a smiling nod to Christopher and Arabella she takes me into what used
to be the formal drawing room. The room is long, and the panelled walls
have seen better days along with the chequered floor. “Freddie said you
guys were right behind him.”
Cleared of some of the natural debris, the outside wall is lined with
large wooden picnic benches, whilst the other has crates, a couple of rusted
enamel bathtubs and a rowing boat filled with cans and bottles of drink.
“Christopher was driving at the legal speed limit.”
“Really?” She’s as surprised as I am, he always drives like he’s a
fugitive being chased by the law. “What’s his problem, anyway? He looked
like he was about to put you on the naughty step.”
Shrugging, I take the can of Pink Gin and Tonic she produces from one
of her jacket pockets. “This stuff is horrible.”
“I know. I’m not a fan either, but it does the job, right?”
“I guess.” Taking a long, flat fizzed pull, I watch the other people
milling around from our corner of the room. I have this weird shadowing
sense of being watched. It’s twisting at my insides and making my skin
break out in goose bumps.
Searching the room for Christopher, the feeling doesn’t die down, even
when I don’t find him. Everyone is busy enjoying themselves, no one’s
looking in our direction.
In the opposite corner of the room, Freddie’s got himself an audience.
It’s weird, considering he’s more of a people watcher.
“Freddie looks…different.” Tilting her face, Fleur sways to the music,
with her head bopping from side to side in time with her feet, she looks
sexy as hell.
Her short bob is all messy waves, her grungy make up makes her dark
eyes look so big that you can’t help but look right at them. Although she’s
tiny and petite, she’s a freaking bombshell in her mini dress and bomber
jacket with her trusty Doc Martens.
Fleur makes effortless look polished.
I wish I was more like her, but my height makes effortless moves like
hers look so uncoordinated that it appears as though I’ve had too much to
drink. “I know, right? I swear he’s taller.”
Laughing breathlessly, she says, “Yeah, taller, broader, wilder. He’s
something, all right.”
“Would you like a tissue?” If she carries on ogling Freddie in the
shameless way she’s doing now, she might drool all over herself.
“Oi!” Narrowing her eyes, she elbows me. It’s her thing. She does it so
much that it’s almost like an extension of her eye expressions.
“He would eat you alive!”
“I fail to see the negative to that idea.”
“The negative is that he would chew you up and spit what’s left of you
out before you’ve even warmed his bed. Have you ever seen Freddie take
anything seriously?”
“You know, virgin girl, sex can just be for fun.”
“Did you want to announce that any louder?” Taking another sip of my
drink, I cringe but the lingering aftertaste of the floral tonic makes me go
for another, and then another. Until I’ve finished the can in my hand and am
being handed another by Fleur.
“I don’t want to go overboard.” I have to shout over the music that has
gotten so loud that it astonishes me the windows aren’t shattering and
blowing from their frames.
“These are watered down compared to the real deal, and anyway, we’re
letting our hair down. My diss is kicking my butt, and I’ve missed you.
Plus, a little loosey goosey never hurt anyone.”
 Fleur is like family. Her mother died a few years back from a freak
drowning accident and my mother made sure that she will always have a
maternal figure. I’m surprised she didn’t come down to Heavers with us in
the first place. She’s the sister I never had.
Taking a sip of my fresh drink, my eyes pause on another set and when
he smiles back at me, I feel a little self-conscious. Whenever a guy comes
near me, I can’t help but freeze. It’s the craziest thing, but I just don’t know
what to do with the attention.
So, naturally, when he starts strutting over, my tummy starts to do this
uncomfortable twisty thing that makes me think back to the concert and
how my butterfly filled tummy made me feel giddy and needy for more
than just a look or accidental touch.
I’m not feeling that right now, and all I can do is compare the stranger
walking towards me to the stranger that walked away.
His blonde hair almost glitters as fragments of light catch on it, but it’s
too neat and too light.
“Oh, hello, he’s keen.” Fleur says, laughing, and side-eyeing the guy
walking towards us, and a part of me shrinks a little within myself. I don’t
want him to come over to me.
Please talk to Fleur. Please.
The darker electronic music fades into something a little chirpier and
he’s standing far too close to me.
“Would you like to dance?” he asks, his voice the kind of nasal that
makes me cringe.
I have no idea what’s gotten into me, because he is striking in his
fairness. His skin is pale in the muted light, and his eyes are so light that
they reflect every ray of light that finds them. And he’s tall, but not as tall
as…
Shit!
Taking a deep breath, I force a smile onto my face in the hopes that if
I’m nice enough at ignoring him, he’ll give up and move on.
“She’d love to.” Fleur takes my drink and nudges me closer to him.
Ugh, I hate her. And if she wasn’t the girl that always has my back, I’d
hate her to the point I might actually murder her.
“Actually,” turning completely away from Fleur I take a deep breath and
look straight at the guy that’s standing there looking at me like I’m a certain
win for him. “I’m really sorry, but…”
 “It’s one dance and I don’t bite.”
The guy, though? God, he’s looking at me all smiley and nice. And it
really fucking sucks because the way his blue eyes widen when I look back
at him, I know I can’t say no.
“One dance.” I tell him, and he doesn’t waste a second before he steps
flush to me and draws me to his body with a laugh.
Fleur scuttles off with a victorious grin and I can make out that he’s
saying something, but the loud music makes it impossible for me to catch it.
“Pardon?” I ask, one of his hands is sitting on my hip and he pulls me
closer to him so that we are almost chest to chest.
I’m not sure I like the closeness between us, but I’ve agreed to this
dance, and I feel like I need to push myself to forget or at least move on
from the concert. I mean, what’s the likelihood I’ll see him again?

The music is so fucking loud I can’t hear myself think, and Christopher
trying to shout over it isn’t working. Arabella’s standing there looking fed
up and I feel for her because the social butterfly that she is, she probably
wants to be milling around the crowd in the middle of the room.
“I did what Freddie asked, but IT at the company is on the ball. I can’t
promise you they won’t find whatever was on that drive.” Talking to
Christopher, I hand Arabella the handbag sized Harrods bag containing a
MacBook loaded with the clone of my father’s company computer.
Everything they need to bring him down is in that bag, and the fact that
Bella has a death grip on it as she leans forward and kisses my cheek, does
nothing to ease the anxiety wracking through me right now.
 “You’re doing the right thing,” she says into my ear before she pulls
away.
There’s no need for her to tell me that, I already know it. All my life,
since I was eight years old, I’ve waited for this moment. To fuck my father
as hard as he fucked me up. Harder actually, because where he left me
scarred, I want to leave him buried, six feet deep in his own shit.
Freddie follows her out of the room at a discreet distance, his eyes never
leaving her. If any fucker were to try anything, they’d be shit out of luck
today.
“She knows what to do,” Christopher says with a slap to my back.
“We’re going to head off in a bit, she’s not too happy that we’re doing this
here, but Freddie was right—no one would be stupid enough to try anything
on our doorstep.”
He’s wrong. I think they’re all underestimating the snake pit they’ve
stepped in. They don’t know my father like I do, he’s ruthless. A bastard
who doesn’t care who he walks over to get what he wants. And the people
he’s working with? Well, if they’re not worse, then they’re just as bad,
which means none of us are safe. No matter who’s land we’re on.
It doesn’t take long for Freddie to find his way back to the party,
sauntering his way over to us. His eyes are scanning the place, and from his
stiff posture, it’s obvious he’s on high alert.
“I have no idea how you can stand any of this shit,” I complain.
Sighing, I take in the crowded room. The place is loud and packed, it’s one
of my most dreaded scenarios. “How do you even hear—”
I freeze the moment I see her. My blood comes to a boiling rush in my
veins that has me stepping towards where she’s dancing with Jack. My
fucker of a cousin who I am one hundred percent sure is working with my
dad. And even when Christopher shoots out his arm to stop me, I can’t.
“Don’t do it. We need him distracted.” Stepping in front of me he halts
my angry steps. “Don’t fuck this up.”
“You’re going to let him touch her?”
“For now. I’ve got eyes on her, and Cassie can handle herself if she
needs to.” His chuckle makes me want to beat sense into him. “I don’t want
her to have to, but if that’s what she wants…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He doesn’t reply. Narrowing his stare on her and Jack, he monitors them
from where he’s standing. Now it’s not just Jack I want to kick the shit out
of, it’s him too.
I know she’s capable of handling herself. With her father owning one of
the biggest security firms in Europe, it’s a certainty. But there is no way I
can stand here and watch her with him, not when I’ve done everything I can
to keep myself away. Last week was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone after
her. But her tears and the way she looked at me, like she finally saw me.
Like a cruel goddess, her eyes meet mine. The instant she sees me her
hands are dropping from Jack’s shoulders, pushing herself away from him.
And anger claws at my throat and my chest as he keeps pulling her back to
him, holding her to him like she’s his.
Cassandra is not his. She will never be his, and I’ll make sure of it, if I
have to.
Watching her isn’t anything new to me. I can’t help it, when she’s
around all I see is her. Fuck, it doesn’t even matter if she’s right in front of
me, or just in the same room, or nowhere near—all I see is Cassie, and I
hate it.
I hate every ounce of my control she’s bastardised with the soft laugh
and kind smiles she charms people with. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve
ever seen, and I’ve seen many. I’ve been up close with some of the most
incredible paintings in the world, and not one of them manages to make me
feel all the things she does.
It’s foolish, but when I look at her, I don’t see the pretty girl others do;
the way her eyes widen as she takes everything in, I know that she’s
desperate for something more. She tugs on the lengths of her hair and bites
down on her lips like she just wants to feel something deep. I want that too,
so fucking bad. And although looking at her isn’t enough, although
watching her doesn’t scratch my need in the slightest. I know that she’s
better off, if I stay away. But knowing something, doesn’t make it easy to
do it.
“Fucking relax!” Christopher grits when I step around him, because I’m
not watching this bullshit anymore. His eyes meet mine in warning, and I
really couldn’t give two fucks about all the threats he’s made about staying
away from her.
“She’s handled herself.” Spitting my fury at him, I watch her as she
watches me, and I wonder if she realises how badly she’s fucked me. “Now,
you can handle him, or I’ll do it.”
 “What fucking part of don’t fuck this up don’t you understand?” His
growl is irate, but before I have a chance to tell him where to shove his
question, he is already moving.
Without being spoken to, Freddie automatically backs him and whilst I
don’t take my eyes off Cassie, I’m aware of the crowd parting ahead of us.
Disgust roils in the pit of my stomach at the way Jack is still pawing at her.
And it pisses me off that she doesn’t just nut him one in the jewels or
something.
Jack Breckenridge is the lowest of the low. A wrong people pleaser, and
he has no business touching her. No right to talk to her. I should break each
of his fingers off and pull out his tongue.
One day.
Soon.
Ready to drag her away myself, I bite down on my lip trying to release
some of my pent up frustration in any possible way, but it’s not enough, not
even when the metallic tang of blood coats my tongue and my hands clench
so tight that my knuckles threaten to pop.
They are quick to deal with the situation. Christopher’s got her away
from Jack as Freddie stalks him outside. His hands are in the air and the
fucker is looking at me with a smirk. He’s goading me, and I know I should
walk away from both him and Cassie. But there’s too much anger roiling
inside me and if I don’t let it out, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
The crowd is closing in and I am suffocating with rage. I can’t be here,
not while she’s looking at me like I’m everything she’s ever wanted and
she’s desperate to have me in her grasp. Those golden-brown eyes stuck on
me like she’s the fucking sun and I’m in her orbit.
Not today, and not after she’s had her hands on the dregs of society. I’ve
wanted Cassandra Sinclair since the moment I first really saw her. Sitting in
her father’s office as he listed all the reasons I should work for him, all the
ways he and I could bring my father down, I watched her run around their
garden with her friend.
It wasn’t the first time I’d laid eyes on her, but it was the first time I’d
heard her real laugh, and fuck, it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever
heard. It wasn’t the usual reined-in, superficial chuckle from the lady she
painted herself to be, for the first time, her laugh sounded like it came from
some other place than her head. It wasn’t all airs and graces; it was clumsy.
Loose, and so beautiful. The kind of sound that makes you want to smile.
Realising that she wasn’t some stuck-up rich girl with self-importance
issues, I couldn’t bring myself to look away.
Not right now though, because although I have no right to feel all this
disgust and disappointment—I do. And Jack knows how it’s eating me up
inside.
Jack knows how I operate. All the things that push my buttons and make
me tick. Thing is, he’s underestimating how fucked I am over Cassandra.
And that makes him as stupid as ever.
I push through the crowd keeping tabs on the top of Freddie’s head, so I
don’t lose them. With every step my heart gongs harder in my chest and the
only thing keeping me from running to my poisonous little flower, is the
anger curling my fists at my sides.
Freddie’s about to let the fucker go when I reach them, and I can tell
that it’s not something he wants to do either. I know him well enough to
know that in his head he’s thinking of all the ways he can make Jack regret
putting his hands on Cassie.
In my head I’m breaking all his fucking fingers. I’m choking every last
breath out of him as I crush his throat.
Looking back at me as he guides my cousin to the front doors, Freddie
shakes his head. I know what he’s saying, but I can’t bring myself to care
about anything other than the fact that Jack is sniffing around Cassie.
Not moving my eyes from where he’s standing, his eyes flitting between
Freddie and me, I take purposeful steps towards them. The entire time my
stomach is twisting with how fucking pissed I am about him being here.
“Stay away from her,” I hiss at him, my shoulder only barely missing
his when I stop beside him.
A scene isn’t something we can afford to make in front of all the people
here, but I need to make it plenty clear what I’ll do to him if he so much as
looks in Cassandra’s direction again. I’m fully aware he can’t help it, fuck, I
can’t. But his intentions and mine are very different on all fronts.
“This isn’t the office, Fairfax. You ca—” He starts with a sneer and
before he can finish, I close my hand around his throat.
He’s right, this isn’t the office. I don’t have to rein myself in here. I
don’t have grit my teeth and bear him for the sake of the family business
and maintaining a clean appearance in front of the other traders.
My intention is to put fear into Jack, but then I see her. She’s blurry in
the background, but her tall frame and light golden hair are unmistakable.
The way my heart is so desperate to break free of my chest is making me
shake. And I can only hope that he doesn’t mistake it for weakness.
“Fuck!” Freddie grits, closing in on Jack and me as Cassie and her
friend start towards us, Christopher following behind.
“You go near her again, and I’ll fucking end you.” Pressing my thumb
to his jugular, I relish the way his pulse hammers and his face pales further.
“This isn’t the office, Jack.”
“Drop, Leo!” Freddie yanks hard on Jack’s T-shirt, pulling him out of
my grip. “Run along, pup,” teasing, he pushes Jack away from me, towards
the stairs.
It’s obvious Jack’s about to fuck off, but when he spots Cassie, he turns
back to me and grins. It’s cold and jarring as he spits, “You have no idea
who you’re fucking with.”
A laugh rips from Freddie, and something about the unfazed look Jack
gives him irks me. He doesn’t feel threatened at all, and as if to solidify my
thought, he makes a show of approaching Cassie and says loudly, “Thanks
for the dance, sweet cheeks. I’ll be seeing you around.”
Over my dead body, I tell myself, barely able to keep from making good
on my promise. Studying her reaction, I can’t make out whether or not she
wants to see him again. I want to say that she’s shunning him, but her
composed exterior gives nothing away.
That only pisses me off more. I want to fucking shake her and tell her
how dangerous he is.
Freddie steps in front of me as I move forwards, I know he’s trying to
stop things from escalating, but that’s not who he is. Freddie is the first
person to act and then think, and when Jack takes a step closer to his cousin,
he lunges at them, his foot cracking on the loose stone floor as he slams his
hand into Jack’s shoulder. “Get! Tsss…”
Sauntering away, Jack gives him the middle finger, grinning at Cassie
and her friend. My stomach twists at the way she follows him with her big
doll eyes, and the more I watch her, the more I can’t bear the aching pull
that makes it impossible for me to walk away.
Every time I see her it gets stronger and more difficult to ignore. It gets
harder to fight my need to reach out and touch her again, this time feeling
her skin. I want to run my thumb across those plump lips of hers and press
it between them, so I know what it feels like to be inside her in some way.
Shit, what’s happening to me?
 “Stay away, Leo.” Christopher stops beside me on his way out.
“Protect her better, then.” He looks at me, anger brimming in his eyes,
and honestly, I couldn’t give two fucks as her head turns to me. Her eyes
narrow on mine and she starts to close the space between us.
I watch the way her long legs eat up the small distance. The grey knit of
her dress rides up her curves and God, I want to snatch her away from here.
But Christopher is right—I need to stay way.
With a groan I look away and force myself to leave. I can’t help but
smile when she asks Christopher, “Who’s that?”
There’s no reply from him and fully expecting her to drop her question,
my heart drops to my belly when she presses, “Christopher?”
“Oooo,” Freddie sings, “do you have a little crush, Princess?”
“Fuck you, arsehole.” A loud thwack sounds behind me followed by a
louder groan, “Oi! That fucking hurt, Cass. I need all the brain cells in
here.”
“Really? I didn’t realise you had any at all.”
Resisting the urge to look back, I get into my Maserati. Sinking into the
red buttery leather as I smile to myself.
“Of all the fucking stupid things you could do.” My brother sighs in the
passenger seat. “Leo…”
“You worry about you, Kit.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay well away from her.”
I’m trying, but I have no idea how much longer I can fight myself.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 4

LEO

I look at the time on the Breguet adorning my wrist—my mother

is late, again. I’ve been sitting at the Café at the National
Gallery, waiting almost an hour for her to take a break from the
project she’s currently working on. They’ve closed five of the main rooms
for conservation, and she’s been living at the gallery night and day, except
when she’s lecturing.
“I’m so sorry!” Squeezing my shoulders from behind, she kisses the top
of my head, like I’m still the little boy she used to bring to work with her.
“It’s hectic up there, and as always we’re running behind.”
“It’s okay.” Getting up, I pull the chair out for her before signalling to
one of the café staff to bring her the tea and slice of her favourite coffee and
walnut cake that I’ve already pre-ordered. “Nan called, she said you haven’t
picked up any of her calls. She’s upset that the only way she knows you’re
alive is because she saw you on the news talking about work.”
“I’ve been meaning to call…” she pauses as one of the girls puts her
cake and tea in front of her.
“Would you like another?” the waitress asks, nodding at my empty
coffee cup.
I shake my head, and she gives me a disappointed smile before walking
away.
“Let me guess, another offering to your good looks?” My mum says,
nodding at the brownie in front of me, before she has a forkful of her cake.
 I push the plate with the super gooey square on it farther away and she
laughs. “Seems like you did a great job with me, after all.”
“I did my best.” Her face lights up wonkily. “So, Kit says you’re both
going to the party this weekend?”
“We are, but only because it has to do with work.” My heart begins to
race at the barefaced lie I’m telling her. Although I’m sounding out some
potential clients, Cassandra Sinclair is the real reason I’m going. “I hate
those things.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
“Arabella’s been stressing over it for months.” I pour us both a glass of
water.
“Ah, Arabella…” she hums. “It’s her grandfather’s birthday, eighty is a
big one.”
The smile she offers me is tinged with hurt, and I feel for her. I hate that
her divorce from my father distanced her from her friends.
Silence grows between us and as the awkwardness of my wordless pity
starts to settle, Mum clears her throat. Like she’s skimming the thickness
from the air surrounding us, she changes the subject. “I heard she and
Christopher are engaged?”
“Yeah, she’s looking at venues. Kit said that they were both going to
look at a chateau in Bordeaux and a little riverside greenhouse by Lake
Como. She’s excited.”
“I would’ve thought she would take Christopher seeing as he’s the
groom?” Mum quirks an eyebrow as she eats the last of her cake.
“It’s Kit, he’s going to be involved. They’re like Thing One and Thing
Two.”
Lighting up, her face shines with a fondness that spans years. With the
way she’s staring into the space between us, it feels like she’s reliving all
the times she used to watch Arabella and I run around the park or my
grandmother’s garden.
When she finishes her coffee, she drinks her glass of water and gets up.
It’s another quick catch-up, but at least I know that she’s okay. She doesn’t
look tired or overworked, which is always a plus. In fact, she seems in great
spirits.
“Are you all right about the party? The Gladstones are your friends
too.”
 “Leo, when your father and I divorced, I knew that there would be times
when our friends would choose his company over mine.” Sighing, she leads
us up the steps to the gallery. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened, and it
won’t be the last.”
“I know, it’s just that normally we avoid these fanfares and do our own
thing.” I walk her through the busy halls and rooms teeming with tourists.
Managing to avoid bumping into most of them as they walk around in a
culture induced stupor, I wait for her to say something.
The longer she takes to say anything, the worse I feel about going this
weekend. When we get to the doors of the education centre, she stops and
turns to me. Holding her silence for a bit, she looks me up and down, taking
me in like it’s the last time she’ll ever see me.
“We’ve done something today, and now I need to get back to work.”
She kisses my cheek with her hands tightening on my shoulders as she
balances on the tips of her toes, and when she pulls away there’s worry
clouding her green eyes. “Listen, I know Francis is looking out for you, but
be careful. Don’t get caught in the middle of something that has nothing to
do with you. Leave old men to old man battles.”
“Mum…”
“Leo, Maxwell’s death is not your fault.”
Her words should ease the constant weight on my shoulders. They
should pacify the guilt that tightens my chest every second of the day.
“A man is dead for no other reason than to send a message.”
“Max knew what Francis is involved in…what he does.”
“And so do I.” I tell her, injecting as much softness into my stern tone
as possible.
I don’t expect her to understand or know my reasons. Not many people
do, apart from Francis. And now that Jack has his sights set on his daughter,
I can’t simply walk away.
I already couldn’t get her out of my head, but now…since I held her, I
want her so bad that she’s in everything around me.
“This isn’t about Max or your father, is it?” she asks with her brows
drawn together. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
“What look?” I do a bad job at hiding the truth behind my laughter.
“The one you got when Arabella turned up.”
“Arabella and I are friends. We’ve always been friends.” We’ve had this
conversation about Bella before, so I add, “We’re only ever going to be
friends because, well, she’s getting married and I’m not interested in her in
that way.”
She’s not Cassandra Sinclair.
Therein lies the problem lately. I can’t shake her off, and I can’t stand
that she’s taking my self-control from me without even knowing it. The
thought of her is enough to dry my lips to the point they feel cracked and
painful.
I want to taste her. To drink her in.
Shit, this isn’t good.
My eyes dart to the familiar laugh coming from the Rubens room and
everything in me screams go!
Run. Get out of here!
“I really don’t understand why you like this room so much.”
“It’s not the room, dipshit.” Laughing, Cassandra looks away from her
friend—the one that was at the party last month—and stares up at the
painting depicting a drunken Silenus being supported by Satyrs. “It’s the
colours. They’re rich and stark next to one another, but the way he uses
light and shadow in the same rich tones to blend it all, it’s beautiful and—”
“Stop looking at it like that, I’m getting a little worried. That’s not even
Rubens.”
“Van Dyck was greatly influenced by him, though.” The way Cassie
rolls her eyes is cute enough that it has me kneading my lip between my
teeth. She’s just so fucking gorgeous that in a room full of masterpieces, she
outdoes them all. “Some people think that Rubens reworked the painting.”
“After it was ripped off from his own.”
“Actually, it’s called a transposition.” Cassandra sticks her tongue out at
her friend.
For a moment I can’t catch my breath, her smile and her laugh are like
the best kind of music. Even from a distance they have the ability to make
the world fade around me.
Unable to look away, I take in the way her hair is bunched at her crown
in a long, thick ponytail that has me bunching my hands at my sides. I want
to know what those strands would feel like running through my fingers or
wrapped around my fist. What they would feel like cutting into my skin.
I slip my hands in the back pockets of my black jeans and look up to
find my mother glancing between me and Cassie. And I wonder if she’s
figured out why I’ve come to see her at work lately.
 Mum grabs onto the lapels of my leather jacket as she looks up at me
scornfully, “Of all the girls in this world. Leo! Why her?”
“Her?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m your mother, I know a crush when I see
one.” She slaps her hand on my chest and then bunches the hoodie I’m
wearing underneath in her fist. “She’s dangerous.”
“I know.” I’m fully aware of all the things Cassie represents, but still…
The girl is a Buttercup, beautiful to look at but poisonous when it gets
inside you.
I feel her poison spread already, in my chest…my head…everywhere.
I need to get her out of my system, to flush her out. Somehow. I need to
do it before it’s too late.
I know that, but I don’t know if I can. Or if I want to.
“I’m going to let you get back to work.” Kissing my mother’s forehead,
I try to pacify her worry.
“Okay,” pouting she releases my jacket as she says, “I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you too.”
Walking backwards away from her I wave my goodbye, turning when I
bump into one of the many visitors. And as I walk away, she calls, “Stay
away from little girls, Leo!”
Shaking my head, I continue towards the exit. I’m almost past it when I
hear her voice.
“Hey!”
I stop abruptly and almost turn to look at her. Cassie’s voice has this
velvety depth to it that even when it’s a loud yell, it’s still soft and luring.
Do not look back, I tell myself as I force my feet to move, but it’s too
late. Her fingertips tap my shoulder as I reach the top of the stairs to the
street. The only thing I can do is shake her off and go.
“Hey! Stop!” People are stopping to stare at us, but I continue down the
steps.
“Cass, it’s clearly not him.” I hear her friend tell her.
When I reach the bottom, I can’t help but look up and she’s standing
there looking at me with confusion and irritation scrunching her face.
It freezes me to the concrete beneath my feet and fuck me, I can’t move
even as she’s getting closer to me.
Her long, lean legs look lithe in her painted on leather trousers and her
suede Chelsea boots. Her coat blusters behind her in the wind that sticks her
top to her curves.
I can’t help but imagine all the ways I want to fuck her. All the ways I
could mark her body as I make it mine. I want to bite her, and lick her, kiss
her and eat her. I want every part of me inside every part of her.
My entire body is buzzing with how close she’s getting and how much I
want her.
Selfish bastard!
When she stops in front of me, her friend comes bouncing behind her.
I should turn around and walk away, but I can’t. The longer we stand
here, frozen, looking at each other, the more violently her chest heaves. And
it’s taking everything in me not to grab at her rounded hips and pull her to
me.
Just one more touch…a little taste.
Imagining how sweet she must taste has me licking my lips. When she
mirrors my action, I wonder if she’s having the same fanciful thought about
me. And when she visibly swallows, God, like an idiot I take a step closer
to her. With my heart banging loudly in my chest I can’t hear any of my
reasoning thoughts.
“Come on, Cass, I know it’s only Tuesday, but it’s church!” Her friend
whines from behind her. When I look up at her, her eyes are boring into me
like she’s trying to assess me.
Church. I know that’s what they call the National Gallery, I’ve heard
them talking about it when I’ve been locked away with her father in his
office at their house.
So close and yet so far.
It feels weird to know so much about a girl I’ve only seen from a
distance, measured or not. It feels wrong to know more about her than she
knows about herself. It feels stupid to want her in this desperate way. I’ve
never wanted anyone the way I want Cassandra Sinclair, and no one has had
disaster stamped on them like she does.
Cassandra looks back at her friend and then back at me. Sucking that
plump lower lip. I want to bite into her mouth, she takes another step closer
and my body tightens on the verge of painful.
Her eyes dart between mine and she asks, “Who are you?”
Who am I?
An idiot, apparently.
 Another gust hits and the way she’s swiping the stray hair from her face
reminds me of the same way she did it when she was dancing with my
arsehole of a cousin.
My blood boils in all the wrong, curdling ways as I recall the way he
had his hands on her. The way their bodies were so close, flush to each
other as they danced at Freddie’s party.
For the last three weeks every time I’ve heard her voice I’ve done
nothing but think of the two of them and of all the ways I still want to beat
the shit out of Jack for going near her.
Right now, I want to sit on the steps behind her and bend her over my
lap so I can smack some sense into her. She has no idea who she’s playing
with. Jack’s a snake. His only loyalty is to himself.
Her hand reaches for me and before she touches me and obliterates the
scrap that’s left of my self-control, I pull away.
I turn around and walk away as fast as I can before I lose it all together.
Every step is punctuated with the need to turn back, grab her and fucking
devour her. My feelings are a fucking jumbled mess. I want to fuck her,
punish her for being so naïve, and protect her from all the shit she doesn’t
know.
I feel her watch me walk up the side of the building, and when I get to
my bike and put my helmet on, it feels like I can relax. Turns out schooling
your features is like exercise, it leaves your facial muscles achy.
Getting on my Ninja, I go. I let the sound of the engine drown out my
thoughts. I pretend that she really is just another girl. I pretend that she
means nothing. That she is no one.
Of course, I’m lying, and as with all lies, the relief they bring is
momentary. It only lasts long enough for me to get away from her. My
Buttercup.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 5

CASSANDRA

T aking a deep breath so I don’t go off on a tangent of

unladylike curses at the idiot who almost takes me out, I
continue crossing the busy West London road. I’m supposed
to be at a lecture, that’s where Christopher dropped me off under an hour
ago. But my head is all over the place for me to be able to focus on work.
Honestly, I can’t even hear myself think, I’m struggling with it lately.
All I can hear is his voice on repeat. The same words again and again
because he’s barely said shit to me and I’m incapable of thinking about
anything or anyone apart from him.
Never in my life have I been this stupidly absorbed outside of my love
of art. I’m not even sure if he likes me, but the way he looks at me…it
makes me forget myself. Like nothing exists outside of him. He looks at me
like he knows me. Like he’s always seen me, and there is something about
him that’s so familiar, and yet I can’t place.
It’s frustrating, that and the fact that every time our eyes meet or we’re
in close proximity, he can’t seem to get away fast enough. I don’t get it. It’s
like he can’t stand me.
But why?
Why does he look at me like he could eat me up, but he acts like—I
don’t know—I’m nothing? Inconsequential, when he feels anything but that
to me.
Trying to shake off that eerie feeling of being watched, I do a three-
sixty, taking a good look around me as I reach the bottom of the church
steps.
It’s a sinister feeling, and with the cold shadow of the large limestone
building and the palpable presence of history and peace. It’s overwhelming.
History and peace shouldn’t be able to co-exist in one place. If there is
anything that is more certain than the concrete I am standing on, it’s that
history is not made of peace. No, it’s made by cruel wars and precious
blood spilt.
We are all a product of bloodshed. The peacemakers, the warmongers
and everyone else in between. Our future has been built on blood soaked
earth.
Shaking off the goose bumps that cover my skin, I look up to find Fleur
is already pacing outside the double height and width mahogany doors of
the old catholic church. The architecture is typical neo-classical, Italian
baroque, it is a testament to Gribble’s eye for detail.
She pauses when she realises I’m procrastinating with my steps. Putting
one foot and then the other on every step before I take the next one up.
“You’re late!” she nags, scowling at me. “It’s cold and it’s going to rain.
All the good light is gone!”
Of course she’s upset about not having enough light to sketch her
favourite Madonna.
“I’m sorry.” I sound genuinely remorseful, more so than I feel, as I take
the next step up with the same slowness as before. “Christopher insisted on
dropping me off this morning, it’s six months since Grandad…” My voice
dries in my throat and I wish that the holy ground we’re on was enough to
soothe the pain in my chest. “Anyway, Mum took Nan to the cemetery and
everyone is feeling it. You know what Christopher’s like; he works through
his feelings by making sure everyone else is okay.”
“I can’t begrudge you now,” she gives me her non-resting bitch face, but
then it softens like chocolate in the sun. “But seriously, are you all right and
Penny…your nan?”
I take a moment to reply as we walk through the entrance to the vast
building. It’s empty and silent.
“They’re holding up. These have felt like the longest months ever, and
some days feel like they’re never going to end, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.” A pained grimace twists her face. “It’s been almost four
years since my mum, you know, and I still miss her. It’s a good thing I have
yours. Penny’s my saving grace, and I swear your dad keeps mine in line.”
 Although she’s chuckling, it sounds put on. Despite all her bravado, I
am fully aware of the sadness Fleur carries around with her. It feels at odds
with this place.
The London Oratory is one of the most beautiful architectural
masterpieces I have ever been in. As we walk down the central aisle, I have
no choice but to take it all in all over again, like it’s my first time here.
There is something about this building that usually feels like
Switzerland. It is bathed in equal parts peace and torment. It is equal parts
sanctimonious and righteous. It is heaven and hell and the purgatory in
between.
Light shines through the stained-glass windows and veils the dark wood
panelling, marble pillars and alabaster statues in a thin gauzy film that
makes it all look ethereal. It’s pretty in an unexpected way.
“So, have you asked Christopher about Mr. A-hole?” she whispers.
The mention of him is enough to make my heart beat in my chest, like
all of a sudden it’s found a new lease of life. Racing nonsensically for a
complete stranger that somehow feels familiar, like déjà vu.
“Stop calling him that, and don’t do it in a church for God’s sake.”
“You just took the Lord’s name in vain, so we’re even. Now he’s got
potluck on who to strike. But anyway, stop changing the subject.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, and you know it. I mean, who just walks off like that?” she
argues, huffing as she settles for one of the pews close to the front.
“I don’t know, I just…you saw him. There’s something about him that
gets me right here,” I wrap my arm around my belly, “and here.” Wrapping
my other arm around my chest I swallow down the inexplicable yearning
pulsing inside. The whole time I’m trying to come to grips with how the
mere thought of him is enough to have my blood pounding in my veins and
butterflies fluttering in my chest. I always thought that butterflies belonged
in your tummy, but right now my chest feels like a cage bursting with them.
“I don’t get it, Fleur, no one has ever made me feel like this before. He
looks at me and it’s like he could bring me to life with a quirk of his lips. It
feels like he knows me, and I know it’s impossible because I swear if I’d
seen him before…I…”
“You?” Looking at me like I’m certifiably insane, she fixes me with her
wide stare.
 “How can I have no idea who he is and feel this way? How is it possible
for Christopher to know him and for me not to have a freaking clue? The
way they were talking at Freddie’s party and the way they acted with one
another…”
“Have you asked Christopher who he is?” Getting her sketchbook and
charcoals out, she spreads her elbows to make sure she’s got enough room
to sketch.
“Is it silly that I’m nervous about asking him?”
“Depends on why you’re nervous.” She puts her bright red cashmere
beret into her custom handbag and stows it beneath her seat.
“Because nobody has ever made me feel the way he does.”
“And that is?” she asks without looking at me, her eyes flit between the
angel overhanging one of the pillars and her paper.
“Seen. Is that stupid?”
“Honestly?”
“Duh…”
“Firstly, it’s not stupid. Everyone wants to be seen by someone, I totally
understand that. But, you are seen, Cass. I see you…everybody sees you, I
mean you’re pretty hard to miss and also, he’s just a nameless stranger
which brings me to…” She looks over at me, her tongue pinched between
her teeth and with concentration drawing her face. “If he sees you, then why
hasn’t he given you something about him to hold on to? He’s had ample
opportunity to introduce himself to you, but he’s just been a di—he’s been
an A-hole about it.”
“I know it sounds silly, but something inside me just knows he isn’t.”
“That something inside you is blatantly lying.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Why haven’t you asked Christopher or even Freddie about him?”
Looking at me sternly, she doesn’t give me time to answer her back.
“Maybe you’re scared that they’ll tell you the opposite of what you want to
hear.” Her shrug is followed with a twist of her features before she returns
to her drawing and leaves me with too much food for thought and bitterness
swilling in my chest.
I sit in the shadow beside her taking in the details of the carvings. Even
in the hidden shadow there is so much light. Too much light for a wintery
day.
 My eyes get caught in the glare of the light streaming in and the slight
green tinge makes me think of his eyes. My ears recall the sound of his
voice and with the holy air around me, it feels like too much. The organist
is rehearsing the hymnal mass and the organ notes clash with his rumble in
my eardrums like discordant cymbals.
I’m fidgeting and I can tell that Fleur is about ready to bite my head off.
Before I know it, I’m rubbing life back into my painfully numb arm. As I’m
nursing it from my friend’s warning elbow, I can’t help the feeling that I’m
being watched again. My eyes search the shadows of the building, it’s
something my father has always taught me to do.
Your gut never lies, Princess. If something feels off, never ignore it.
This place doesn’t feel like Switzerland today. It doesn’t feel easy and
welcoming. Today it feels like every saint and martyr has turned their hard
gaze on me. Like they are judging me for a sin I have no idea I’ve
committed or am yet to commit.
Maybe it’s my thoughts of him. The way the memory of his voice and
his eyes make my insides strain in a way that distracts my body and mind
from the monotony that has come to live in them.
This stranger has overruled my senses with his stare and barely-there
touch. His voice has muted every other sound I have ever heard and twisted
them so that I am constantly trying to find some sort of similarity between
them.
Still searching every statue and pillar, my eyes flit over to where the
priest, is making his way out of one of the intricate wooden doors to the
side of the altar. He’s a tall man, and ever since I was a child, I’ve found
him intimidating, with his dark eyes and cool demeanour.
Studying me for a moment his eyes narrow before he abruptly turns
back to the doors he just came out of and just as I’m about to look away I
catch the smallest glimpse of the last person I expected to see today.
My heart rampages wildly in my chest pounding all the air from my
lungs. I don’t think he sees me at first because whatever he and Father
Byrne are discussing seems pressing. Their lips are moving in hushed haste
as their heads shake, their hands gesture and as his messily coiffed hair falls
in front of his eyes, I brush my forehead as though I’m pushing the hair
from his eyes.
I can’t see their colour, but they look wild and wide in their deep-set
furrow. When they meet mine a momentary, fleeting scowl passes his face.
But then his eyes lift with his brow as a closed lip smirk lightens his
arresting features.
“Were you praying for him or something?”
My laugh dries in my throat, my chest aching like a fire is lit inside it
and my belly flips and turns like gravity has ceased to exist. I’m bobbing
along in the thick air.
Fleur looks between us, the movement of her head blurring my
peripheral vision.
“Why the hell is he everywhere?” she hisses so quietly that her lips
barely move.
My first instinct is to get up and go to him, but I can’t get my body to
operate properly. I’m too caught up in trying to get the dark green of his
eyes right in my mind and the depth of his voice. My head is a jumble of
thoughts that make it impossible for me to think of anything rational.
When his eyes flit between me and the priest, I know I should look
away, but I just can’t. It’s something that’s equally as infuriating as it is
intriguing.
As the church doors creak open behind us and the distant sound of
footsteps become louder, getting closer, my mystery guy and the priest start
to move towards us.
“Oh great, what’s he doing?” Fleur moans as she pokes my thigh with
her sharp, pointy nail and before I can stop myself, I’m getting up from my
seat while I watch them both approach us with wary glances.
“We should go,” I tell her as unease wrings my insides.
“What? Are you for real?” Fleur grits as her loose sketches fall from the
pad on her lap.
“Something doesn’t feel right.” Falling to my knees, I help her pick
them up and the entire time I’m scrambling my heart is in overdrive. My
chest is so congested—with this sense of dread and all the freaking
butterflies that refuse to settle—that it hurts. It burns all the way down to
the pit of my stomach like heartburn.
I collect the scattered papers quickly and messily before I hand them to
Fleur who is shoving her things into her handbag. “Have you lost your
flipping mind?”
“Maybe.” I’m so desperately lost in my task that it takes me a while to
register the scuffed and worn black boots at the edge of my vision.
 They look used and abused, but they have a clean shine and softness to
them. The leather is too smooth all round for the scuffs to be from wear.
When I look up my tongue lies heavy in my mouth, glued behind my
straight teeth. Blinking once. Twice, and one more time just to make sure
that he really is standing right here, in front of me, I take a deep breath.
Maybe you have lost your mind. I think to myself, trying to sort through
all the things going on inside and outside of me.
Unlike in all my thoughts of him, his face twists into a scowl and his
jaw clenches like he’s angry. I can’t think of a reason for him to be mad
with me, but that doesn’t stop me from analysing the nostril flaring look
he’s giving me as I remain plastered to the floor on my knees, looking up at
him.
I can barely catch my breath and I have no idea if it’s because of him or
this knot in my gut.
Jesus! Chills course through me even as every inch of my skin feels
seared by his gaze.
“Get up,” gritting gruffly, he grasps the tops of my arms and hoists me
to my feet.
“Oi!” Fleur jumps from her seat, trying to get between us.
“What are you doing here?” Shaking me a little with every word he
ignores her.
I swear there’s a hint of annoyance and antipathy in his deep voice. My
breath catches in my throat with the momentum of his action. It jolts me
into lucidity.
“Let go.” Yanking myself from his grip, I stumble back a few steps. The
way he’s touching me and the way his words are biting and scornful have
my insides shaking and vibrating with indignation.
How dare he!
Anger burns through me, eradicating the chill, and I have to bunch my
hands at my sides to keep from throttling him with my frustration.
Softening, his face relaxes a bit as he bends down to gather the rest of
the papers on the floor and my bag. He does it quickly and effortlessly as I
continue watching him, trying to determine what his attitude means and
how it affects me.
He’s been an A-hole. Fleur’s words hiss in my ears, but my curiosity and
intrigue get the better of me. Yeah, I’m pissed at him, but I’m also desperate
to know who he is and why he turns me inside out the way he does. Why
he’s acting like he owns me.
My stomach tightens at that thought. Something inside me stirring
wildly as I take in the way his fingers curl around Fleur’s sketches, and I
can’t help but wonder what his touch would feel like directly on my skin.
Our gazes clash and as he stands, the softness in his disappears, setting
his eyes into a deep, confused furrow.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I have no idea what he means by that. This is an open place of worship
and he has no right to tell me whether I should be here or not.
“Why?” A laugh rips out of my mouth, but it sounds manic even to me.
“Because.”
“Oooookay, listen up, twat face! I don’t know who you think you are,
but you don’t own—” Fleur’s words dry up as she looks towards the
creaking doors again.
When I follow her line of sight, I do a double take before confusion sets
in and mixes with my already puzzled thoughts.
My father, Christopher and Freddie are standing at the top of the aisle,
the three of them look about ready to blow a fuse. Christopher’s dark grey
suit jacket is gone, his sleeves are rolled up his forearms and as his eyes
meet mine, he shakes his head.
I have no idea if it’s disappointment or frustration, whatever it is, I don’t
like it. Slapping his back, Freddie winks at me with a crooked smile.
Nothing fazes him, and although normally his nonchalance brings me ease,
it does nothing but make my gut twist a bit more as he heads to the other
side of the church.
What’s going on?
Father Byrne has the man, I assume came in earlier, up against one of
the pillars. I have to do a double take because he’s got him nailed to the
stone, the muzzle of a sleek looking pistol pressed to his chest.
“What. The. Fuck?” Fleur breathes out, her words mirroring my
thoughts.
Dad says something to Christopher when he starts towards us, and with
a scowl at me he joins the priest and our cousin.
The atmosphere cools and even the light seems to dim. The red accents
darken to a sinister shade with the shadow, and the creamy stone pales to
morbid grey.
 “I take it back.” Fleur murmurs, taking a step back. “We should go.”
Ignoring her remark, I follow the priest to the doors of the church with
my eyes before Dad stands in front of us.
“Fleur,” he sighs with exasperation.
“Francis.”
Trying to ignore the glare he’s giving us, I watch as Father Byrne locks
the doors and then bolts them with the old brass bars at the top and bottom.
The larger one across the middle requires more effort, but he does it also.
“What are you doing here?” My father moves to block my view of the
priest and for a moment I can’t get anything out.
“I…I…”
“What, Cassandra?” He’s upset, and his soft, low tone does nothing to
hide the fact. “I’ve tried everything to keep you safe.”
His head is shaking and admittedly it takes me a while to get my head
around his statement.
To keep me safe?
“It’s my fault, I needed to clear my head and…” Fleur says carefully,
and her meekness only serves to irritate me.
“Fault? We haven’t done anything wrong.” We’re not the first people to
skip a lecture, it’s not going to ruin me or my degree.
Sighing, Dad strokes my face and then squeezes Fleur’s shoulder.
“Why’re you here? All of you?” I try to look around him, but he shifts
with me, his gaze firmly set on the man beside me.
“Leo, I need you take them back to the house.”
“Wha—” My protest dies on my tongue as his words sink in. The most
important one making me spin until I am eye to eye with him again.
Lips rolling between his teeth his gaze narrows on mine before he looks
back to my dad.
My heart stutters as his name echoes in my head.
Leo.
It sounds so right in my thoughts.
Leo.
Tightening with the need to say it, my chest aches as my lungs start to
burn with every passing second that I hold it in. And although I stiffen as he
comes closer, I am yearning to know what his touch would feel like with
nothing between us. What his breath could do to my skin.
“Make sure no one is following you, if they are, call Charles.”
 “Got it.” Leo says as he shoulders my handbag and slips the last of
Fleur’s sketches into hers.
“What’s going on?” I ask at the same time as Fleur says, “Please don’t
call my dad.”
Ignoring us both, they exchange a look that really fucking irks me.
Why don’t I know what the hell is happening when he does?
“Dad!”
“Cassie, I’ll explain later. You need to leave right now.” Ushering me
towards the back of the church, he squeezes my shoulder in what I assume
is reassurance, but I get none. “Go,” he tells me, then he turns to Leo and
he’s all business again. “You got everything?”
“Got it.” Answering my father, he hands mine and Fleur’s coats to us.
“Set up in my office and go through it.”
“It’s going to take me a while, Francis.”
“A while?”
“At least a couple of days.”
“We don’t have a couple of days!” This is one of the handful of times
I’ve seen my father’s usually calm demeanour give, and if I wasn’t already
flummoxed by everything, I’d be shocked. “Get them to the house, set up
and get as much done as you can. Understand?”
“What is going on?” Pushing through the muddle of thoughts and
feelings, I manage to ask.
It comes out a little too breathy and weak for my liking but my happy
place has been invaded, and whilst I’m excited to see this guy that I’ve non-
stop daydreamed about since the concert…I’m also confused as hell over
his exchange with my father and with the obviously violent sounds coming
from the back of the church.
My heart is racing, and I can’t find my calm or my cool.
And why is Freddie laughing so loud?
“Later, Princess.”
“No.” I grit, and the way in which his expression shifts from pacifying
to irate has my hands balling around my coat.
Taking a deep breath, his eyes flit to Leo and then to Fleur, and with a
sigh he says, “A job’s gone wrong, and right now, I need you to leave so I
can put it right.”
I don’t understand, and he knows it, because his job is protecting
important people. There’s nobody here to protect.
 Craning my head to the side, I try to look past my dad, to the back of the
church. It’s pointless, he moves to block my line of sight easily just like
before. When I look to Leo with the hope that I’ll find a clearer answer
there, all I find is muddy green eyes and lips that should be too plump for a
man.
“Let’s go.” Leo says as he holds one of the double doors at the back of
the nave open.
He waits for Fleur to go past him, his face impassive as she gives him a
dirty look that screams all the obscenities she wants to spew at him. Then
his hand is on my lower back, and even with all the time I’ve spent wishing
to feel the weight of his touch, I can’t quite absorb it the way I want to.
“Cassie?” My father calls from behind us, when I look at him, he
smiles, and says, “I love you.”
I want to smile back, because that’s the dad I know. Soft, gentle and
nothing like the man I’ve just met. But I can’t because the man I’m looking
at right now, is as good as a liar.
The hand on my lower back urges me farther into the dark corridor
that’s lined with doors and various religious paintings and relics.
Leo’s hand flexes on my back as we stride down the hallway and with
his fingertips pressing into the curve of my spine, I can’t control the heat
that usurps me.
“Keep moving. Don’t stop.” He says calmly through the icy hardness of
his voice. “We need to get you out of here, Buttercup.”
With my adrenaline buzzing inside me, I’m shaking, and my breathing
is erratic. I think I’m scared, but I don’t feel it. Oddly, the only thing I feel
is awareness.
I’m aware of Leo. Very much aware of how easily he distracts me, and
also, I’m fully aware that this isn’t just a job gone wrong.
“Buttercup.” Looking up at him as I repeat the name he called me again,
I find him smiling and for just a fraction of a second, I can breathe a little
better.
“Leo?” I murmur in a haze. I have no control over what’s coming out of
my mouth. No control over what my body is doing.
“That’s my name.” Singing through gritted teeth he shifts his eyes from
me.
“Seriously, I’m shitting myself, now is not the time for a powwow. Get
to know each other when I’m not fucking about to have a fucking
aneurysm!”
My pace slows as I reach for his arm, my hand slips down it until it
finds his bigger, stronger one. Even through the layers of his clothes, I can
feel how hard and deceptively bulky his arm is.
Squeezing my hand as my fingers twine around his, he steps slows
down to keep up with me, rather than dragging me along behind him, he’s
holding me to his side. Eyes assessing me as he guides me to the back of the
building. I have to force my wits so I don’t fall over my own feet with the
way his warmth is sucking me in and how he feels this close. For the first
time it doesn’t feel like he’s trying to get away from me.
Turning the corner both Fleur and I jump as the door at the top of the
corridor slams open. We’re hustling and I’m doing my best to keep up with
Leo, but as I pull Fleur along behind us, her legs can barely keep up with
mine.
Slamming the emergency exit open, Leo holds me steady as we stumble
out to the empty car park at the back of the church. Leading us to a sleek,
black car that looks like something Christopher would drool over, he makes
quick work of getting Fleur in and throwing our things in the back with her
before helping me into the front seat.
“I can do it!” I snap at him when he tries to help buckle me in too.
“Hurry up!” He snaps back and with rehearsed speed he rounds the
front of the car. The bright red leather is buttery and warm as I reluctantly
melt into it watching Leo slide in with far too much grace for someone
that’s rushing.
When he looks at me all I can think is Holy, shit! His wild smile is
dangerous, it fires up all the butterflies in my chest, making them flutter
with a ferocious need that has me wanting to jump him right here and now.
The adrenaline and excitement from this turn of events is ripping through
me with heated vigour that burns my veins and turns up my thoughts to a
deafening frequency.
I’m trying to rationalise everything in my head the whole fast drive to
my house. The fact he doesn’t ask for directions or use a satnav, doesn’t
escape me, but then I remember my father told him to take us to the house.
He’s been there already and knowing that infuriates me. I only just
found out his name, and yet he’s on a first name basis with my father?
The gate opens the minute we pull up and before the engine turns off
we’re being rushed by security and ushered inside the house.
 I can barely see anything, but as I look around for Leo, I see him
slipping inside my father’s office with a large satchel briefcase in his hand.
His eyes meet mine for one breath-taking moment and then he closes
the door, and I am so tempted to let myself get herded into the kitchen with
Fleur, but I can’t just let him disappear again, not when everything inside
me tells me that I need to know what the hell is going on and how he fits
into it.
“Cassie!” Taking no notice of Fleur, I run down to the office door, and
just as I’m about to fling the door open, I fall straight into Leo.
“What the—” he begins, but before he can finish, I ask, “Why are you
here?”
There’s a silent pause where my galloping heart seems like the only
sound between us, and as the heat of his hands penetrates my clothes, the
air begins to buzz as it distorts my stampeding heartbeat.
Unable to speak through the dryness in my mouth, all I can do is look at
him. And boy, his eyes are so dark that they remind me of the verdant
forests around Heavers Hall at midnight.
At this point I’m not sure of whether I have butterflies, moths or
dragonflies fluttering around in my tummy, all I know is that I can feel the
heat of his body so close to mine as he pens me to the wall by the door.
Close doesn’t seem close enough right now, and when I try to hold on to
him and pull him closer, Leo stiffens. His entire body goes rigid beneath my
hands, his stomach muscles becoming impossibly harder through the layers
of his clothes.
“Leave.” The ragged sound of his voice is like a flamethrower, singing
the delicate wings fluttering inside my belly and chest. “Walk away,
Buttercup,” he orders hoarsely, and though it shouldn’t, it adds to the heat
coursing through my body.
Shaking my head, I refuse to follow his order. Although part of the
reason is because I desperately want to know him, I mostly want to know
what just happened at the church. That building has been a refuge,
especially after my grandfather died, and now all I feel when I think of it is
confusion. The clarity that it usually offers me, the peace, is nowhere to be
found.
“I can’t.”
Flitting between mine, Leo’s eyes widen like he’s trying to take me in. It
feels like he could swallow me into their depths if I don’t look away, and
because no one has ever looked at me like that, I don’t budge. I let him look
his fill, hoping that maybe he’ll give me something to quench my curious
thirst of him and the events of today.
“Little Girl,” murmuring, he comes closer until his lips are at my ear.
“Little Princess,” he breathes and as his breath coats the curve of my neck,
goose bumps break out all over my body with my frazzled sigh.
The tip of his nose strokes up the shell of my ear slowly as his breaths
deepen, like he’s trying to breathe me in.
Jesus, my chest feels so hot that it might explode.
“Walk. Away.” Leo repeats, but his hands flatten on the wall on either
side of my head like he’s holding me hostage. He’s telling me one thing
with his words and showing me another with his actions.
“Why?” Shakily, I wrap my hands in his shirt and pull myself a little
taller. Yeah, I’m out of my depth, but I’m still holding on, still paddling
because sinking right now isn’t an option.
I can’t turn my back and pretend today hasn’t happened. “I’m not a little
girl.”
“Standing on your tippie-toes doesn’t change anything.” There’s a rough
edge to his voice, but as he pulls away from me, he chuckles, like I’m a
child. And fuck, that’s the bucket of ice I needed.
Taking a step to the side I knock his hand off the wall, his arm falls to
his side and he takes a step back with a stupid grin on his face. Handsome
or not, I hate it.
“Being a dick doesn’t make you a man, Little Boy.” I spit at him
through gritted teeth as I take a step closer to the open door. I don’t know
why I call him that, only that I hope it irritates him as much as him calling
me little girl did.
But Leo looks at me with bemusement, like he’s so happy with himself
for getting this reaction out of me. All I want to do is claw the answers I’m
looking for out of him and forget I ever saw him. I want to forget all the
thoughts and fantasies I’ve had over the last weeks.
Except, the thought alone fills me with dread. He might not know it but
thinking of him and all the ways I want him to touch me and feel me…
dreaming of him has been the escape I needed from all the lingering sadness
of my grandfather’s death. Leo’s made me want and need again.
God, I can’t imagine not seeing him one more time. I can’t fathom not
feeling his warm breath on my skin once more, and as much as I hate him in
this moment, I’m still hoping that Fleur and today are wrong.
Looking him in the eyes, I let myself memorise every plain of his face.
The high cheekbones and the way his pale golden skin stretches over them
is so perfect that I feel jealous of his hands when he runs them down his
face.
“Goodbye, Cassandra.” Taking a step toward me he fists his hands at his
sides, his lips pursed and his eyes a blanked canvas.
The way he’s looking at me like I’m nothing, unimportant,
inconsequential is like a punch to the gut. It’s a hit that makes me stagger
backwards until I’m standing outside my father’s office.
Stupidly, it’s only then I notice the way the furniture has been
rearranged. The large desk is in the middle of the room with chairs all
around it like it’s more of a meeting room than a home office. Papers are
pasted on the wall to my left and before I can make out what’s on them, Leo
closes the door in my face.
All I can do not to break it down is bite my tongue and run. I run all the
way up to my room and only when I’ve slammed the door behind me and
buried my face in my pillows do I scream.
I feel the anger and frustration as it rips out of me. I keep going until my
throat is sore and my voice is so hoarse it doesn’t sound like me anymore.
“Cassie? Babe?” I push my face deeper into the down pillow as I feel
Fleur’s weight dip the mattress beside me. “Forget him,” she says, pushing
me onto my back until I’m looking up at her and she’s looking down at me.
“I can’t.”
“Yeah, you can. It’s what I’m here for.” Her smile is crooked, and I
already know she’s thinking up a plan to distract me.
Trouble is, I know that despite what’s happened today, I’m stuck on
Leo. Whether I like it, want it, or not.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 6

CASSANDRA

S tumbling through the crowded dancefloor of the Gladstone’s

country manor, I tug at the full crimped tulle and organza skirt of
my ivory dress. My lungs burn as we push through the guests at
Arabella’s grandfather’s eightieth birthday party and my feet are killing me.
Fleur hasn’t let me sit down once since we arrived.
“I swear to God, they always put the toilets as far as they can from the
party. Don’t they get that when you drink you need the loo?”
“Maybe don’t drink so much!”
“Don’t be stupid!” Rolling her eyes, Fleur squeezes my hand and just as
we’re about to make it off the dancefloor—with the ballroom doors in sight
—a warm, clammy hand closes around the top of my shoulder. Turning to
see who it is, my eyes catch for a moment on deeper, greener ones.
Ones that I’ve been trying to avoid like the plague all evening, but I’ve
been failing miserably. Leo’s everywhere I look as he navigates the party
with the kind of care-free swagger that makes you think every dirty thought
under the sun, even without the experience behind them.
But right now, with my stomach at my feet, I feel like a fool. I’ve spent
so long obsessing over him, even with the shitty way he treated me the
other day, that it feels like a fist is closing around my heart as I watch him
dance with someone else. The bright red of her dress hurts my eyes to the
point that nausea is turning my intestines.
I fucking hate her. Whoever she is, because I can’t see her face.
 If I were someone else, a bit more like Fleur, I would be marching over
to where Leo spins her on the dancefloor, and not only would I trip her up
so she fell on her face—I’d claw her fucking eyes out.
Jealousy is a fucker, and it’s the only reason for how worked up I am.
Is it wrong that I want to hurt the girl because I want it to be me he’s
holding? Does it make me a bad person to hate someone because they have
something I want?
Maybe. All the years of mass and practice have been very clear on the
fact that coveting is a sin. And in this moment, I covet Leo. I crave his
attention as I lust for his touch.
Forcing my sight to the man patiently waiting for my eyes, I take a deep
breath.
Jack’s familiar grin greets me, and even as I recall the way I had to push
him away at Freddie’s party, the resentment I’m feeling towards Leo and his
dance partner trumps my sensibility. I’m a little surprised at seeing Jack
here, after what happened at the old house, I didn’t think I’d see him again,
despite his promise to see me around.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” he sings.
“Hey,” I reply, laughing back at him. I don’t mean for it to be awkward,
but the whole sweet cheeks thing makes me cringe.
Still, he chuckles with me and from behind I can hear Fleur clear her
throat. Looking over my shoulder, his eyes light up but then quickly come
back to me when she stands beside me.
“Someone this beautiful should always be asked to dance.”
Sighing with an audible cringe as Fleur squeezes my arm, and I have to
bite my lip not to giggle when I picture her eye roll.
When I don’t say anything, because I have no idea what to say to his
remark, he follows it with, “Would you like to dance?”
“I…ummm…well…” About to give him an excuse, my gaze finds Leo
and his girl. The sick feeling in my stomach intensifies and when his light
blue eyes follow my line of sight, I rush out a reply, “Sure.”
“Excuse us for a moment.” Fleur turns me to her and then spins us until
my back is to Jack. “Are you fucking stupid? Seriously? You’re going to
dance with him after what you told me he was like at the party?”
Although her rant is hushed, I still check behind me to make sure Jack
hasn’t heard before I answer her. “Didn’t you tell me to forget? Haven’t you
told me a million times that I’m too picky?”
 “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you go with the wanker that can’t take no
for an answer!”
“Relax. Look around you, this isn’t some dark party.” Before she can
say anything else, I turn to Jack, ignoring her retort behind me, “You’re an
idiot.”
He doesn’t wait for me to offer him my hand, he holds my elbow and
leads me right next to Leo, where he proceeds to pull me flush to him,
holding our laced hands in the air beside us.
His other hand settles precariously low at the base of my back and
although my spine stiffens at the feel of it, I smile lightly.
Breathe, Cassie. I have to remind myself when I catch Leo’s gaze and
find him glowering our way. The hand I have on Jack’s shoulder slides up,
to his collarbone, so that the V of my thumb and index finger almost
touches the base of his neck.
The girl laughs as she whispers into Leo’s ear, her hair hiding the profile
of her face, and it makes me boil inside.
How is she any better than me?
His hand slips lower down her naked back and I close my eyes, I can’t
bear to watch him touching her skin the way I want him to touch mine.
Arsehole or not, every part of me is calling out, begging for the warmth
and feel of his skin on mine.
I imagine that the hand just above my butt, is Leo’s and although it
doesn’t feel like what his do, all of a sudden, it’s a lot more welcome.
Heat blooms in all the parts of me that crave him as his eyes sear my
already melting senses. I imagine that it’s Leo pulling me closer to him as
we navigate the dancefloor to a mellow big band number that I can’t name
right now.
My heart is beginning to race, and my legs are shaking with the need to
press together as I feel his breath tickle my neck, just behind my ear again.
Saliva pools in the well below my tongue as I lick the roof of my
mouth. His face tucks into the crook of my neck and I feel the air being
pulled into his lungs along with my scent.
My whole body is vibrating like it’s about to collapse in on itself when
cold air swamps me and I’m yanked and hefted into another body.
Opening my eyes while my stomach loops the loop—like I’m about to
drop into a sinkhole—they meet bright green fire. It takes me longer than it
should, but I try to push away as Leo effortlessly carries me out of the
smallish ballroom.
“Put. Me. Down.” I grit.
“No,” he responds, deadpan and surprisingly breathless.
“I swear to God—”
“You swear to God, what?” he bites as he pushes me into one of the
shadowed corners towards the end of the hallway.
Flames lick at every square inch of me as he presses me into the wall
with his whole body, holding me hostage. When I’m truly stuck between
him and the panelled wall. The architrave digging into my back, he lowers
me onto my feet, and we stand there breathing heavily into each other.
His eyes darken.
His nostrils flair.
He licks his lips.
Oh. My. Life.
“What do you swear, Cassandra?” His raspy rumble makes the air
thicken in my throat.
“I hate you.” I do. I really, really do. I hate him for making me this
desperate and crazy. For making me crave him the way I do.
“I hate you too.”
He does?
“I hate that you follow me everywhere I go. Every. Fucking. Where.”
When he exhales his rigid body relaxes into mine.
Leo brings one of his hands up between us. I think he’s going to cup my
face, but he flattens his palm on the wall behind me, next to my head.
I’m pleasantly claustrophobic, but there’s no way I’m going to show
him how undone I am by his touch and attention.
I square my shoulders to him and grit with as much push back as I can
muster, “Let me go.”
“Let you go?” he mutters with a dark laugh. “Let you go?”
“Yes.”
“Why? So you can go back to fraternising with Jack?” The way he says
Jack’s name is full of venom and loathing.
I almost tell him that he’s wrong. I don’t want to go back to another guy.
I want to stay here, between his hot, hard body and the wall at my back. But
as I’m about to make that mistake, my eyes find his and all I can remember
is what happened in my father’s office.
 “He’s not the enemy,” I tell him, what I intended to be a chuckle comes
out as more of a breathy retort. “We were dancing, like—”
“He’s a fucking cockroach, and you’d do well to remember that.”
Lowering to mine, his face twists and even with it pinched like that he’s so
handsome that I feel myself warm for him.
“I suppose he’s part of the job gone wrong?” I lower my chin and give
him my best glower from beneath my lashes.
My father didn’t tell me anything. I’ve barely seen him the last couple
of days, and when I have, he’s been on the phone or busy talking to
someone else. Christopher hasn’t shown his face at home, opting to stay
with Arabella. So really, I’m hoping Leo doesn’t see through my digging
and offers me something.
“Manipulation is an art, little girl.”
“Turns out art is my thing, little boy.”
“Call me a little boy again, Cassandra, I dare you.” I thought he was as
close as he could get, but as he steps right between my feet. His body comes
so flush to mine that my heart loses its shit, going off on an irregular, deep
thrum that is so loud in my ears, it’s deafening.
“Little. Leo.” I prod him a little more and his nostrils flare.
You absolute tit.
“Little Leo, full of little secrets.” At this point I might as well keep
pushing, if I’m to go down in flames, I may as well make it worth my
while.
“You have no idea…”
The tip of his nose strokes up and down the bridge of mine, and the
hotter it gets between us, the more my legs open to let him closer. I hate my
fucking dress. I hate that the full skirt is forcing space between us when all I
want is to feel him everywhere.
Snapping to his, my gaze dances with his and my life, I could get lost in
them forever. “Tell me.” I breathe. “Give me an idea.” The heat of my
words emanates from his skin as he tilts his face to the side. “Please.”
“Buttercup…” Shuddering at the feel of his nose trailing over my cheek
I feel as though the wall gives behind me.
The way his exhales fan on my cheek has water filling my mouth and
when I lick my lips, I fully expect him to pull away. He doesn’t though.
Leo holds so still and so close that the tip of my tongue skims the dip of
his cupid’s bow and I have to brace myself against the wall because
everything feels like it’s falling away leaving only me and him.
“I don’t want to hate you.” I whisper, as one of my hands leaves the
wall and flattens to his side.
“You should.” Our heavy breaths mingle, and his words prick at me like
a thorny rose.
“Why?”
Cupping my nape his hands tilt my face a little higher so that our eyes
are level and with every blink our lashes brush together. His lip ghosts over
mine and it’s so soft that I really could be imagining it, but I know I’m not
when his groan vibrates through me.
“Because…”
“B-because?”
His fingertips dig into my flesh, and I like the pressure more than I think
I should. It feels a bit like the pull between us, the ache that won’t let me
forget him. And now that Leo’s touched me like this, I don’t know that I’ll
ever be able to unfeel him.
“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful this close.” Stuttering at his words
my heart clogs up my throat and I can’t catch a single breath.
Unable to remember my name, let alone what exactly we were talking
about I allow myself to sink into him. Into his warmth and hard body, into
the way his hot breath coats my lips as he slides his lips gently across mine,
back and forth, so slowly that, God, I might actually die if he doesn’t just
kiss me right the fuck now.
“Do you still hate me, Cassandra?” The pride in his voice rasps into my
slightly gaping mouth and all I can taste is his sweetness. It’s all vanilla,
cherries, and cloves. Plus his smooth woodsy scent that makes my chest
bow to get closer to him.
Do I hate him?
No.
Maybe just a little.
I don’t think I do at all.
But from the way his eyes are watching and waiting for my answer, I
believe he really does want me to. It makes no sense, but I’ll give him
whatever he wants right now.
“Yes.”
The deep exhale that pushes out of his mouth is punctuated with a
groaned, “Good.” And then his lips press to mine. Hard. The kind of hard
that makes you ache from the inside out like your bones might be too big
for your skin.
It’s like all my insides are twisting and knotting as his tongue breaches
my mouth and all I can taste is him. And just as I think this kiss can’t get
any better, his fingers tunnel into my hair and twist, pulling at it and
messing up the ballerina bun at my crown.
Latching onto his sides, I bunch his dinner jacket in my fists. It feels
like the only way to keep myself from falling as he explores my mouth and
I lap up everything he gives me.
“Leo?”
We both freeze at the sound of his name. Leo’s so tense that his limbs
might crack if I force them from me, like he’s an old porcelain mannequin
that’s been left in a hot window for too long.
Noticing the way his jaw clenches and his nostrils flare when the sharp
female voice calls him again, I straighten as best I can and peer over his left
shoulder.
I recognise the girl he was dancing with instantly. Her blue come hither
eyes are razor sharp and her pointed chin is set with a scowl.
Laura Stanton, the Prime Minister’s daughter. The girl who made my
life hell until she left college. I hate her.
Although Leo’s still pinning me to the wall with his hands now loose on
my shoulders, without so much as acknowledging her, her glower is aimed
at only me. Standing there with her hands on her perfect hips, looking at me
like I’ve stolen her puppy or something.
Have I stolen her something?
Even though I’m asking myself this question, I can’t help how perfectly
envious I am of her glossy gold hair and perfect thirty-four-twenty-five-
thirty-four hourglass figure. A real-life Barbie.
I try to push Leo away because I’m not this girl that hurts others
because she wants what’s theirs. Even if that’s the kind of girl Laura is. He
won’t budge, though, and when I look at him, his eyes are hard. They’re
like beer bottle glass ready to shatter at the smallest impact.
“Don’t. Move.” He orders, taking a step back and to the side so that he
is looking between me and Laura. The instant cold that washes over me
leaves me lost for a second, all I can do is watch Leo and wonder if he’s
made me into someone I’ll despise.
 The way his eyes flicker from me to her, back and forth, it’s like he’s
deciding who to pick. It’s such a ridiculous notion, considering his tongue
was just licking at every nook and cranny of my mouth.
Maybe he’s looking for a way of justifying himself to her.
Regardless, I’m certain he’ll pick her. My hair is too ashen and bland
next to hers. My brown eyes are just brown eyes. My body isn’t evenly
proportioned. Although my hips are technically the same width as my
shoulders, my small chest makes them look a lot bigger. Rounder. Bulkier.
Another thing she liked to point out in her jibes. Fat bottomed girl.
I force my eyes back to Leo, to find him already looking at me with his
beguiling green orbs, thick, kiss swollen lips, and high cheekbones.
Next to each other, face on, they’re intimidating. They look like the
definition of power couple, and fuck if that doesn’t make me more jealous
of Laura. First the way they danced, and now the way they look simply
standing beside one another.
“Are you coming back inside?” she asks, irritation distorting the pitch
of her voice.
“Where the fuuuu…” All three of us glance towards the end of the hall
where Fleur is standing wide-eyed, glancing between us like she’s walked
into a Mexican standoff or something.
It’s then I make the decision for him because I can’t bear to stand here
and wait for him to make up his mind on who he wants. I mean, it’s not like
we mean something to one another.
That’s not how it feels though.
I inwardly growl at the stupid voice that seems to have left my head and
is currently inhabiting my chest. Fleur is right, he hasn’t taken a single
opportunity to give me anything other than glances and touches that are cut
short. He hasn’t given me any Leo. I want to know him, but it doesn’t feel
like it’s a reciprocated feeling.
I start for my friend, my eyes clouding with treacherous tears and my
breathing so erratic that my small boobs may well pop out of the currently
too tight corseted bodice of my dress.
Running my fingertips over my burning lips as I try to soothe them, I
take in deep breaths. One after the other, hoping that they’ll hold the tears at
bay.
“Wait!” Leo grits, I know that it’s at me, but I don’t take notice.
 Fleur takes a step to me and when she searches my face, I can barely
stop the tears from spilling.
“Motherfucker!” Fleur breathes far too quietly for her, at the same time
as Leo snaps, “I said wait!”
I’m trying my hardest to contain these foolish feelings inside me. But I
can only picture the way Laura’s hands were so comfortably grabbing onto
his waist when they were dancing. It’s making me want to scream. At him.
At her. At myself for being hurt by something I have no right to be hurt by.
However, it feels like it should have been my hands, just like when he had
me pressed up to the wall with his tongue tasting me and mine savouring
him.
“Let’s go.” I tell Fleur, walking by her when she doesn’t make a move
to follow.
“Cass?” she calls as I start to head back to the ballroom.
I continue walking away before doing something I’ll regret. Or worse,
before he sees me like this. I bet he’d love to see how much his little game
is getting to me. I won’t feed his ego or his pride. He has enough of both
from the way he handled me out here.
“Cassie!” Fleur calls again, a little too loudly, and I automatically turn
to her.
I make the mistake of looking at Leo before my friend. And he is staring
me down like I really am a little girl. With his eyes narrowed, his jaw
ticking, and his hands balled at his sides. God, he makes my breath catch.
He’s sexy even with that high and mighty look on his face. Maybe I wasn’t
lying at all. I do hate him. Even if it is the smallest bit.
“Don’t look at her, arsehole, I’ll rip your fucking eyes out!” Fleur snarls
at him. Her hands are on her hips, her head is tilted to the side and a sneer
paints her face. “And why are you even still here?” she spits at Laura with a
disdainful roll of her dark eyes.
Laughing at Fleur, like she’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic, Leo
takes a step towards us, and I’m laughing too, because I don’t know what
I’d ever do without her. I want to kill her for making a scene and I want to
hug her for always having my back in her own crazy way.
“You think I’m funny?” Stepping closer to Leo, her shoulders pull back
as her hands scrunch her black lace, see-through skirt that skims the floor.
The corset bodice of her dress emphasises her perfect posture that screams I
can take you.
 She is full-on squaring up to him. Even with her small five-foot-four
frame dwarfed by his much taller and broader one, she still looks
intimidating.
“Huh?” Taking another step forwards, the point of her stilettos touch the
shiny leather tip of his Oxfords.
Laura growls, I half expect her to stamp her feet, but she stands glued to
the spot with a murderous expression on her face instead.
Taking a deep breath, I walk over to Leo and Fleur and carefully pry
one of her hands off her tiny waist before I try to pull her away. “Come on,
babe.” I tell her softly because she’s ready to explode at any minute.
“Wait,” Leo murmurs when I begin to walk away, but despite his
reaching tone, his hands are tucked into his pockets.
“I hope your tiny, micro dick falls off.” Fleur growls at him with a
withering look that travels up and down his body.
The way she bares her teeth at him is feral and, although I’m almost
certain that she won’t, I pray that she doesn’t spit at him.
“I’ll have those drinks now.” Taking one last look behind me, I find Leo
staring at me with a hitched brow.
Arsehole!
Something twists me up in that second and I do something that I don’t
normally do. I give him the middle finger.
I want to retract it immediately and apologise, but instead I fight myself
and make a point of holding it up for longer. Yes, I am that little girl he
accused me of being, but to hell with it.
Racing, my heart feels like it might burst out of my chest as his eyes
narrow on mine and a full-beam smile cuts his face before he chuckles.
Something about that fills me with pride. I feel like in some way I’ve
achieved something. Like my petty, immature action has made him see me
as less of a little girl.
“I’m so proud of you.” Fleur sing songs with a big grin on her face.
“Now, if only his tiny sausage really would fall off.”
Recalling the way his arms and shoulders felt under my hands, I suck
my lip into my mouth. He didn’t feel small, he felt hard and strong and I
think it’s impossible for Leo to be small in any way.
Heat blooms in the pit of my stomach and it clambers up my body like
shaken up fizz.
 “You’ve got something loose, you know that?” Trying to clear my head
I force a laugh, but it only earns me a suspicious side-glance from her.
“Oh, come on, I’m trying to get past your passive aggressive silence.”
“I’m fine,” I bump my hip to her side in reassurance. I’m not actually
sure whether I am or not because that glint of satisfaction I got from
standing my ground is fading and now I feel like an idiot for giving him
another rise out of me. First the kiss and now this, it’s like I’m a puppet
tethered to his strings. And walking away is only making those strings pull
taught.
“I need a drink.” Walking through the ballroom doors, I tug Fleur to the
bar. “Or four.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 7

CASSANDRA

F leur and I are both sitting in the dry bath of my en-suite at

Heavers Hall. The large claw foot tub that takes up a third of
the room and could fit at least three people, has been our
somewhat drunken chat booth for the last hour.
My head was spinning so much when I laid in bed that it made me feel
sick, and Fleur is sticking it out with me, like she always does.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” she says, as she prods my foot with her nude
manicured toes and then rearranges her white underwear. “We need to
obliterate that arsehole from your mind, who kisses a girl when they’ve
been groping another?”
“Good luck with that, and he wasn’t exactly groping Laura. She was the
one with the wandering hands.” I sigh, lolling my head onto her shoulder as
she threads her fingers through mine. My heart feels sore from all the ways
it’s been sliced and diced by all my thoughts of Leo and Laura.
I regret walking away now that all I can do is feel the aftermath of his
kiss on my lips and my thoughts. Thinking of all the things he could be
doing with her this minute.
“We need to find you someone else. What about the guy you were
dancing with? I know his lines are cringy, but at least...”
“Jack doesn’t feel right, and now Leo’s kissed me and all I can think
about is how right it felt to be touched by him.” Goose bumps break out on
my skin as I replay the way his tongue worked with mine and his teeth sunk
into my lip.
 “Feeling right doesn’t make it right, babe, and he and Laura…” she
turns on her side and I have no idea how she can lay like that—with her
legs propped on the rim of the bath, her hip bearing her weight on the hard
enamel bottom and her head crooked awkwardly—as she looks at me
with…sympathy?
“I know. I saw them. You don’t have to keep bringing them up.”
“I’m looking out for you, because he’s got trouble written all over him
and you’re too soft for your own good.” Wincing at her statement and the
pang it reverberates through me, I sigh.
“He kissed me.” My voice is wispy thin as I repeat myself. “That’s got
to mean something, right?”
“Crush aside, do you think and feel like it’s something other than a guy
trying to cop a feel?”
“What if it isn’t a crush, Fleur? What if this is it and I’m not
experienced enough for him?”
“If it’s not a crush, what does it matter how experienced you are?
Experience is a relative thing, not everyone is into the same thing. Not
everyone wants the same thing. Some people want fun and others want
commitment. It’s more about wanting the same thing than having
experience.”
“But it helps, right?”
“It’s not like you’re little miss innocence.” Her laugh is soft as she eyes
me knowingly. “You know what a dick looks like and where it can go. The
rest is all relative to your tastes.”
“Tastes,” murmuring, I can’t help but wonder what Leo’s tastes are.
What he likes and whether I like it too.
Leo is such a mercurial kind of person that I can’t fathom things with
him being like what I’ve seen on a screen or have heard from Fleur.
My skin heats like he’s pressed to me again and every part of me misses
his warmth and feel like he’s all I’ve ever known.
“Stop overthinking shit, Cass.”
“What if I end up alone? I could end up as an old spinster with a million
cats, buried in books and surrounded by paintings.”
She gives me a death look and says, “You’re in your twenties, dipshit,
you’ve got time. Also, I’ll never let that happen to you. I’ll make sure
you’re surrounded by the right kind of pussy if it comes to it.”
 We burst out laughing, both covering our faces with our arms like we’re
bashful with one another when we probably know more intimacies about
each other than anyone else would care to know.
With both of us hiding behind our biceps, I tell her, “The whole time I
was dancing with Jack, I kept pretending it was Leo. Then it was him
touching me and his breath soaking into my skin, and now, I can’t stop
thinking about him. It’s like he’s branded me with his own brand of crazy
obsession.”
“Holy tart, he’s the first guy you’ve ever remotely hinted at falling for,
and he is an arsehole.” She sighs in defeat as she rolls back onto her back.
“Honestly, what am I going to do with you?”
The silence we settle into is loaded with my thoughts of Leo and what
might have happened if Laura hadn’t interrupted us. I wonder if he wanted
to do more than just kiss and whether he will ever kiss me again.
Recalling what all his intensity and broodiness felt like solely focused
on me is enough to make my mouth water and my body clench in places
that have my insides filled with butterflies.
“Oh God, what the fuck is going on now? I thought you said things had
been quiet around here?” Fleur says, as she gets up and out of the bath, loud
voices filter in from the corridor outside my room as I follow her.
Rushing into the bedroom, I slip on one of my oversized T-shirts as she
races to get her shorts and vest on.
Looking me up and down, Fleur stops by the bedroom door. “Jesus
Christ, how do you do that? How do you manage to one, make that T-shirt
look even remotely nice and two, look that good when you could barely put
a foot in front of the other an hour ago?”
“It’s a talent.” I shrug, tugging at the hem of my T-shirt and as Fleur is
about to say something, we both freeze at the sound of Christopher’s loud
yell. “Stay the fuck here, Arabella!”
“NO!”
Opening my bedroom door without a second thought I find her in
unstoppable, hiccupping tears.
Arabella and I are barely what you would call friends, but I go to her as
she threatens to collapse on the hard wood floor.
“Get in the fucking bedroom and don’t fucking leave this house. Do you
understand?”
 The anger rolling off Christopher is palpable and staggering, and with
how upset Arabella is it makes me want to yell at him to back off and lower
his voice. But there’s this menacing, cold look in his eyes that makes me
very wary of my actions.
“He’s my friend!” Pushing off the wall, she lunges at him with her fists
hammering his chest relentlessly until he holds them still, flush to him.
“I know, Bells. I know, baby,” he murmurs into her ear. I think it’s
meant to be only for her to hear, but he’s so flustered and breathless that his
whispers are hoarse and not as silent as he intended them on being. “I need
you to calm down, I can’t go and help Leo if you’re like this.”
Leo?
Sinking to the floor like a lead balloon, my heart threatens to cave in on
itself as I fill to the brim with dread. Fleur, who was still standing in my
doorway rushes over and although she doesn’t take my hand, she touches
her side to mine.
“What’s happened?” My question is a desperate, breathy cry and by the
time I register it, it’s too late for me to collect myself. “What’s going on,
Christopher?”
Looking between the three of us like he’s unsure of what he can and
can’t say, his face softens before he wraps Arabella in his arms. “He’s okay,
Cass.”
A sob bursts out of Arabella and he curls in around her, like he’s
protecting her from an attack or sheltering her from a storm.
“We need to go, helicopter’s here,” Dad says out of breath like he’s just
ran up the four flights of stairs to get to our floor. The Victorian gothic
architecture has never felt so eerie and cold as it does with the stoic look on
his face.
Helicopter?
Nausea turns my stomach at the mention of the aircraft. It hasn’t been
used in months, not since my grandfather’s fatal accident.
“Be careful, please, Christopher.” Arabella sobs into his chest. “I need
you. We need you.”
“Never as much as I need you, Belles.” A liquid smile fleets across his
face and then it grows serious and stoic again. “Stay here, okay? Don’t go
anywhere, it doesn’t matter who calls or comes knocking. At the first sign
of trouble, you know what to do?”
She nods and then says, “Shoot first, ask questions after.”
 “Only to maim,” he smirks at her and then leans down to kiss her.
Her hands cup his face and his hold hers. I have to look away because
the depth of their kiss is too much for me. It’s too intimate and too
meaningful to be seen and felt by anyone barring the two of them.
“Are you okay?” Fleur asks as I start for the stairs where my father is
turning to head back down and all I can do is look at her blankly as I try to
sort through the unease roiling inside me.
Following him down in silence I am incapable of seeing anything
straight. It’s all a blur and when we reach the bottom my body feels so
heavy that my legs are like dead weights anchoring me to the last step.
Mum is already waiting, her hair up in a messy ponytail and her face
bare. Her casual cigarette jeans and high-neck attire make her look ready
for a trip to the tea room.
Even in this post party, dressed down state she looks demure and
elegant, and if it weren’t for her worry sunken eyes and pallor, you
wouldn’t be able to tell something is seriously wrong.
“No. No way.” Shaking his head, Dad stands in front of her. “You’re not
coming.”
“I’m coming with you or I drive myself. Either way, I’m not staying.”
Her tone leaves no room for arguments.
“The kids—”
“Francis,” she says sternly. “I am going.”
The look they share is different to any other I’ve been privy to.
“Fine, but I’m not happy about this.”
Shrugging, she walks over to where Fleur and I are standing on the
bottom step. When she stops, the softest smile lightens her expression as her
fingers run through my hair before she cups my face.
“Freddie’s staying to hold the fort. All right?”
“What? Why? Where are you going?” My questions come out a breathy
rush.
“I love you.” She stands taller and straighter, the way she does when she
doesn’t want us pushing her.
“What’s going on?” I ask her again, but it’s my father who answers.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Princess.”
“Another job go wrong?” I’m not letting them brush this under the
carpet, especially not with the look they exchange.
 She nods and wraps her arms around his waist. “There’s been an
accident.”
An accident? Hot bile races up my throat and I feel like I’m
plummeting, like Icarus falling from the sky to his demise. God, not Leo.
All of a sudden, I feel like the biggest imbecile for walking away from him.
For letting someone else ruin our moment.
Fleur grabs my hand and squeezes so tight that the bite of her nails on
my skin breaks me out of my thoughts. “Is Leo okay? Arabella was…is
everything…”
Looking between the two of us with narrowed eyes, Mum tells her,
“Everything is okay.”
Reaching out to stroke my friend’s face like she did mine, she adds,
“Stay in the estate.”
Her eyes focus behind us and they soften a little more.
“You’re going?” Arabella asks her, panicked. “Why?”
“I have to.”
Something is exchanged in the silence and Arabella stands beside me as
Christopher joins our parents.
“Like I said, it’s going to be okay.” Mum tells her.
“What if it isn’t?” Arabella murmurs, her voice breaking with her barely
held in sobs.
“We’re going to do everything we can. I promise.”
“Why aren’t you answering the question? Where are you going? What’s
going on?” I burst out before Mum has a chance to turn away. “What’s
happened?”
“Cassie…” Mum starts, but Dad’s phone starts to ring loudly and before
she has a chance to go on, he says, “We need to go.”
My insides pulse with frustration that’s quickly leading to anger, and it
doesn’t matter how many deep breaths I take or how many times I remind
myself that I’m not a sulky child, I just want to scream until the pressure
inside subsides and they give me what I need to know.
Kissing Arabella again, her and Christopher exchange words before he
drops a last kiss on her hand, right on top of her engagement ring. The same
ring my grandfather had given my grandmother for their engagement.
When Mum starts following Dad towards the back of the house, I
follow. My mind reeling with all the things I want to shout. All the ways I
want to make them talk to me.
 “Why won’t you tell me wh—”
Mum pauses by the French doors leading out to the expansive lawn
where the helicopter is sitting, waiting and ready to go. “Cassie, you don’t
need to know anything other than you are safe. You don’t need to worry
about anything.”
“But…” I freeze at the sight of Leo pacing below the almost stationary
helicopter blades. They’re going so slow that when he brings the cigarette
he’s holding to his lips ash doesn’t flurry around him like you would expect
it to.
Smoking is a habit I can’t stand, that I always nag Christopher about,
but Leo makes it look like the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Even with the
way he looks rumpled in his tux, with his shirt tails hanging loose below the
hem of his jacket. His usually coiffed hair is floppy and messy, and when he
brushes it out of his eyes, our gazes meet.
I’m glued to the spot with relief inflating me to the point I feel like I
might float off into the night sky.
“He looks like shit.” Fleur says beside me, linking her arm with mine.
“He does,” I whisper. Sighing as I try to ignore the need to go to him.
He may look messy and rumpled, but all I see is the way he’s looking at me
with a need that matches mine. The need to touch and be touched, and all I
want is to go to him and make sure that he’s okay. Even though I already
know that he isn’t. The strings between us are pulling and twisting, and
God, I can feel his turmoil. It’s not just written on his face; it’s conducting
between us like a live current through a copper wire.
Arabella makes the first move, running to him before wrapping him in
her arms. And jealousy threatens to swallow me whole. At the same time,
I’m debating what to do.
Do I go to him? Do I not?
The regret I still feel for walking away at the party rears its head and it’s
all I need to know that I can’t ignore the need to be close to him again.
Taking hurried steps towards him, my feet sink into the wet grass as I
watch my parents get in the helicopter. My mother hesitates momentarily,
and I almost expect her to turn back, but she doesn’t. Taking my father’s
hand, she disappears inside the aircraft.
Flicking his cigarette to the ground, Leo turns to follow them and when
I grab his forearm my heart races as our eyes connect once more. This close
he looks exhausted, and the handsome hollows of his face are more
pronounced, making him look feral and haunted.
Stepping closer, he takes his arm back before he grabs my hips with
both of his hands. The blades pick up speed and my hair blusters around us
as his face lowers to mine. The low, wiry whoop of each turn is loud and
perfectly timed until it becomes one loud continuous whoosh a bit like my
heartbeat.
“I thought…” My voice and my words ball up in my mouth and I have
to take a deep breath and swallow them down in order to try and say
something. “There was an accident…”
Clambering up his arms, my hands trace up to cup his jaw and when he
doesn’t try to push me away, I take a step closer to him until we’re so close
that Leo’s lips are at my ear.
I turn my face into his, the grip of his hands tightening on my hips as I
whisper with relief, “You’re okay.”
“An accident,” he repeats, his expression hardening as a low, bitter
laugh twists his handsome face.
I don’t like his reaction to my words, it has alarm bells going off in my
head and my chest is so tight that I might suffocate. “Tell me what’s
happened, please?” It’s not so much a question as it is a plea and a hope that
at least one person will tell me the truth.
“I happened.” I swear there are tears lining his eyes as he grits those
words.
Rolling onto the tips of my toes with my hair tangling around us I press
my lips to his jaw and enjoy the way his stubble grates my warm skin as his
fingers dig deep and hard into my flesh, so much that I can feel his touch in
my bones.
I have no idea what he meant by he happened, but his tone is heavy
with guilt and regret, and all I want is to make it better for him. However, I
can’t try to fix something that I have no idea of. “What happened?”
His expression hardens with his swallow; I know what’s going to
happen like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Lowering himself to my height he presses me flush to his body as he
hisses in my ear, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay well enough
away from me.” And then he’s gone. He rips himself away from me like
you would a plaster from a wound. Fast. Without hesitation or warning. But
it doesn’t minimise the pain that floods me.
 Falling to the ground at my feet, my heart shatters. I knew that I was in
way above my head with my feelings. A part of me already knew that
eventually, Leo would break me, I just didn’t expect it to be so soon and so
easily. Not after only one soul searing kiss.
Arabella walks me back towards the house, she stops to watch the
helicopter take-off, but I can only trudge inside, barely able to keep myself
upright in my trance.
What was I thinking? Is all I can ask myself as I drag my feet into the
kitchen. I sit at the large antique bench, the cold in the room matching the
ice in my chest, as exhaustion and disappointment stab and twist inside me.
Shaking I’m incapable of wiping the tears that rim my eyes, and when
someone drapes a blanket over my back and puts a cup of my favourite
maple and chamomile tea in front of me, I can’t even express my gratitude.
Eventually Arabella and Fleur join me, and although I have a tonne of
questions swirling round in my head, my hurt has left me voiceless.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 8

LEO

P ouring the cold coffee down the toilet sink, I take another look
in the mirror and find guilt starring back at me. I shouldn’t have
gone to that party; I should’ve stayed in London with Kit. It
would’ve been the best thing to do by everyone, but the temptation was too
much, I was too busy chasing tail to look out for my brother. Now we have
no idea if he’s going to make it.
Had I listened to him we might not be here right now. Unable to look at
myself anymore, I throw the coffee cup into the bin beside the vanity before
I wash my face once more. But it doesn’t matter how many times I wash my
hands and my face and how many times I wish I had done today
differently…nothing changes.
All I can do is hope and pray that Kit doesn’t die. That he makes it past
surgery and that I have a chance to take back the harsh words I left him
with.
“Son…” Gritting my teeth is all I can do not to break at the gravely tone
of my grandfather’s voice. “Your mother needs you.”
Grandad has been like a father to me, he picked up the pieces after my
father broke everything. He took care of us when he could’ve washed his
hands clean. Francis aside, I think he’s the only other person that
understands why I can’t walk away from this road I’m on.
“I just need a moment.”
“I told you to be careful. I told you not to trust anyone. It’s the one thing
I’ve drilled into you.”
 He’s right, it is the one thing he’s always preached. But I don’t
understand why he’s saying this now. The truth is, I don’t need him to
hammer the guilt any deeper, I can do that myself.
“I know.” Brushing my hands over my face I turn to him and head for
the toilet door. “How could he do this to his own son?”
When I was a child, I’d wish I had a different dad at least once a day.
That was before I found out what Lucian Fairfax was capable of, after that I
wished he’d drop dead, now I want nothing more than to kill him myself.
“I don’t know,” walking slowly beside me, Grandad squeezes my
shoulder.
“I hope he burns in hell for all his sins.”
“Careful what you wish for, son, in the end we’ll all burn for one reason
or another.” Stopping me before we get back to the waiting room, he says,
“The biggest sin is love, the things people do for it…” He shakes his head,
his narrowed eyes glance inside the room where my mother is still in tears
and Penny is trying to console her, along with Wayne.
Wayne is pretty much a Sinclair, he and Francis go way back. There is
nothing they won’t do for each other. To protect each other. It’s why
Wayne’s the only person Francis trusts with his family’s lives. The fact that
he and my mother are together makes us family too.
“Love makes the wisest of men do stupid, reckless things. Love always
leads to loss, my boy. Never be afraid to love, but never forget that trust is
for the weak.”
That’s the gospel according to Kinsley Fairfax.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“I’m reminding you of what I’ve always told you, Leo. There’s always a
game in play and trusting people is asking for disappointment. Be careful of
who or what you chose to love, it’ll be what makes or breaks you.” Slipping
his hands into the pockets of his navy chinos, he walks into the room,
leaving me to ponder his words as I take in every person in that room.
Mum looks up at me and I can’t hold her gaze for fear of what I’ll see in
the depth of her green eyes. So I sit in one of the chairs by the door and
stare at the grey and green speckled floor. There’s nothing I can do for her
or Kit and it’s killing me, because I would do whatever I could to fix this.
I would have avoided that party and stayed with Kit.
But then you would never have gotten a taste of her.
 The voice resounds inside me and I have no idea if it’s in my head or
my chest, maybe it’s everywhere because every part of me yearns for more
of Cassandra. Like a forbidden fruit, a taste of her will never be enough,
and I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on her.
And now I’m sitting here not knowing how to stifle my thoughts of her
so I can just let myself drown in my guilt. She’s like this light that
illuminates all my darkness and even though I want to tell myself that after
today I’m not going near her anymore, I can’t.
Rubbing my hands on my thighs I peer up at Mum, and when her warm
smile greets me, shame floods me again. She has no idea how much of a
cunt I was to Kit, if she did, she’d tell me to leave.
Getting up from her seat, she wipes her eyes. Her tall frame is hunched,
and it doesn’t matter that she’s trying really hard to collect herself, she
looks just as sad and melancholy as some of the old paintings she restores
and conserves at the gallery.
When she sits beside me her head rests on my shoulder and she sighs,
like I’m offering her hope or something.
“What was it about?” she asks, stroking my forearm with her hand.
Comforting her is just another thing I’ve failed at. “What was your fight
about?”
With wide eyes and an askance tilt of her head, she gives me that look
that makes me want to spill my guts.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes as the itchy sting intensifies. “I was a
dick.”
Her laugh is unexpected, and it makes me turn to makes sure that it is a
laugh and not a cry I haven’t heard before.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because your brother would have paid good money to hear you say
that, and it’s really…” Pausing, she takes a deep breath as her eyes glaze
over with more tears. “It doesn’t matter what happened between you. It’s
not the first fight you’ve had, and it’s not the argument that matters,” her
voice breaks and with the jolt of her breath her tears topple over the rim of
her eyes and down her face. “It’s not the argument, Leo, it’s all the things
you’ve ever done and what you do after it. The pair of you were always
good at moving on, and Kit would be disappointed that you’re not moving
on.”
“But—”
 “No.” Her head shakes from side to side vehemently. “He’s going to be
okay. He has to be.”
Watching as her hand clasps around the small crucifix around her neck,
I pray to God that she’s right. That he’ll make it out of surgery and through
everything that comes afterward.
“He was trying to look out for me, and I was an ungrateful arsehole. I
told him to look out for himself, but maybe, I should’ve done it too…
instead…instead of…”
Chuckling lightly, she says, “Instead of chasing a girl?”
Cassie’s not just a girl.
“Why isn’t she here, then?” Mum asks.
My eyes dart to where Francis is sitting with Penny as it sinks in that I
didn’t only think those words. My heart’s sudden thrum slows back down
when I realise he’s watching everything that’s happening around us with
eagle eyes.
“I can see why you’d like her but getting close to her is like playing
with fire, Leo. And you know how that ends, don’t you?”
Nodding, I reply, “In ashes.”
Little does she know how far in over my head I am when it comes to
Cassandra Sinclair. The way she looks at me with those big, motherfucking
doll eyes makes me feel like I could be a better man—a man that made
amends for his father’s betrayals—and then she smiles and I would do
whatever it takes to make sure it never fades.
And that’s why I have to push her away and put distance between us,
because if I let her get closer, if I allow myself to take more of her, there’s a
chance that one day she might not smile. She may not look at me like I’m
someone better than I am.
Worse, she could end up like Kit. Battered, bruised, and a bullet in her
head, barely hanging on to her life.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 9

CASSANDRA

“I wonder where she is, Winthrop hasn’t missed a single

freaking day.” Fleur slings her slouchy Mulberry over her
shoulder and stands watching me as I pack my notes and
textbooks away.
The lecture room emptied out the minute we were told that Professor
Winthrop was absent. If Fleur and I hadn’t already set up all our things, we
would’ve gone too, but with Wayne now constantly on my tail, staying was
probably better than being babysat.
Wayne’s always accompanied us to events. If Dad has a high-profile
client, a lot of the time Mum and I will get shadowed by him. It’s how I
know when Dad’s got someone important on the books, we get our own
detail.
But this isn’t a new job that’s come in, this has everything to do with
what happened at the church and the night they rushed back to London a
little over two weeks ago.
“We should go to the party tonight; I really don’t want to go home. My
dad’s being all fucking weird and Natalie’s a bitch. I fucking hate her, she
thinks that she can replace my mum and be better at everything. She’s such
a cow.”
Slugging my bag over my shoulder, I try to give her a soothing smile.
The fourth anniversary of her mother’s death is approaching and it’s
difficult for her. Especially now that Charles has moved Natalie into their
home.
 “How about we do movie night instead? We can do My Girl and eat as
much crap as you like.”
“Macaulay Culkin isn’t going to cut it, babe.” Slipping her arm through
mine she adds, “Plus, we’re meant to be erasing twat features from your
pretty little head.”
“I don’t get what he meant by what he said, and Christopher said that he
was just being an arsehole.”
He’s a fucking banker, they’re all arseholes, Cass.
“I swear to God, though, there’s more to it than that.” I peer behind us
to make sure we’re alone because I’ve got that weird feeling again. My skin
crawls and a cold shudder rolls through me even though there’s no one in
the corridor but us.
“What’s wrong?” Stopping to look around us, Fleur hitches her brow at
me. “Are you being paranoid again?”
“Maybe,” I murmur, shaking my head like that will get rid of my
heebie-jeebies. “Can’t you feel it?”
Looking around us one more time she bites her lip like she’s either deep
in thought or trying really hard to feel what I’m feeling. But when her eyes
meet mine again, she says, “Nope. I feel hungry and ready to blow off some
steam. It’ll be fun.”
“God, fine!”
“Plus, it’s underground and we can just go crazy.” We carry on walking
to the back of the building where Wayne is waiting. “Do you think he gets
bored standing around like that?”
“I don’t know. He gets paid to people watch, that can’t be too boring.”
“Maybe the reason you feel like you’re being spied on is because he’s
got eyes on you all the time.” Laughing she gives him a wink earning her a
shake of his head.
“Everything okay?” Checking me from head to toe in a glance he opens
the door and steps out to the car park taking a good look around before
stepping to the side to let us out.
I give him a smile, the early Spring sun is bright and almost blinding
and when he opens the back door of his Range, I make quick work of
getting in and finding my sunglasses in my bag.
“Where to?” he asks when he gets in, his eyes meeting mine in the rear-
view mirror. I’ve known Wayne all my life. When I was a little girl he used
to sit on the stairs with me and teach me how to punch whenever he was
waiting around for either Mum or Dad. He’s more family than anything
else.
“Home, please.”
“Oh, can we go by my house? I need to pick up some things for
tonight.”
“What’s happening tonight?” Darting his eyes back to mine he starts the
car as he awaits my reply.
“Underground party.”
“Fuck me,” his groan is drawn out as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
Underground parties are always fun. You can get away with a lot as far
as partying goes. There’s no network, no Wi-Fi, no way to communicate
where you are, who is there with you and no ability to share photos. It’s the
rich kids’ carte blanc.
Obviously, some dodgy things take place. Mostly drugs and sex. But for
the most part it’s a consequence free fun time.
“I can’t say you don’t keep things…interesting.”
“Listen,” Fleur chuckles at him once we start moving. “You only get
one life and once we start the Masters, it’ll be game over. So, we’re going
to make the most of our freedom whilst we can, plus, we need to eradicate
Mr. Wanker Banker from her memory.”
Wayne finds my eyes again for a second before he focuses on the road
again and there’s something in them that I haven’t seen before. Like he’s
holding back or something.
“Considering you’ve used every name under the sun, you would’ve
thought you could use his for once.”
“The whole point is that you’re not thinking about his name. I’m trying
to get it in your head that he’s an arsehole and that you need to forget him.”
“He’s at the house all the time.”
“Yeah, ignoring you.”
“Ignoring me would mean he acknowledged my existence in some
way.”
“Like I keep saying, he’s a fucking bellend and you need to forget about
him.”
“Maybe I don’t want to forget him or his existence.” I tell her a little too
snappily as I turn to look out of the window.
I’m not sure what I want anymore when it comes to Leo. At first, I
wanted to know more, and then he kissed me, and it was like Pandora’s sex
box opened and I desired him in ways I’ve never craved a man before. But
now, I’m torn between that and wanting to scream and claw at him.

PULLING my little black dress on I adjust myself beneath it, making sure
that my underwear isn’t visible. My boobs look decent enough behind the
threaded deep V neckline thanks to the Wonderbra pushing them together.
“Wear those, they’re sexy as fuck.” Pointing at the thigh-high peep-toe
boots Fleur takes another sip of the vodka and Red Bull in her hand. “We’re
winning at this shit today, matching underwear, fingers and toes, and we’ve
managed to get ready whilst pre-drinking. Winning!”
Laughing, I pull my boots on and once I’m ready to go, I finish my
drink in one long gulp. Her mixing skills definitely favour the alcohol rather
than the mixer and not only do my taste buds and throat feel it, but the
burning in my stomach has me grimacing.
This is our going out routine, though. We pre-drink so that when we’re
out we can stick with water, that way if anything happens, we can act
quickly. But also, no one wants a boozy photo of them showing up
anywhere, and although tonight is meant to be camera free, not everyone
gets the memo.
Going through my jewellery I catch the yellow dress from the corner of
my eyes, and instantly my chest tightens. It’s silly how something so simple
can make you feel so much. It’s been months since I wore it, months since I
first laid eyes on Leo, but looking at it, I can feel all the same things I felt
that night. And the more I think about it, the more I let myself feel them, the
tighter my chest gets.
“Are you ready?” Fleur asks, handing me my mini cross-body bag.
I’m not ready to pretend like another guy can make me forget Leo. I
look at them and all I can do is think of all the ways they’re different. Leo’s
eyes are so unique, they’re as mercurial in their colouring as he is with his
moods. And his lips are thick in a way that’s just right for his face with his
cupid’s bow curving slightly in the middle. They felt warm and hard on
mine and although his kiss wasn’t gentle, it felt so deep and savoured and…
God, I just want to feel like that again. Like I was seen and felt and wanted,
even as I melted into nothing.
 “Cassie, if you want him that much, you need to do something about it.
And I don’t mean chasing him or letting him walk all over you, just…I
don’t know. Maybe you need a better friend than me, because I’m shit at
this. But, I’m trying to help you the best way I know how, and I think it’s
pointless because you’re looking at the thin air like it’s the most precious
thing you’ve ever seen, and I know you’re not thinking about the night
we’re about to have.”
Without another word she starts for my bedroom door, leaving me to
follow and when we get to the bottom of the stairs, we both stop in our
tracks.
“Fuck my life,” groaning, she adjusts her strapless gold, beaded dress.
The glamour of it toned down by her patent black Doc Martens and
oversized leather jacket. It’s so weathered that it’s light grey in places. “The
fucker is everywhere.”
He is. I think, struggling to hold in the giggle that bubbles up my throat
because my stomach is somersaulting, and my heart is galloping at a crazy
speed at the deep timbre of Leo’s voice.
“God, I hate the bastard! I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to make
you smile and laugh like that. I’ve practically turned into a juggling
monkey, agony aunt, and yet, the minute he speaks it’s like a unicorn has
shat a rainbow in the sky. Seriously?”
“Sorry!” My feet begin to carry me towards him and the closer I get, the
more my stomach knots and my lungs struggle to do their job.
“I’ll continue tracing the accounts, but I need more time. They’re all
subsidiary companies owned by companies and umbrella companies. It’s an
admin assault.”
“I know.” My father replies. “How’s Kit?”
Pausing around the corner from where they’re talking, I look at Fleur
who mouths, “Who’s Kit?”
When I shrug, she rolls her eyes and as I’m about to speak she holds her
finger to her lips.
“Alive. Barely.” Leo replies with a sigh, and it’s so sad that it’s taking
everything in me not to move.
“I know you think it was Lucian, but that’s too far, even for your
father.”
My chest inflates with the new information. It’s nothing amazing, but
it’s another piece of the puzzle I can put together.
 “I don’t know,” Christopher laughs with disgust dripping from his
voice. “I don’t think there’s a line he won’t cross. It’s like he’s ran out of
fucks to give.”
Grabbing Fleur’s hand, I plan to make a dash across the corridor to the
kitchen, but just as we’re about to go for it, three pairs of eyes find us.
Dad’s narrow with a warm smile crinkling the corners and Christopher
takes a step towards me, giving me the once over.
“Going out?”
Unable to get my brain and tongue to work together, I nod. Desperately
fighting to keep my eyes on either my brother or my dad because if I look at
Leo, I don’t know what I’ll do. And I don’t want to make a spectacle of
myself.
His gaze is burning through my effort though, and that battle is very
quickly lost.
“Take Wayne,” Dad says.
“We’ve already made arrangements with him.” Fleur is quick to reply.
“Does your dad know you’re going?” Raising a brow at her, Dad
crosses his arms over his chest, looking down at her.
I hate it when he does that. It feels like he’s a giant ready to quash
whatever you’re about to direct at him.
“The Foreign Secretary has better things to worry about.” The sass in
her tone is higher pitched than normal under my father’s gaze.
“At least you’re being sensible with your safety. Charles would be
impressed.”
“Oh, I’m sure he would be if he—”
Before she can finish what we all know will be a dig at Natalie,
Christopher pulls me into his side and says, “Looks like we’re all going!”
My eyes dart to Leo at Christopher’s statement and it’s a big. Fucking.
Mistake.
His casual clothes make him seem taller than I remember him to be and
the way in which he’s looking at me has my mouth drying and throat
swelling as I take him in. The line of his shoulders is broad and full, but the
length of his arms balances his streamlined bulk. Making him look sleek
like his Maserati.
“I’m heading to the hospital, actually.” It’s obvious he’s talking to
Christopher, but his gaze never leaves me.
 After spending the last couple of weeks trying to bump into him so he’d
have to acknowledge me, I’m finding his gaze a lot more potent than I
recall it. It burns through me like a wild fire that is impossible to extinguish.
And if I don’t look away, I might disintegrate in front of everyone.
Lowering my eyes, I take in the way his black denim shirt hangs open
over his white T-shirt hanging low over his ink black jeans.
It doesn’t matter how hard I’m trying to act like I’m not one breath
away from falling apart, I can’t stand here with him and not be affected.
I’ve done nothing but think of him, his kiss and his harsh words, and now
being here. The need to either shake him until he tells me why I should stay
away from him, or kiss him until he wants me half as much as I want him is
overwhelming.
“Excuse me.” Shaking Christopher off me I head for the kitchen down
the hall.
Stopping to turn the lights on, my whole body shudders when he calls
my name, “Cassie.”
Something in the soft, tortured tone of his voice makes me turn towards
him and when I’ve managed to take a deep breath and look up at his face, I
notice the dark scruff that’s not quite a beard but too long to be considered
stubble. His lips are cracked and an angry red, and his eyes are dark. So
dark that they look black rather than the green I know they are. It’s almost
like all the light has been zapped out of them.
He looks tired and the dark circles surrounding them make the sculpted
edges of his face look too sharp.
A little fissure splinters my heart and I hope that he is all right.
As if he doesn’t know what to do with himself, his hands comb through
his messy hair before he pushes his sleeves up his forearms until they
become stuck around the thick muscle below the crease of his elbow, and
my eyes become glued to them.
They trace the chunky black cross that is tattooed on the side of his
wrist. A trail of flocking birds disappearing under his sleeve and it’s only
when he clears his throat that I look away from him, shaking my head to try
and rattle some sense into myself.
“What?” I ask, barely able to control the way my voice pitches up at the
end, and before he can say anything I repeat a little harder, “What do you
want?”
 “Don’t go tonight.” His tone makes me bristle, I’m not sure whether
he’s asking or bossing me and after the way he left me…the way he’s
ignored me.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Spinning on my heel, I try to get
away from him, but I don’t make it far. I barely manage one step before he
grabs me, kicking the door shut behind us.
There’s nothing gentle or cautious about the way his hands close around
my waist and squeeze, the bite making me shiver. Leo holds me like we
have history between us and a world of experience on how to touch one
another. We don’t.
However, when we’re this close and alone, it feels like we have forever
wrapped around us. A lifetime of experience.
“Listen to me,” he says. The way his voice cracks, it comes across as
more of a plea than anything else. “Cassie, you’re walking around with a
big fucking bullseye on your head. The people your father is after…”
“What? The people my dad is after what, Leo?”
“They’re out there waiting to get back at him. Don’t make it easy for
them.”
The heebie-jeebies come back and mixed with all my frustrations, I
can’t think. All I know is that he keeps pushing and pulling and I’m getting
more tangled up than a kite in the wind.
“And why do you care?”
His eyes are big, dark, and they make him look unhinged. Like he’s a
stone’s throw away from unleashing hell on earth. Or at least his own
version of it.
“Am I suddenly important to you?”
He closes his eyes, like he’s partway through a battle and his strength is
waning.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, still with his eyes closed, his hands trail up the
side of my body and then he opens his eyes right before he cups my face.
The way he seems so broken, scares me slightly and it makes it impossible
for me to hold on to my grudge. “I’m sorry for everything, for caring
enough to push you away.”
Oh crap. I’m rendered speechless and the blood rushing in my ears
momentarily leaves me deaf. My sight blurs and fuck. It’s game over.
Flattening just below his chest, my palms press into him and although I
know that his body is hard, I’m still taken aback by how solid he is. I soon
find my voice.
“You didn’t push me away, though, did you, Leo? You baited me and
when I bit, you reeled me in only to drop me like I don’t matter. Why not
just walk away the night I bumped into you at the concert and forget about
me?”
Stroking my bottom lip his thumbs trail from the corners of my mouth
until they meet at the middle and then run down my chin.
For a fleeting moment I worry for my gloss, but then I much prefer his
touch to perfect lip make-up. Not to mention that we are so close that our
chests touch when we inhale together.
“You didn’t bump into me that night. It wasn’t some clumsy moment
where fate delivered you to me. Some perfectly composed moment by
anyone other than me. I wanted to see you up close, just once. I wanted to
know what it felt like to touch you.”
“Then why did you walk away?” Trying to step back I push at his chest,
but he pulls me completely flush to him by my jaw.
He holds me in place with his hands and his stare, and my tangled
strings pull even tighter until I’m sure they’re going to snap and I’m going
to come crashing down from a height that will obliterate me.
“Because you have no idea of the world you live in, and I wanted to
protect you.”
“Tell me about the world I live in then?”
“It’s all the horror stories you’ve ever been told and then some. People
don’t care about people and life is a bartering chip. You deserve so much
better than that. I knew it the first time I laid eyes on you, you’re too good
for it.” The darkness in his eyes subsides as he brings his face closer to
mine.
“And you?” My lungs are so dry that my words are barely audible.
“If I can’t even do the right thing when it comes to you, in which life do
you think I belong?”
Mine.
Of course I don’t tell him that, instead I fist my hands in his opened
shirt and croak, “I don’t believe that people have different lives, I think we
experience this one differently.”
Shaking his head, he smiles with his gaze touching every inch of my
face. And when he looks at my lips with hunger blistering in his eyes, I
can’t help but ask the question I’ve asked myself every day since the
birthday party. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I’d seen you at events and in the press, but seeing you in person that
close, the moment I touched you, it became impossible to stay away. The
more I tried, the more you were there and I—” Taking a deep breath, his
eyes bore into mine and my racing heart runs away with itself. He looks at
me like he is stripped bare before me, and it’s disconcerting because I’m
used to the prideful, brooding bravado. “This close you are breath-taking.
Impossible to ignore. Your innocence is addictive, and you are so warm and
full of light that I can’t see or want anything but you.”
“So you watch me?” As the words leave my mouth alarms go of in my
head, because I’ve heard of stalkers and people with unhealthy interests in
others. It’s my dad’s job to protect people from others with unhealthy and
unsavoury interests in them.
“Not in the creepy way you’re thinking. I’ve never followed you or
purposefully put myself in places you were at. Well, apart from the concert.
I took my brother’s ticket.”
Before I can take in the pained expression on his face, his forehead
touches mine, rocking his head from side to side, and then he touches his
lips to mine.
They feel even better than I remembered and all I want to do is bite
them and suck them into my mouth. I want to make him feel as desperate as
I do.
“How did I ever not see you?”
Chuckling, he rubs the tip of his nose across mine, and the sadness and
frustration in his soft laugh is palpable. “We’ve been in the same room so
many times, Cassie. Countless times.”
“Then why didn’t I see you?” Sweeping down his front, my hands come
to rest on his hips, and I squeeze as hard as I am frustrated.
“I don’t know, but we were at the TATE gala in October, you spoke to
my mum.”
I spoke to so many people that night that eventually their faces all
merged into one. “I did?”
“Yeah, you did. We both attended the Stantons garden party last
summer.” It was the worst garden party ever thrown by a Prime Minister.
“There have been so many times I’ve seen you from afar, but until the day
your father brought me here and I saw you running around out there…you
were just another wealthy girl that was a part of the same circles as me.”
“Is that how you know Laura? From the garden party?”
“Laura?” Biting his lip, he inhales deeply. “We…umm…we know each
other.”
“You know each other.”
“Yeah,” he says sheepishly before he clears his throat.
I’m not stupid, I know what his look means. He was dancing with her,
and the way she looked at him and me…
“Do you watch her too?”
“Fuck, I don’t know what you’re thinking about me, Cass, but I’m not
some creep who watches women.” His hands slip down the column of my
neck and splay around it on my collarbone.
“I don’t know what to think, Leo. You said you care enough to push me
away. What does that even mean?”
“It means I want to keep you safe. You have no idea the danger you’re
in.”
“Yeah? Whose fault is that?”
“Not yours.”
“I can’t know something no one is willing to tell me. You can’t point out
my ignorance if you’re not willing to enlighten me.”
“Anyone ever tell you ignorance is bliss?”
“No, because it’s a lie.”
His thumbs run up and down either side of my throat. “I don’t want you
to get hurt. I can’t fathom it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve held you. I’ve touched you.” Exhaling, the tip of his nose
brushes the bridge of mine and I feel myself melt. My knees give and I’m
shuddering from the contact and his words. “And holding you is what I
imagine holding a star filled sky is like, and once you’ve felt its weight,
everything else feels empty and hollow.”
“Why didn’t you say all the pretty things instead of pushing me away?
They would’ve been a lot easier to believe then.” I run the tips of my
fingers down his handsome face and then I trace the small scar above his
eyebrow.
He tries to hold on when I step away, but when I wriggle free, he drops
his hands.
 “All I’m asking is that you don’t go tonight. Stay here. Stay safe.”
“You want to keep me safe, Leo?” I ask adjusting my dress. “Come with
us. You like watching me, don’t you?”
“Cassie,” growling, he tunnels his fingers through his messy hair, and I
marvel at the way the ink on his skin moves with the muscle beneath. I love
the way the straight lines bend and stretch. “You don’t know what you’re
asking of me.”
“I do, actually. I’m asking you to stick with me instead of running
away…instead of pushing me away.”
“I can’t stand by and watch anymore!” he grits, rubbing at his face
roughly.
“Then don’t.”
Opening the kitchen door, I leave him to decide what he wants.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 10

LEO

A ll eyes are on us as I follow Cassie out of the kitchen, and

although the girl is tiny, the death stare Fleur’s giving me only
makes me more aware of what I’m doing.
I’m sticking with her. It’s what Cassie wants, and what I want.
“Right, are we going or what?” Spinning Fleur around, Cassie looks
back at me, and I’m very aware that her question isn’t directed at anyone
other than me.
Blowing out the breath I’ve been holding since she walked out of the
kitchen, I reply, “Let’s go.”
It earns me a gentle smile at least, and before we reach the front door—
with Christopher and Wayne following behind us—she slows down and
takes my hand with a squeeze. I swear my fucking chest is going to explode
with the way she’s looking at me with wide eyes and a light pink blush
tinting her cheeks.
Pulling my baseball cap out of my back pocket I shake it back into
shape before putting it on. “You’re stuck to me, got it? Where you go, I go.
At all times, Cass.”
Nodding, her smile widens until her perfectly straight teeth peek
through her lips, and I can’t hold back my own smile. She’s got this ability
to disarm me in a way that no one else can.
By the time we’re all packed into Wayne’s Range, Fleur has a smile on
her face and the couple of times our eyes meet across Cassie, she doesn’t
look like she wants to stab me with hot daggers.
 “Rules for tonight,” Wayne announces when we’re half way to the rave.
His eyes flash to mine, but before I can read him, they dart back to the road
ahead. “Stay together, especially the two of you girlies back there. If I can’t
see you, you’re not safe. Any trouble and we’re out of there.”
That’s directed at me and Christopher and the nod he gives us each in
turn is confirmation. As if my stomach wasn’t already in anxious knots, my
heart tightens like a fist in my chest, and the only thing I can do is hold on
to Cassie.
Her intake of breath is audible when my hand rests on her bare thigh.
Her skin is so soft and hot that it feels like it’s melting into mine, and when
my thumb strokes down to her knee, her reaction is evident as goose bumps
pimple across it.
God, I can’t help but wonder how she’d react if I moved my hand
higher up. Shuddering like she can read my thoughts, she exhales at the
same time as she moves closer, her thigh presses to mine and she turns to
look at me with her teeth biting into her plush pink lip. Every time she
looks at me I have to ask myself how the fuck she exists. How is it possible
for someone to be that beautiful and not fully grasp it?
Resting her hand over mine, her fingertips trail up to my wrist and then
trace the lines of my tattoos. All I can do is watch the way she rolls her lip
between her teeth until the gloss is completely gone. It’s so red and juicy all
on its own, that just the thought of biting down on it myself, has my dick
pressing to the fly of my jeans.
My grip tightens around her thigh and the hitch of her breath has my
own quickening and my heart galloping so loudly in my chest that I have no
idea how no one else can hear it.
It’s only when the car stops, and Fleur opens her door that the cold air
manages to break us out of our trance. My dick is throbbing, and her chest
is heaving as her thighs press and rub together, and the only thing I want to
do right now, is take Cassie home and fuck her.
I want to fuck the breath out of her. The need to lose myself deep in her
is unlike any other I’ve felt. Its intensity goes beyond all the resentment
I’ve held onto so tight over the years.
And fuck, that’s a scary realisation. Because up until this moment the
only constant feeling I’ve held onto is the loathing I have for my father.
That was the only thing I was willing to sacrifice myself and the family
name—I’ve worked so hard to keep clean—for.
 Not anymore though, because looking at Cassandra like this, with her
honey eyes boring into mine, I can’t think of anything that’s worth more
than her.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 11

CASSANDRA

W ayne’s watching us with eager eyes. He hasn’t moved from

the corner he’s situated himself in for the last hour.
Christopher has found Arabella, and they’ve disappeared
somewhere into the crowd that’s squeezed into the abandoned Underground
station.
The platforms are gone so that it’s all one level and the tracks have been
covered with shallow plywood structures.
A couple of old tube carriages have been turned into bars. It’s dark,
grungy and it’s getting hotter by the second.
Like Wayne, Leo is on high alert, and so tense that he feels like a granite
statue behind me. With his hands on my waist and me pulled tight into him,
I can feel every dip and curve of his body on mine. And although I know
it’s not because he’s about to get down and dirty with me, I wish, I can’t
help that my entire body is buzzing and everything below my waist is
tightening.
God, I want him to dig his fingers deeper into my flesh and I want his
lips on me again. I don’t even care that we’re in a crowded place and in
plain sight.
The strobe lighting makes it impossible to tell how close people are, let
alone what they’re really doing.
“Will you relax?” Turning to face him, I growl into his ear, almost
knocking his cap off his head.
 His warm, earthy scent fills my lungs as I trail my hands over his arms
to his shoulders and then wrap my arms around his neck. His touch feels so
good as he loosens his hands around my waist and traces up my back
slowly.
Heat blazes from the tips of my toes to the top of my head as I tilt back
and the flat between my hips presses to Leo’s groin.
The strobing blue light with the shadow from the baseball hat makes his
green eyes look like a stormy lake. Wild, and so deep, I could drown in
them.
“Bullseye, remember?” I think he’s trying to soften his words with the
press of his lips to my forehead, but really, all it does is bring him closer
and I have to swallow down the urge to press my body so flush to his that
my heart might leap to his.
“Let Wayne do his job, and you can…” My mouth dries as the words
form in my thoughts before I say them. And with that, the air around us
thickens, making it hard to breathe as his eyes study my lips closely. I pull
his cap off, and when he takes it from me, my fingers tangle in his hair
before I say, “You can touch me again.”
They’re brazen words, but the way his hand wraps around the length of
my hair and tugs, tilting my face to his. I can tell he likes them.
“Or are you still just going to watch me?” I ask. I intend on it being loud
and unabashed, but my voice quivers with how breathless the closeness
between us is making me.
Biting my victorious smile when his jaw clenches, I take in the way his
nostrils flare and I realise that I like getting under his skin and pushing his
buttons. And I fucking love that he’s fighting to hold on to his own control.
The power it makes me feel is unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s a
power I’m slowly discovering, because it’s only in his surprisingly
vulnerable state that he’ll let me take that control he holds on to so tight.
Stiffening as I shimmy closer, my arms hanging tighter around his
shoulders so that our chests are practically pressed to one another, his hands
wind tightly into my hair and pull. The hard tug pulls me back, but I force
myself closer, until our bodies are moulded to one another completely.
“Don’t you want to dance with me, Leo?” Teasingly, I breathe into his
ear, swaying my hips to the deep beat of music. I feel him everywhere. In
the places he’s touching me and the places I want him to.
 Leo’s touch sinks deep regardless of how hard or soft it is. It’s
something completely new to me, and it doesn’t matter how innocent it is, it
always has the same result. Unrelenting and insatiable desire.
One of his legs pushes between mine and I struggle to hold myself
upright as his thick, muscled thigh tucks into the apex of mine. The friction
of our bodies rubbing, the scratch of his stubble on my cheek as he moves
has the heat coursing through me pooling between my legs.
Choking on my breath, I hold on tighter to him, and just as my fingers
curl deeper into the hair at his crown, he fists my lengths so tight that I am
completely under his control. I cannot move unless he allows me to, I am
truly a puppet on his strings.

TAKING a moment to savour the cool air being pumped into the carriage
bar, I pull a long, cool gulp of it into my lungs. It’s surprising how quiet it is
in here, considering how packed it is out on the platform. I like it though,
because the brighter light allows me to see Leo better.
His face is flushed from the dancing, his hair is all messy and sweaty. I
like it. I love the way he looks all roughed up with his shirt tied around his
hips and his white T-shirt sticking to his body.
Quirking his brow, he grins at me as he takes the small bottles of water
the bartender hands him. And as he saunters back to the muted corner he
left me standing in. I swear I can smell him on me with every intake of
breath.
“Thirsty?” he asks, when he reaches me. Opening the bottle, he hands it
to me with a raspy command, “Drink.”
“Are you always this bo…” Looking up at him my words come to an
abrupt halt.
Oh Jesus.
Leo’s gulping down his water so fast that I can’t help but watch the way
his Adam’s apple bobs with every swallow. The longer I watch him the
more I salivate and I’m sure that by the time he’s done I won’t need the
water in my hand anymore.
“Always this what?” he asks, squashing his plastic bottle and screwing
the lid back on.
 “Bossy?” My reply sounds more like a question with how squealy it
sounds.
“Always.” Eyes peering into mine, he lifts the water in my hand,
bringing it to my lips before he says, “Now, drink.”
I do as I’m told because I can’t think of a comeback with the way he’s
looking at me and with how close we are. Leo’s stomach is pressed up to
mine and as I drink, he throws his bottle in the bin to our right.
When I finish, he takes my bottle and screws the lid back on. I can’t
help but watch the way his hands move. His fingers are long and thick, and
his hands look so smooth with just a barely there sprinkle of hair on the top.
Taking his black cap out of his back pocket, he swaps it for my water
bottle before pulling it onto his head. I’ve never been one for hats, but I
have to admit, that on him…I’m a fan.
“What now?” Picking me up and perching me on one of the padded
sides, he brings his face closer to mine, tilting it when the tongue of his cap
gets in the way.
“You kiss me.”
“Who’s bossy now, little girl?”
Raising my face, I tell him, “I’m not a little girl.” It comes out so
breathy that it’s more of a loud whisper, and I’m surprised when he hears it
with how the base is rattling the place.
Grinning, he touches the tip of his nose to mine as his hands brace by
my hips. “You’re my little girl.”
“Why?” I barely manage to breathe with the way he’s running his nose
over my cheekbones. It doesn’t make sense, I’m not little in any shape or
form.
All of a sudden it feels just as stifling hot in here as it did on the
dancefloor.
“Why?” Murmuring into my ear, he leans down, lowering himself over
me so that we’re chest to chest and then his lips are only a whisper away
from mine. “Because I say so.”
I don’t get a chance to reply, his lips come down on mine so hard that
the force plasters me to the side of the carriage. Teeth sinking into my lip,
he pulls it into his mouth with a hungry groan that vibrates all the way
down to my core.
The only thing I can do is open my mouth to him and brace myself so I
don’t collapse onto him as his tongue duels with mine, licking and stroking
every nook and cranny. Until all I can taste is him; sweet vanilla and sour
cherry with the tiniest hint of clove.
And God, he feels so much more than good. Leo feels like everything
I’ve waited for my whole life. Every beautiful dream and every dirty
fantasy.
Pulling away a tad, he licks my top lip before dropping a kiss to the tip
of my nose. “Want to leave yet?”
I’m still breathless, my heart is stampeding in my chest and the only
answer I can manage is a shaky nod because as much as I’ve been wishing
for it, I didn’t think he was going to ask me to leave with him.
At least I assume that’s what he’s asking, and if it is…shit, I’m not sure
what I should say. Leo knows what he’s doing and I…I don’t. All I know is
what I want, and whilst I’m trying to figure out how to get it, I don’t know
whether he’ll want to help me with that.
I hope he does.
“We don’t have to leave if you don’t want to, but the crowd is getting a
bit rough and grungy now.” The gentleness with which he brushes my
sweaty hair from my face is completely at odds with the fierce look in his
eyes. I’d be a fool to think that Leo is a man that is simple to figure out, but
I want to. I want to learn all there is to him and I want to give him all my
time. And time is such a precious thing, you never know when it’s going to
be up.
I’d never thought about the day my grandfather wouldn’t be here
anymore, and then one morning, I woke up and he was gone. Tears prickle
the back of my eyes, and for the umpteenth time, I wish I’d had the chance
to say goodbye.
Goodbye.
There’s this niggling panic in my chest for when I have to part with Leo
tonight, and I’m scared that tomorrow he’ll go back to watching me from a
distance and ignoring me.
That idea makes me want to keep him here until we are made to leave.
Taking a step back as I stand, his gaze trails my face until it finds mine
again. I have to gather every bit of strength inside of me to take a deep
breath and ask, “What happens after tonight?”
The silent pause as I wait for him to answer feels like the longest
moment, and when he parts his lips to speak but nothing comes out, fuck, it
hurts.
 It’s a rejection I’ve never felt before and it’s crippling.
“Cassie…”
“You said you couldn’t watch anymore.” My reminder earns me a
gentle smile.
“I can’t.”
“Then what happens next?”
“I’m trying to do the right thing for you, Buttercup.”
“Screw the right thing, Leo, what do you want?” My palpable
desperation and frustration should make me cringe. I should feel
embarrassed and I know that it probably makes me look like a whiney little
girl, but I just want to know what this means.
Rolling his lips between his teeth, it feels like he’s studying me, and just
when I’m telling myself that his answer is never going to come, he says, “I
want to keep you.”
Shock, awe, and relief. Those are the first feelings to flood me. Shock,
because he actually answered. Awe, that he wants me too. And the relief
that I won’t have to pretend tonight didn’t happen. That he didn’t kiss me
and touch me like he has.
This time when he kisses me again, it’s softer and his hands circle my
waist like he knows I’m about to lose my ability to stand, and I need him to
hold me up.
Peeking through my lashes, I’m taken by the way his closed eyes
crinkle at the edges. He’s so beautiful even with the scar over his brow.
Every little thing about him fills me with wonder, because I don’t think he
realises how wonderful he is, even with his standoffish ways.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 12

CASSANDRA

T he line for the loos has finally died down and as we wait for
the last group of women to come out of the makeshift toilets
Leo’s still holding me so close that it’s starting to feel like
we’re melded together. I like it.
Honestly, I thought that when we got back to our group that he would
put space between us, I didn’t have him pegged as a touchy kind of guy, but
he’s proving me wrong and again, I’m enjoying it. I’m loving these little
titbits I’m learning about him.
The portable toilets have been lined up with the right side being for the
ladies and the left for the men and two grate separators create a queueing
area that’s getting quiet as the rave is starting to wind down. It’s almost four
in the morning, and most of the people left are either on something or too
out of sorts to take on the two-hundred plus steps it took to get down here.
“God, I’m glad I went with these, my feet would’ve been dead by now!”
Fleur wriggles her Doc Martens and cringes when she realises her frilly
socks are filthy. “I guess it’s a sign of a good night.” Shrugging, she shakes
her head and goes back to her step and shuffle to the music. Her messy
waved bob has gone lax from the humid heat in the place and the strands
sway about her face wildly.
It’s one of the things I love about Fleur, she likes a drink, but her
sobriety level doesn’t affect her good time.
“Yeah, I’m glad I listened to Christopher because barefoot isn’t an
option down here and the heels I was wearing were like bondage vices.”
Arabella tilts her head back onto Christopher’s chest and smiles at him.
Together they look like one of those illustrations you get in the opposites
books.
“Oh yeah, because Mum and I hadn’t told you before he called to
remind you about practical footwear.” Her brother, Casper, ruffles her hair
and when she kicks at him and misses, she flips him the bird.
Arabella’s normally very well put together. Not a strand of her hair is
amiss, but tonight her neat hair is crimping at the roots with frizz, making
her look younger.
“If you weren’t the resident dickhead, I’d listen to you.”
“Ohooooo,” he teases her before taking a swig of his water. His dark
hair and dark eyes glimmer with mischief and his broad chest wracks with
his laughter.
Casper Gladstone isn’t exactly what you would expect from an elite
schooled individual, let alone the son of a Deputy Prime Minister. But, he
and Christopher have been friends since their days at boarding school and
even though Casper signed up for military service after he finished his
degree, they are inseparable now that he’s back from Syria.
“Defend my honour!” Slapping Christopher on the shoulder, Arabella
gives him the stink eye, even though all he does is try to keep a straight face
in vain as he replies, “I’m not getting involved.”
“Useless!” she huffs, her chuckle making it obvious that she’s joking.
“Are you sure you want to use these toilets? There’s a Golden Arches
down the road that’s open twenty-four hours, we can grab sustenance too.”
Taking in my grimace, Christopher adds, “There’s a BK for you.”
“God, Burger King sounds so good.” My stomach rumbles at the
mention of food, and water immediately pools in my mouth.
“You don’t eat McDonalds?” Leo asks, peering down at me.
“I like their fries, but burgers have to be from BK. No one does burgers
like them, not even fancy places.” I’m about to go into all the reasons why,
when his face softens and the warmest smile spreads across his lips. I’m not
sure why he’s looking at me like that, with some kind of wonder, but it’s
making me fill up with the most wonderful fluttery butterflies. Inside I feel
like a peak summer’s day, so hot that I might bake. “What?”
Shaking his head, the wonder on his face morphs into awe, and he looks
so different. Not in a physical beauty kind of way, there’s so much light
behind his eyes that they look foamy green, like tropical sea waves. I want
to bathe in their light forever.
“Nothing,” he says after a beat, his voice is so soft that it’s almost
inaudible over the music.
“Are you coming or what?” Popping our bubble, Fleur pokes my arm as
she asks and when I’m about to go, Leo pulls me back.
I think he might kiss me in front of everyone, but instead his hand
strokes down my back to the top of my butt as, he says, “Don’t be too
long.”
“Are we back to bossy again?”
“Always.”
Laughing I manage pull away from him. “I’ll be right back.”
Forcing myself not to look back I go through the small maze of grates to
get to the loos. And they are as bad as I expected them to be. The floor is
slippery with spilled drinks, the air is pungent with souring alcohol and
stale pee. It’s gross and I’m almost tempted to turn back and hold my
bladder until we find somewhere better.
However, I’ve spent the night holding it and refusing to leave Leo, and
now I’m so desperate that I can overlook the conditions.
“So,” Fleur starts, as she takes a good look at the toilet she’s in, door
wide open, as I stand outside. “You and Leo look cosy.”
“Do we?” I tease her.
“If you play that evasive crap on me, I’m going to kidney jab you!” she
grits, pinching her nose with a disgusted grimace.
“God, people are dirty. Can you pass me some of those hand tissues?”
Poking her head out of her stall, Arabella asks, and then as I grab a wad of
the tissues and hand them to her, she adds, “You look cute together.”
My insides twist and pull at this because this is the first time anyone has
referred to Leo and me as together, and even though we haven’t exactly
said we’re a thing, he did say he wanted to keep me, so…
“We do?”
“Seriously, can you use other words apart from we and do and do and
we?” Fleur huffs as she finishes lining the toilet with toilet tissue and before
I make it to the third stall she asks, “Can you hold the door; you know I
hate locking myself in these things.”
Her fear of tightly confined spaces is so bad that she would leave the
door wide open for anyone to see her rather than locking it, and although I
need to go myself, I help her first.
“So, spill!” she yells from inside her loo. Arabella adds, “He likes you. I
can tell.”
The butterflies are back with a vengeance and I feel so full that my
organs are a little achy.
“You can?”
“He’s here when it’s probably the last place he wants to be with Kit
being in hospital and all.”
“Who’s Kit?” Yelling from inside her cubicle, Fleur pushes the door, so
I let it open and then she washes her hands. “Why is he in hospital?”
The look on Arabella’s face as she comes to join us is so sad that she
looks like she might cry.
“Leo’s brother, he’s in a coma.” Her brittle words are followed by a
deep sigh and swallow, and I can’t help the sadness I feel on her behalf and
for Leo.
I feel like a horrid person for coercing him here when this must be the
last place he wants to be. “Is he going to be okay?”
Arabella’s shrug is coupled with a shake of her head, like there’s a tiny
chance but mostly she doesn’t think so. “I hope so, he’s my partner in
crime.”
Stepping closer, Fleur brushes Arabella’s hair with affection she
reserves for the people closest to her and linking their arms, she bumps
Arabella’s hip lightly with hers and starts to head back to the guys without
another question.
“I need to go too!” It’s only when they reach the exit that I remember
that I’m moments away from peeing myself. “I’ll meet you back out there.”
I nip into the loo and squat awkwardly because the space is so tight that
you need to hold on to something for support, but it’s also so dirty that you
don’t want to touch anything. Finishing as quick as I can, I wash my hands,
my thoughts of Leo and my excitement cocooning me in my own little
heavenly bubble.
I want to keep you. That’s the only thing I can hear, and I can’t control
the excitement that buzzes inside me as it repeats in my head.
This is the happiest I’ve felt in so long, and it’s the first time that my
heart has felt like this. Like it’s really doing something worthwhile, not just
keeping me alive, but feeling.
 Using a piece of toilet tissue, I unlock the cubicle door, and when I look
up after dropping it in the toilet, I freeze.
Dread and panic render me immobile, my throat swells and makes it
impossible for me to scream as the menacing man advances on me, one of
his fingers pressed to his lips as he waves a small gun in his other hand.
As he reaches me, I flit through all the ways to defend myself that
Wayne has taught me over the years, but it’s pointless because I can’t
correlate my thoughts with my actions. Instead I feel like I’m spinning, like
I’m caught in a whirlpool going down a drain and there’s nothing I can hold
on to.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
I blink once and then again, to make sure I’m not seeing things. That my
eyes and my newfound paranoia aren’t tricking me because it’s all in my
head and no one was watching me...

Oh God.
Do not cry. Don’t show weakness. Stay Strong. Don’t fight, unless you can
beat them.

I tell myself all the things Wayne has told me over the years in case I
found myself in this situation.
It’ll be okay. I’ll always find you.
I believed that like it was gospel, but now, it feels like lies.
“Move!” The sharp command is followed by a rough tug that has a
scream ripping out of me as I trip over my feet and land awkwardly on the
uncovered tracks.
He’s going to kill me, I swear it, as he points the barrel of his gun at my
head, but as I put my hand in front of it, he grabs my wrist, and pulls me
over his shoulder.
My arm and leg throb from the way I fell and as I jostle on his shoulder,
I can’t get enough breath to scream. All I can do is watch as darkness
swallows the dim light from the platform with his sprint.
It’s then that Leo’s words finally sink in.
You’re walking around with a big fucking bullseye on your head.
Don’t go tonight.
Don’t make it easy for them.
Big fucking bullseye.
It’s too late to listen now. My time might be up.
I’m going to die.
Oh God, I’m going to die.
I don’t want to. I’m not ready.

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 Chapter 13

LEO

I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here as I put my shirt back on
and button it up. Most of the people left are either too drunk or
off their fucking nut, and that’s asking for trouble.
“I thought it was nothing.” Casper laughs as we stand waiting for the
girls to get back. “It doesn’t look like it though. Whatever it is you and
Cassie have going looks like something.”
Looking up at him, I can’t lie. He knows it too with the way he’s
looking at me.
“It wasn’t anything then.”
“Yeah, of course. Every fucking guy throws a girl over his shoulder and
stomps off with her for no fucking reason.”
“What do you want?”
“Me?” Laughing he crosses his arms over his chest. Standing in that
way that makes him look like the GI Joe he is. “I don’t want shit. But she
does.”
Fleur is making a beeline for us as Arabella heads straight for
Christopher, and I know what’s coming before she even looks at me.
“Fuck.” Groaning, I search behind her for Cassie. When I don’t find her,
my chest tightens and my feet start carrying me towards the makeshift
toilet.
“Oh shit. Where are you going?” Casper chuckles as she stops in front
of me with fight burning in her eyes.
I try to move around her but she steps with me, blocking my way.
 “Hey, big man.”
I can tell she’s been dying for this moment.
“Where’s Cassie?”
“In the toilet,” she says sarcastically. “But now that we have a
moment…”
Hurry up! I think as she takes a deep breath.
“Don’t. Fucking. Hurt. Her.”
Waiting for her to carry on, I flicker my eyes between her and the
entrance to the toilet.
“That’s i—” The scream from the other side of the barriers shuts her up
and has her moving out of the way when I move for the toilet.
My heart rips down my chest into my stomach with every
motherfucking twist and turn I make before I reach the open toilet space
followed by Christopher and Wayne.
“Cassie!” Christopher yells, and when the only thing I can hear is the
echo of his voice I shout her name as loud as I can, letting it rip out of me.
“Cassandra!”
“The toilets are empty,” Wayne growls, “she’s gone.”
No. No, no, no…no fucking way.
“CASSIE!” I frantically call her name as the image of my brother’s
barely recognizable face enters my head.
Running into the dark tunnel it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
Everything is dark and sooty. The farther into the dark I get the quieter it
becomes, and I lose count of the number of times I think I hear her scream
again only to realise it’s in my head. Still ringing in my ears.
I’m replaying it like it’s going to help me find her, but she’s gone and all
I can do is yell for her again, “Cass! Cassie! CASSIE!”
But there’s nothing. Nothing but polluted air that feels thicker than oil.
There’s nothing but the sound of her screams in my head and the sound of
my blood rushing in my veins.
“We need to go back,” Christopher says beside me. “We need light and,
fuck! We need to find her, Leo.”
“I know.”
The anger inside me is making me shake, and my body is like a cage
that I can’t break free from. The more I push it the more it fights me. But
I’m not losing Cassie, I can’t, so I fight harder, and I’ll keep doing it until I
find her.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 14

CASSANDRA

I don’t want to die.

The more I chant the words in my head the harder I gasp for
breath, and when he finally puts me down in front of another
dark tunnel, tears spring to my eyes.
It doesn’t matter which direction I look in, it’s all dark now. And not the
good kind of dark where there’s peace and quiet. Or the kind that belongs in
powerful green eyes. This darkness is chilling.
“Move.” Pressing the gun to my head, he pushes me forward until I
stumble through the thick, sooty gate. Turning, I can’t see past my assailant.
He’s so wide and tall, I didn’t notice those things before. But now that I
have, my panic multiplies because in the back of my head I had visions of
Leo, Wayne, and Christopher finding me. I had hopes of this man getting
his comeuppance.
Now? I keep asking myself, why didn’t I listen?
Leo warned me. He told me not to come. Not to leave his side.
I’m not going to see him again, that’s all that’s running through my head
as I get yanked back around and pushed up against the rough, crumbling
brick wall, my knees buckling with the force of his hand.
“Pity you have to be message, huh?” There’s a snivelling quality to the
man’s voice that makes my stomach turn. “I could do many things with
you.”
The menacing edge of his chuckle petrifies me to the point that I feel
like a child scared of the monsters under her bed.
 “Beautiful, with little girl body.” He laughs darkly, the muzzle of the
gun sliding from the base of my skull down my neck, between my shoulder
blades.
It keeps going down, down, down, until it’s between my legs, hoisting
my clothes up and the barrel is flush between them.
“CASS!” Leo’s voice gets closer and a flurry of promise floats in my
chest.
He’s coming for me. He’s going to find me.
“CASSIE!” His voice breaks and my fledgling hope breaks with it.
“So close. Not close enough.” The monster holding me grunts gruffly,
pushing me flat to the brick wall until the side of my face is grating on the
rough bricks.
There are too many things that can happen next. Too many possible
scenarios I refuse to take myself through.
Out of nowhere the words run through my head and I pray them with
my eyes screwed shut. I say each word as clearly as I was taught at school
and through catechism.
Mary, Mother of grace, Mother of mercy, shield me from the enemy and
receive me at the hour of my death. Amen.
Mary, Mother of grace, Mother of mercy, shield me from the enemy and
receive me at the hour of my death. Amen.
I keep going, the voice in my head getting louder as my nails claw at the
wall. Prayer, pain, and stained-glass window green eyes, that’s all there is
until one ear-splitting, thunderous crack echoes around me, followed by
another and another.
Shrill pain cuts through the inside of my thigh like a hot blade slicing
my flesh. My body sags against the cold wall and I’m sliding down it. My
face scraping down the wet cement until I’m huddled on the floor. A numb
heap as more shots echo around me.
Cold. Mute. Blind. I can’t find the strength to pull myself together. All I
can do is shiver.
“Fuck!” Wayne’s loud curse resounds low in my ringing ears. “Fucking
stop!”
A loud clunk rattles by my face before warm hands cup my cheeks and
brush through my tangled hair. Big, strong hands that hook under my
armpits and draw me to an equally warm chest.
 “Let me look at you, Buttercup.” Rasping with gruff desperation, Leo
strokes my sore cheek. The beat of his heart is angry and as I burrow into
his chest, he holds my aching body tighter. “Let me see you’re okay, baby,
please.”
I can only manage a protesting groan as he pulls me away from him to
inspect me, I’m barely able hold my own head up. All I want is for him to
hold me as tightly as he can and never let me go.
“Someone give me some fucking light!” he growls loudly, his fingers
brushing my hair back from my face repeatedly.
Although my eyes are closed, I know when his demand is met because
my eyelids light up and burnish like I’m lying in the sun.
His hands continue to urgently brush my hair until he’s chanting
breathlessly, “You’re okay. You’re okay…”
The way his voice is shaking with relief and rage, it makes my chest
tighten to the point I can’t breathe, and my eyes burn with choked tears that
never come.
“I thought…Oh God, I thought…” Kissing my face, Leo squeezes me
so tight to his chest that my bones and joints wince.
Oddly though, my lungs relax, and I gulp as much air as I can.
“Fuuuuck man, did you want to make any more mess?” Casper’s
gravelly voice filters through the fuzz in my head, and when I try to look
up, Leo stops me.
“It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Yeah, well,” Casper’s voice grows closer and I find myself shrinking
into Leo. “You need to get her out of here.”
Leo takes in a deep breath before his arms tighten around me and he
begins to move to get up. I’m not ready to go out there yet, my mind is still
wrapping around what’s happening and how close I came to— It doesn’t
matter that I shut the thought off, my chest caves and my inability to
breathe makes me panic.
“Let me go,” I barely recognise my hoarse, exhausted voice. And it’s
funny because I don’t feel tired. My body is shaking, and my heart is
thrumming wildly. I feel like I could run the London marathon in record
time.
I’m fine. Except all of a sudden, everything feels like too much. There’s
too many footsteps and voices and not enough air. The space is shrinking
around me and it doesn’t matter how much I want Leo to hold me, right
now, it’s too much.
My skin is crawling and I’m hurting all over, my arm, my thigh, and
God, I can still feel the barrel of the gun pressed between my legs.
Fighting his hold, I scuttle off his lap, but when I prop myself up against
the wall and my hazy vision clears, I don’t know what to do.
A scream swells in my throat and sticks. I don’t know whether it’s fear,
disgust, or anger. But it’s choking me.
That faceless man lying on the ground, in a pool of his blood, hurt me.
His blood-covered face makes me cringe, and when I see the wide, shining,
seeping well on his forehead, right above his left brow, I gasp in horror.
“Oh Jesus. Fuck. Oh God.” I can’t take my eyes off him, and although
in the back of my mind I’m aware I shouldn’t feel relieved at the sight, I
feel it trickle into my veins. Warming me like hot magma under the surface
of the earth.
That could’ve been me.
That man wanted to hurt me. He was going to kill me.
Now, he is dead.
When I look towards Leo, the pressure in my chest loosens. Brows
pressing together tight like his lips, the way in which he’s looking at me
makes me scoot closer to where he’s sat. My legs touch his wide open ones,
and that contact alone is enough to make me feel safe.
“I thought he was going to kill you.” He murmurs breathlessly, and even
through the dark, sharp edge of his words. Even through the menacing, icy
depth of his voice, I can hear fear.
I have no idea why he would be scared. He wasn’t the one with the gun
to his head. He wasn’t the one being touched by a complete stranger.
With eyes flitting between me and the body on the ground, Leo’s jaw
clenches so tight that I know he must be hurting his teeth and bones. His
muscles and tissues must be burning with how tightly he is grinding his
teeth.
Is this what happened to his brother?
I can’t ask the question out loud. I can’t bring myself to ruin him
anymore than he already looks. The way only a dark creature can look
broken and damaged. He looks like a ticking bomb.
Tick. Tick, tick, tick.
 I have no idea when he’s going to blow, but when he does, I know that
he’ll take me with him.
When he looks at me with equal parts hatred and pain, I can see the
answer to my silent question etched all over his face like it’s an echo from
the depths of his soul.
My heart, that I thought was hardening with the cooling lava that is my
every emotion right now, thuds for him. It keens in fist tight throbs.
“I thought…” he shakes his head and his hand wraps around mine on
the ground. “I lost my temper and I had a gun in my hand. It seemed like
the right thing to do.”
The next words out of my mouth startle me, because who am I? Who is
this person thinking them?
“He deserved it.” I mutter coarsely, dryly.
Furrowing, the deep set of his eyes softens in spite of the searing, glassy
fire burning there. Something like regret flits across his face and morphs
into a remorseful tenderness that has me shuffling impossibly closer to his
side.
“Where is she?” Christopher steps right in front of me and crouches.
“You doing okay, Cass?”
Looking up at him, I can’t help but notice how he’s as cool as a
cucumber in an ice bath. His brown gaze narrows on me, and there’s
nothing but calculation there. He’s trying to figure out whether I’m going to
freak or not.
It’s too late though. I already freaked about a lot of things, but not this.
No. The man lying on the ground is poetic justice.
“He was a monster.” I say, mostly to Leo because he’s the one that looks
like he needs the assurance the most but when Casper laughs, I look up at
him.
He looks completely unfazed as he looks over the body on the ground.
“You’re wrong, Princess, we are the monsters.” Casper says matter of fact.
It’s no skin off his nose, I detect a hint of pride in his tone.
“We’re the monsters.” I whisper.
I do it so low that I don’t think it’s possible for any of them to hear me.
However, I know that’s not the case when Leo tilts his head back on the
wall and turns to look at me.
There’s pity right there, in the way his eyes flutter.
 “Yes, Buttercup,” he suspires, his hand squeezing mine a little harder
like he’s trying to make sure I don’t run.
I look between the two men, one sitting beside me and the other
standing in front of me.
Casper crouches in front of me. His hands pause on my legs for a tick of
a second and then lift to hang from his thighs when Leo growls beside me.
He’s chuckling as he says, “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
Pushing up to his feet beside me, he hoists me up in his arms. The arm
across my back brings me closer to his body so that my head is tucked into
his shoulder as I sag into his body with my arms wrapped around his
shoulders.
I know that I shouldn’t want to be so close to him. I know that I should
put space between us. He just killed a man after all, but that doesn’t
remotely bother me as much as the thought of not having him right now.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 15

LEO

T he fury clawing at my insides is barely containable. Fuck,

I’m not containing it, I’m holding so tightly on to it that
when I find my cunt of a dad and cousin, I’m going to flay
them alive. I’ll peel their skin layer by layer, slowly. Limb by limb, until
they’re in the hell I’m in.
Listening to Francis when Kit was left for dead was my biggest
motherfucking mistake. Fuck the plan, I should’ve hunted them down and
drowned them like the fucking vermin they are.
This wouldn’t be happening right now. We wouldn’t be here; my
Buttercup wouldn’t be bleeding. She wouldn’t be hurt and scared. None of
this would have touched her.
“Leo!” Christopher is chasing behind me, but I’m on auto-pilot and the
only thing that matters right now is getting Cassie out of here. Making sure
she’s okay. “Stop!”
Fuck you! Fuck all of you for doing this to her. My beautiful little
flower.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” he shouts. When I ignore him, he shoots the
ground, as if to make a point.
Whimpering, Cassie tightens her arms around me in the semi darkness.
“It’s okay, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I vow into her bloodied hair
and tighten my hold to the point my muscles hurt.
This may be the only vow I ever make her, but it’s the only one that will
ever matter.
 I will never let her down on that front again. That’s the vow I make
myself, as I step to the side avoiding Francis.
It’s a good thing the platform is level with the rusted tracks, because I
can’t put her down. Letting her go isn’t something I can do right now, not
when I’m not certain she’s fine. Or when she’s the pin that’s stopping me
from blowing.
Cassie’s shivering violently, and I curse myself for not having a coat or
a jacket, anything to wrap her in. I just have my arms and they’re not
enough.
Pausing as Arabella steps in front of me with Fleur and two of Wayne’s
men, I take no comfort from the remorseful look on her face.
“Move, Bella.”
“Leo.” She’s looking at me with tears in her eyes and pity.
Fuck her pity and remorse.
“I. Said. Move.” Snarling at her, I hate myself a little more as her tears
roll down her cheeks. She’s my friend, I don’t want to hurt her, but my
priority right now is the girl in my arms. “Get out of my way. Please.”
She doesn’t, and I have no idea what to do because I have two fucking
hench blokes blocking my only way out behind her.
“Give her to me!” Christopher’s yell is full of desperation and guilt.
“Cassie?” Fleur steps between us and strokes the least bloody bit of her
hair. “There’s so much blood.” She whispers, looking up at me askance.
“It’s not hers.”
“Good.” Her breath rushes out of her with relief. “Babe?”
“I want to go now.” Cassie says so low that it’s barely audible.
“Okay,” Fleur whispers, stroking the top of Cassie’s thigh, and
shuddering when Cassie cringes. Fleur’s eyes widen at the blood on her
fingers, because that is Cassie’s.
It’s still warm and clotting on her skin.
“Give me my sister, now!” Christopher growls as he rounds us and tries
to pry Cassie from me.
Not going to happen.
“Give her to me.”
“Move.” I grit one more time. If he makes me put her down to move
him, I’ll fucking kill him too.
Pulling herself straight, like she knows my thoughts, Cassandra says,
“Get out of the way, Christopher.”
 The hard and unwavering tone of her words takes him aback, because to
her family she’s a pampered princess. To me, she’s a queen—Cassandra
Sinclair is a beautiful storm. You don’t see her coming until she hits, and
then you’re ruined. I know this first hand. It’s the reason I’m standing in the
middle of a goddamn rave. A scene I couldn’t give two fucks to be a part of.
“Now,” she grits, dropping the arm that’s across the front of my
shoulders, she pushes him away and I start for the stairs.
Wayne’s guys refuse to move, until Francis reaches us.
“You need to put that back on.” Speaking to me, he lays his long wool
coat over her, he strokes Cassie’s cheek with a softness that I’ve never seen
from him.
And as her eyes fill with burgeoning tears, my black heart bleeds for
her. The smudged blood on her face from my hands is completely dry, it
cracks and flakes with the rake of his fingertips on her pale peachy skin.
“I let you down,” he says more to himself than to her. “I’m sorry,
Princess.”
Our eyes meet and his are just as shiny as hers, only hard set. I want to
hate him so fucking much, but I can’t. And I despise myself for it because
he’s the devil and all the angels in one fucking being. His sins are sacred
like the word of God itself.
“Take her home.” He tells me, it’s a request not an order. “Wayne will
take you.” Leaning closer, he continues in a hushed tone as he lifts my T-
shirt and tucks his own gun into my belt, “Use it if you need to. No one
touches her again, understand?”
Good. He’s finally seeing things my way.
Gripping Cassie tighter as she tries to get down, I take the first step
towards the exit.
“I want to walk,” she says with pride lacing her voice. “I walked in and
I am going to walk out.”
That’s my girl. But, in the state she’s in, there’s no way that’s going to
happen either. She’s in shock and her body is still trembling, her thigh needs
to be seen to…
“I’m not letting you go again, Buttercup.”
CASSIE’S SETTLED into the seat with her feet on my lap as Wayne drives
us towards my apartment. She was adamant she didn’t want to go back to
her house tonight. Quite frankly, I couldn’t bear to drop her off and leave.
It’s quiet and her eyes are closed, her breathing is even. I think she’s
asleep. The shock has wiped her out.
Working off her boots, I take in the grazes on her knee, the faint bruise
on her ankle and anger turns over inside me again, like a powerful engine.
My heart is beating so hard and so fast that I can barely hear Wayne.
“Son, you need to rein yourself in. You’re going to get the pair of you
killed.” His voice is low, but the grit behind his words is enough to tell me
he’s pissed with me.
“I had to do it.” I say, rubbing Cassie’s legs. They’re so smooth, her skin
is so fucking soft.
I wonder if it’s this soft everywhere. I push the coat she’s tucked under
higher up her legs until I can see the cut on the inside of her thigh. It’s
stopped bleeding, already crusting over nicely.
Her lacy black underwear peeks from beneath the hem of her short dress
and I have to pry my eyes away.
I want this girl so fucking bad that my need aches inside me.
“You made a choice, like I did.” Wayne sighs.
“There is no choice when it comes to her!” My voice is louder than I
intended with my frustration, because he should know how impossible it is
choosing anything other than Cassie, her safety, her life.
There’s a heavy, sighing pause and then he says, “I understand that,
Leo, but…once you take a life there’s no going back. I swore to Rosie I
wouldn’t let you get into anything.”
“I’m not your responsibility and Mum needs to accept the choice I’ve
made; I’ve waited so long for this.”
“You think I haven’t?” His eyes flash to mine in the rear-view mirror,
anger burning bright in them. “I’ve waited longer than you know. But I’ve
never put your mother in danger because I couldn’t control myself. If you
can’t do that, then you’re no better than Lucian.”
“Maybe I’m not.” She stirs as I run my hands down her long legs until I
reach her feet. Her toes are black with dirt from the open toes of her boots.
“You need to be. I’ve known that girl all her life, Leo. I’ve protected her
since before she was born, and she is everything that’s good about this
world.”
 I know that. I think, taking in her beautiful, doll face.
“Wayne?”
“Son.”
“I’ll protect her with everything I have. If it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Our eyes meet in his rear-view mirror.
“That’s what I’m here for,” he scowls.
“It’s not enough anymore, not after tonight.” Saying those words out
loud is excruciating. “She needs to know the truth. The whole truth.”
“Sometimes, protecting the people we love means protecting them from
the truth.”
Love.
Love always leads to loss.
I don’t want to lose Cassie, I feel like I only just have her.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 16

CASSANDRA

J olting awake when Leo takes me from the car, it takes a

moment for the events of tonight to rush me again. As he
carries me into his building, Wayne follows behind. A soft
smile lights his face when his gaze meets mine.
Tears sting my eyes when they find his gun. It looks so much like the
one pointed at me that it could be the same one. My chest tightens and
together with the chokehold of Leo’s arms—I can’t breathe. I need space.
“I need you to put me down.” Murmuring into his ear, I can’t fight the
strength of his arms when he squeezes them.
“Cassie...” his breath hitches in his throat, sounding pained and when I
tuck my face into his neck he whispers, “I can’t let go again. Don’t make
me.”
Those words sink into my chest and wrap around my heart. As he keeps
holding on like he has all the strength in the world, I feel its comfort and
safety warm every inch of me.
“You two wait here until I say it’s safe.” The lift doors slide open and
Wayne gets out ahead of us. His weapon at the ready as he looks around,
prepared to do whatever it takes to protect us.
It doesn’t take long before he gives us the all clear and Leo’s walking
me through his door and down the hall. The jostle of his movements is
lulling and it’s only when he stops in the middle of the bright double height,
open plan living area that I look up as he growls.
“Toby! I’ve told you to stop eating the fucking cushions.”
 My eyes search the space for the source of the long whine before they
meet the large beast sat in a nest of down and tattered cushions. Looking up
at me, his tongue lolls to the side as he pants excitedly.
I can’t help but smile at the big sable Baloo. Considering his size and
stature, he’s graceful in his strides towards us. I’ve never seen a dog that big
and fluffy before.
How fitting. I’ve never known anyone like Leo either.
“Bad boy!” Leo starts moving again, and I drop my hand down towards
the dog. The minute I’m within reach his tongue is licking up my arm, over
the sleeve of my dress as he keeps up with Leo’s pace.
Big brown eyes round on mine before he comes to an abrupt stop when
Leo goes into another room. Toby starts to whine, softly at first but it
gradually becomes grumpier until it’s a grumble.
The room lights subtly at the press of a button and I can’t help but look
around as Leo walks us through. The cornices and skirting boards light up
with a soft ambient glow and apart from the massive bed and the chaise in
the corner, it’s all midnight blue walls and striking white accents and
details. Even the bedding is bright white, like it’s brand new.
It’s weird that in its bareness the room looks warm and cosy. The blocky
base of the bed is a dark walnut that blends into the dark wood flooring.
Looking at Leo I find him with his eyes glued to me, and even with
everything that’s happened, I can’t help but want him.
The more he holds me the more I want to feel his touch all over me. I
want him to make me forget about all the crap and overwhelm me in the
way only he can.
Toby continues grumbling as Leo takes me through the walk-in closet.
It’s just as minimal as the bedroom. The wardrobes are mirrored and the
island in the middle is a large walnut piece that sits on the cream carpet.
The place barely looks lived in. It’s that clean and tidy. Nothing’s on
show. I suspect everything is tucked away somewhere in a Ziploc bag or
labelled in some way.
Hmm, he’s a neat freak.
My thoughts stumble and go all crazy when he plops me on the counter
of the bathroom. Reaching to the side he turns the water on and taking his
time he looks me over. The grimace on his face makes me look away
because that’s not how I want him to look at me. I want him to see me in the
same way as when we were dancing, and I could feel his desire from the
way his eyes were locked on mine. Wanting more like me, not holding back
like he is now. Searching me for cuts, bruises, and all the things that could
be wrong.
I can’t watch him watching me like that. Instead I take in the
surroundings, the square tub is sunken into the matte white granite floor of
the large wet room. The brushed brass shower handles and the glass
partition between the shower and the tub have no watermarks. The massive
shower head that’s integrated into the ceiling is big enough to shower a
whole football team at once.
Still, I can’t ignore him for long, my gaze finds his and before I can stop
the surge of emotion erupting, it fills my eyes and pushes from my lips in a
sob that aches. My heart is racing as his breathing hastens, his hands cup
my face and the soothing strokes of his thumbs along my cheeks do nothing
to stop the burning tears or ease my hurting heart.
“It’s going to be okay, my beautiful girl.” Leaning down, he brushes my
matted hair back. With his face so very close to mine and his fingers
twirling my hair gently, it really does feel like it will be, but after tonight, I
don’t know if it’s possible, because like he said, I’m a target.
“Until the next time.”
There’s a silent pause where he’s taking me in, like this is the last time
he’ll ever see me or he’s trying to figure out what to say to make this better.
“There won’t be a next time.”
“Big motherfucking bullseye, remember?”
“You listen to me. I won’t let any fucker near you.”
“Leo.”
“What, Cassie?” Tightening on my jaw, his grasp betrays his anguish. “I
mean it—nobody touches you but me.”
Nodding, I close my eyes when his forehead meets mine. I don’t want to
argue with him, even if I know that his words aren’t promises he can keep,
right now, I want to allow myself to believe them.
“What happens now?”
“You let me look after you. Let me care for you…”
I open my eyes and when he sucks his lower lip into his mouth, I can’t
help but do the same, if only to stop the flutters in my tummy from turning
into an all-out groan.
He’s so good-looking, it’s heart-stopping. Leo’s also good at
manipulating situations into what he wants. I can’t let that happen here.
 “That’s not what I meant. What happens now? To you? To me? To
everyone…that man…you…” My voice is a gravelly whisper that has my
breath pushing out of me all at once.
“Your father and Casper are handling it. It’s what they do.”
“What they do?”
“It’s the reason we’re here…them. Me. They protect people. They clean
up messes no one wants to be seen near.” His chest is heaving, even with
the layers of clothes I can see the deep rise and fall of it. The way his
nostrils flare with every breath is making my chest tighten with conflicting
needs and wants.
This is all so much to take in and all I can think is that I want more of
everything…knowledge, Leo…everything.
Trailing his fingertips down my neck he takes a step back with a
longing sigh. “Let’s clean you up, Buttercup.”
Waiting until I give him a nod of approval he reaches for a washcloth
and wets it before pulling my father’s coat open. My blood throbs up to my
face when he lowers his stubbled chin, the tip of his nose skimming the
bridge of mine, as he parts my legs and stands between them.
“This is going to hurt.” He lightly sweeps the washcloth over the top of
my thigh. “It’s not deep, just a nasty graze.”
“It doesn’t hurt.” Not the way I expected it too. Maybe I’m still numb
from shock and overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight.
“Good.”
Leo carries on dabbing at the inside of my thigh and then my knees. His
beautiful face twists with concentration as he keeps cleaning my injuries
and rinsing the cloth.
I’ve never realised how noisy breathing can be until now. But the way
we sound makes me think of his kiss earlier and has me squirming on the
counter. The way his fingers trail my flesh, makes it impossible for me to
keep my hands at my sides. And when my hands close on his forearms, my
fingers digging into his skin like they’re trying to get under it, I press my
lips to his jaw.
Violent need whirls inside me, and before I can stop myself my lips trail
to the crook of his neck. He smells so good it’s intoxicating, water pools in
my mouth and I can’t help but have a taste.
Pressing my lips to the warm, soft patch of skin beneath his ear, it’s not
really the kiss that I intended because I can’t bring myself to remove my
lips from him long enough. Instead I rub my partially parted lips on the
same little bit of skin, again and again, until they are numb and gaping
enough that my teeth scrape his neck.
I’ve never done anything like this before, but the hammering pulse
beneath my heated skin, his crushing hold and his bruising fingertips tell me
he likes it as much as I do.
My tongue tentatively licks across my lips and his skin, and when his
scent becomes taste, my body heats in ways it never has before him. My
breathing picks up and I can feel the way his heart is drumming in his chest.
“Leo,” I whisper into his ear as my fingers twine in his hair.
There’s an audible pop from his lips followed by a choked gasp for
breath.
“You taste good,” I tell him before I swipe my tongue up his neck again
and this time he shudders.
Sinking my teeth lightly into the side of his throat, my lips close around
his flesh. Without thought I pull it into my mouth, moaning when he hisses
loudly.
“Fuck, Cass. Stop.” His flesh pops from my lips as he pulls away, eyes
darting between mine and then to the mirror behind me.
Fingers rubbing the mark I’ve left on his neck, his eyes narrow and one
of his brows quirks. I’m not sure what that quirk means, but his lips are
puckered. There’s no sign of a smile.
Moving fast, he throws the rag in his hand into the sink and then tugs
the coat down my arms, leaving it tangled at my wrists. It’s impossible to
move my arms.
My heart is pulsing frantically as he takes a step back to look at me. My
chest caves at the way his piercing gaze assesses my body.
“Is this what you really want, Cassandra?”
When he reaches for me, I have to force myself not to flinch because he
is exactly what I want, and I want him to make today better.
My reply is a garbled, barely understandable, “Yes,” and the minute he
has it, he doesn’t look back.
Fisting the shoulders of my dress, he makes a point of looking me in the
eyes when he tears the neckline and yanks it down my arms to join the coat.
I was already barely able to move before, but now my arms are stuck at my
sides in a way that makes my shoulder blades press out, my shoulder
sockets burning like they’re about to pop.
 Without warning, or mercy, he bites down on the soft, spongy flesh at
the nape of my neck.
I want to scream for all the pain that shoots through me, but I don’t
because every part of me is throbbing. Every nerve ending is sparking as I
feel myself grow wet.
My flesh stings as he sucks it into his mouth, tongue swirling over it
before his teeth sink so deep that they must break my skin.
“Leo. Leo. Leo…” I repeat his name until it becomes as loud as that
prayer I was screaming in my head earlier.
Loosening his bite, his hands wind in my hair before he goes back in.
My fingers are clawing at the stone counter. My arms are pulling at the
fabric cuffing them in place.
This fire I feel building right at the pit of my stomach is a delirious
thing. It’s making me drool. It’s making me shake. It’s making me need to
beg for more.
“Leo!” The breathy echo pushes through my lips as the sting morphs
into a burn, and I don’t just like it. The throb of his bite has my toes curling
and I can’t help but want more of it.
A hand drops from my hair and rounds to my arse, his fingertips dig in
deep, like his bite on my neck. I don’t want him to stop. No one has ever
touched me this way and the novelty mixed with the excitement is making
me lightheaded.
Unable to hold myself up any longer, my body sags into his and as he
pushes closer, his shoulders press to my chest until we are almost flush. His
guttural groan has me ready to explode.
Pulsing, my insides feel like an overfilled balloon, my skin too tight to
hold everything in. When he loosens his bite, his warm breath instantly
cools on my skin to the point that goose bumps erupt everywhere.
Leo’s gasping for breath and I am completely breathless.
“I should be taking care of you.” Shaking his head, he starts to pull
away.
I have no idea what comes over me, but I throw myself at him even
though I can’t move my arms to stop myself from falling, let alone grab
hold of him.
“You are.”
Leo catches me just as my feet touch the floor awkwardly. Pushing the
jacket to the ground he presses a kiss to my forehead, pulling the sleeves of
my dress off my arms.
Finally, able to move, my hands claw at him as I try to push his own
clothes off.
“You’re making it impossible.” He growls between clenched teeth, like
he’s fighting with himself. “I want to lick every square inch of you. I want
to mark you. I want to fuck you. I want to keep you.”
I’m startled for a moment and then something kicks into gear inside me
and I’m impatiently unbuttoning his shirt as quick as I can and pushing it
down his arms so that all that’s left is his blood-soaked T-shirt.
Swallowing the acid that bubbles up my throat as I recall how the blood
got there, I have to still my panic at what almost happened to me today.
Imagining all those scenarios I refused to think of earlier, the ones
where I am violated…where my skull is shattered, and my brain pulped.
The ones where I die alone.
My throat tightens and my head spins as I go down that rabbit hole I
didn’t want to. And before I can stop it, my body is locking in all the wrong
ways even though it’s trying to keep me up. I don’t remember ever being
this cold. Or this scared.
I don’t know when it happens, but Leo’s got me huddled in the corner of
the shower, and he’s backing away. His T-shirt is all wet and although the
spatters have run down on the fabric there’s a bloody pink tinge across one
of his shoulders where my head had rested. My eyes drift down his body to
his jeans that are stuck to his legs and then to the stone floor where his
boots are squelching.
Widening at the same time as my heart races, my eyes follow the
bloodstained water at our feet. The returning panic scolds my lungs and
although the top of my dress is bunched around my waist and the only thing
up top is my strapless bra, I’m clawing at my neck and chest desperately,
like I’m being choked.
Everything is blurring. The pink tinged water. Leo…
“Hey, hey, hey…” Grasping my jaw with his hands, his thumbs stroke
my cheeks so roughly that they tug at my skin. “You’re okay, baby. You’re
safe. I promise. I swear no one’s going to hurt you again.”
I want to believe him, but something keeps reminding me that I can’t.
That it isn’t fair to put that burden on him. But I like the idea of him as my
protector. I like the idea of him as my anything.
 Taking me right under the hot spray, he starts massaging my scalp and
then gently unknotting my hair with his fingers until all I can smell is hot
water and him. All I can see when I look down is clear, clean water.
“There, Buttercup, it’s all gone. Done.” Painfully soft and wistful, his
smile fills me with real, tangible affection and I can breathe again.
My eyes rove down from his face and become glued to his torso. The
tattoos and the muscles all too visible under the wet cotton.
“No,” I manage to murmur when he begins backing away.
My hands grab a hold of his wrists, barely circling them, with his hands
on his hips. And my eyes are on that fucking cross and the heavy flock of
small birds that fade into three bigger ones on his upper arm.
I struggle to see all of the detail under his short, wet sleeves, but there’s
something about the ink under his skin that stirs inside me. It’s not a lust
driven feel, but intrigue, because I want to know more. See, know, and feel
it all.
Pulling at the wet T-shirt, trying to move it up his body, it’s like it has
shrunk a couple of sizes and is glued to his body.
“Don’t,” Leo says sternly, his hands now circling my wrists, pinning
them to my sides.
I don’t know what I’m asking for, but I do anyway, “Please.”
Moving flush to my body, he holds both of my wrists securely behind
my back in a tight, one-handed grasp. Heat blazing in my chest, my legs are
shaking and no matter how hard I try to steel them, I can’t, as he runs his
rough, stubbled jaw across mine.
Panting, I can’t suck in enough air to clear my head. My emotions are
going from simmering to boiling point and tears prick the back of my eyes.
“Do you want to burn, Cassandra?” He rasps into my ear, stepping so
close that our bodies aren’t just flush, they’re pressing to one another like
when we danced. “That’s all that will come of this. I’ll scorch you.”
I don’t care. I yell at him in my head and then hoarsely whisper, “You
already have, little boy.”
I tease him, hoping that it’ll rouse another reaction from him. All it does
is unleash my tears and when I try to pull my hand from his hold to wipe
them, he tightens his grip on me.
“Leave them,” breathing harshly, his gaze narrows on mine, and he
lowers himself so we’re face to face. “You don’t dry your tears, ever. You
don’t wipe them, Cass, you wipe out the people who put them there
instead.”
The intensity of his gaze is too much and when I try to lower mine, he
lowers himself so that I can’t escape him.
“Let me do it, if you won’t.”
“I don’t want to be a monster.” My voice breaks with tears that I can’t
stop.
“Because the world tells you not to be?”
“No, because I want to keep my heart.” Or what I have left of it.
“Do you think I don’t have a heart? Christopher? Your dad? We live. We
breathe. We feel pain and love.” He pushes me against the shower wall,
keeping my hands trapped behind my back with one of his, whilst the other
cups my face roughly.
The tip of his nose trails the planes of my face and skims the bridge of
my nose down to my lips and when he looks back up his lips touch mine.
They run across mine.
I don’t know how long it takes me to get back to what he just said, but
when I do, my lungs swell in my chest.
We feel pain and love.
Love.
“How can you kill in one breath and love in the other?” I ask as his
bottom lip strokes mine, the tip of his tongue licking the underside of my
top one.
“I can easily do both in the same breath. It’s in my nature. I can love
you, protect you, and kill for you in one. Single. Breath.”
“For me.”
“For you.” Murmuring, his tongue dips into my mouth.
Leo licks across my tongue and then the roof of my mouth before his
teeth sink into my top lip. He bites, sucks, and licks my sore, cracked pout
until I can’t breathe and water has filled both our mouths.
Letting go of my wrists, he takes a step back and shucks off his boots
before removing his T-shirt. The whole time I’m mesmerised by his body
and the way it moves. The way the muscles ripple and pull over his bones
and beneath his skin. I take in the intricate lines and curves of the ink on his
chest, the beautiful tangle of birds and stars is strikingly soft for his hard
body. I have no idea which line to follow and study because my mind is a
frisson of sparks and anticipation.
 He yanks his belt off and throws it to the ground as he pops his button
open. My eyes zero in on the top of his underwear, heat spreads all over me
and I’m sweating. I didn’t even know you could sweat in water.
I watch him undress until all that’s left is his tight white boxer shorts,
this is the closest I’ve been to a living breathing, real life guy in this way.
I’m impressed and fucking terrified at the same time. I know how things
work, I’m no prude. But knowing how they work and seeing it is very
different to this.
Am I meant to touch him? Am I meant to know what to do? Or maybe
he’ll tell me?
Shit, this is a whole new panic.
I don’t realise I’m hyperventilating until he swipes my drenched hair
from my face and dips to kiss me again.
“Relax,” he says before he pries my lips apart with his tongue.
Groaning when I twirl mine with his and scrape my teeth along it, his
hands tug at my dress until it falls to my feet. I’m left in my high-waisted
thong and strapless bra as he cups my arse and lifts me.
I want to open my eyes and watch his muscles strain as he takes my
weight, but he deepens his kiss and I am a little unsure when my legs wrap
around him. My ankles cross behind him, his groan vibrating down my
throat has me squirming in his hands, on him, and I am very aware of the
affect I have on him.
I’m shocked and thrilled that I’ve roused this reaction from him. The
more I move, he moves and God, he feels so good, my legs are shaking as
pleasure unfurls at my core and starts to race to my extremities.
Tracing down my jaw to my throat with his mouth, it’s only when he
thrusts and grinds his groin into mine that I realise that I need to tell him.
I’ve never done this before. I’m a late bloomer…
“Leo,” I breathe as he nibbles and licks my neck.
“Mmm?”
He’s going to laugh at me and think I’m some sort of prude. I’m trying
to think of a way to tell him without blurting out that stupid, dreaded word
everyone seems to wince at.
“I’ve never done this.” Murmuring into the air above us, I wait for it to
sink in as he continues licking…kissing…licking some more…until he
stops. His hands loosen on me and I know what’s coming.
He’s going to drop me and walk away. Any minute now.
 Except he doesn’t and his hands tighten on me again right before he
kisses me. It’s not like either of the first kisses. This is hungry and wild and
at the same time it’s full of tenderness.
The grind of his pelvis is more of a soft rock, that’s still driving me
insane and when I drop my hands from his waist to the top of his arse, he
pulls his lips from mine to look at me.
“No one’s touched you before?” he asks with a tremor in his voice.
Shaking my head, I can barely look at him as embarrassment heats my
cheeks.
“You’ve never…”
“No.”
“How?” His gaze flit between us and then back up to mine.
“Have you met my brother?”
“Huh,” he chuckles and then grins at me, “I’m beginning to like him a
little bit more.”
Even the tiniest bit of friction as he shuffles me up his body has my eyes
almost rolling to the back of my head, unable to steady my voice as I say, “I
thought you were friends.”
“Oh Buttercup,” he strokes my cheek with his nose. “I have something
he needs, and he has something I want. That’s how this world works. There
is no such thing as friendship. Fuck, family barely stands for anything.”
Kissing my nose, he puts me down and pulls away with a lick of his
lips, yearning glazing his eyes.
“Wait! Don’t you…” I can tell he wants to do more. I can see it. His
underwear barely contains it.
“I’m not going to take something from you that you’re not ready to part
with.”
I go up onto my toes and tell him, “I’m giving it to you.”
“Giving it? I don’t want you to give it to me, Cass, I want you to beg me
to take it.” His hot breath bathes my face and every part of me is ready to
fall on its knees for him right here and now.
But before I can beg, like he wants me to, he turns and starts to
rummage in the mirrored cabinets above the sink and counter.
My heart stumbles when my gaze goes to his hard-muscled back.
What on earth?
“What happened to your back?” Shock and horror tinge my words. And
when he turns toward me with what I assume is his shampoo and shower
gel in his hands. There’s a shuttered haze that clouds his regal features as he
shrugs with a shake of his head, “Penance.”
That’s it. That’s all he says before he takes care of me like he wanted to
from the start.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 17

LEO

C assie has the Tibetan Mastiff wrapped around her finger and she
has barely paid Toby any attention. Tracking my every move with
his soppy eyes, he’s laid at the bottom of my bed, by her feet.
He knows he’s not normally allowed in here and he’s milking every
single second of it, and her.
When I reach down to run my fingers across her soft cheek his eyes flit
to mine and then to her. Sighing like he’s fed up with my presence, like he
wants to have her all to himself he shuffles closer to her, so that he’s tucked
to her legs.
I know it’s wrong, but I’m jealous of him and that he gets to lie next to
her. I’m envious of all the attention I know she’s going to give him. If I
didn’t love the bastard so much, I’d find him a new home away from my
sweet, little Buttercup.
“Mine.” Whispering, I hiss at him as I continue watching the rise and
fall of her chest.
I have no idea when my curiosity became an obsession, but she is all I
can think of. My fascination with her runs deeper than an addiction. She is a
high that runs so deep that it’s making me crazy. My mind has no autonomy.
It is all hers. I’m all hers and it is inconvenient as fuck.
Loving her was never my intention, because I never saw her coming. I
only saw my goal—my revenge. But now I’m not sure what I want
anymore, apart from her and keeping her safe.
 I know what’s coming, because I know what happens when you cross
the wrong people. If I’d been smart, I would have listened to my mother
and tried to forget about the past.
But I can’t. I’ve lived with all my father’s sins and trespasses all my
life. I’ve been waiting for fate to interfere or karma to catch up with him,
but it hasn’t.
It’s too late anyway, the road I chose to go down has no return. It
brought me to Cassie, and now I have her I’m not letting her go.
I won’t let her down like I did Kit.
There’ll be no more backing down for the better good. It’s time to burn
down the house.
I’m sorry I let you go. I think silently, lightly brushing the backs of my
fingers across her soft jaw while I memorise every gorgeous contour of her
sleeping face. The way her dark blonde lashes fan thickly over her
cheekbones and how her small nose twitches every so often. The naturally
upturned set of her buxom lips and her dainty chin.
Tracing my fingers down to her neck and the bruised bite I left on her
perfect skin, I can barely contain my need to hold her and make sure that
she’s real, here and mine.
Bruises have never looked this delicate and lovely. They’ve always been
a marker of anger and hate. An apparent erasable scar that festers in your
subconscious.
But the one on her neck is exquisite. It makes my chest heat to the point
that it feels ready to burst. Looking at it is making my dick so hard that my
joggers feel too tight.
When I brush her hair completely off her shoulder she stirs and Toby
growls low enough that I know it’s a friendly warning, but still a warning.
“Well aren’t you just a cliché?” I snipe at him in a hushed tone so as not
to disturb Cassie. “Just a mutt who doesn’t know its owner, huh?”
Toby side-glances back to her and then looks up at me deadpan, even
for his dopey eyes, and lets out a rumbly whine before shuffling up the bed
a little more, getting even closer to the woman I want, but know I shouldn’t.
Turning his back to me, he sighs dismissively.
“Leo?” Wayne calls at the same time as he knocks on the bedroom door.
I pull the duvet up over Cassie’s shoulders and then head for the door,
but before I open it, I take one more look at her. I take a moment to
memorise the sight of her in my bed and the way it makes it feel warm.
 “You have visitors.” I’m greeted by Wayne’s exhausted eyes.
Great.
“Christopher?”
He nods.
The fact that he doesn’t respond verbally tells me that this is going to
potentially get ugly. And although normally I wouldn’t mind it getting
rough, the woman in the room I’m walking away from makes me want to
smooth things over. Because more than a fight, I want her.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Christopher, get your head out of your arsehole
and just look at things like a normal person!” Arabella is griping at him as
we enter the living area.
“Really? If he wasn’t your friend, would you really be saying that?” The
dryness of his reply is enough to let me know that he’s hankering for a
fight.
Arabella Gladstone’s five-foot-nothing frame looks dwarfed as she
stands in the middle of my home with her hands on her hips, spitting her
words like they’re fire. “Yes, because they’re both grown-ups and you need
to lighten up.”
Christopher’s gaze follows hers and before I can even take a breath, he’s
on me. The only advantage he has on me is an extra inch in height. When it
comes to our build, we’re both about the same.
Aggravation adds fuel to the fire when I duck to the side and he misses
his first hit.
“I’ll get one in eventually and it’ll be harder than all the ones I might
miss.” He snarls and I have to wonder if he actually thinks that he can hurt
me anymore than I have been before.
“You might miss them all.” I meet his eyes as his fist tightens around
the collar of my T-shirt.
When I duck the other, his flying fist wraps around my throat instead
and crushing pain radiates from the centre of my face when he head-butts
my nose.
Fucker!
Arabella got one thing right, the arsehole’s hard-headed. I’m not vain
enough to care about the state of my nose right now, but if I let him get
another blow in, I might not have one left.
So I give him what he wants. A fight. I’ve known Christopher Sinclair a
long time, and I know that his temper and his fists are on the same dial.
 My knee finds his gut at the same time I slam the heel of my hand into
the middle of his forehead and that is enough to get him off me. He’s
disorientated, as he should be after a brain rattle.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” His words are rough and still a little
garbled.
“Yeah, have at it.” I sneer and it’s only then I realise that there’s enough
blood dripping from my nose to coat my jaw and splatter onto my clothes
and the floor.
If Toby wasn’t so fucking taken with Cassie this would’ve been a
completely different story. But then, the dog is a traitor.
Christopher takes a step to the side as I take one closer to him and when
I take another, he moves sidewards again. We go around in a circle for a
while until he lunges at me. He thought I was letting my guard down, but I
know his games.
Dropping to my knees, I grab his waist, twisting him so that he falls flat
on his back. He doesn’t let his head crack on the floor, but the fall winds
him enough to slow his reflexes but not the short, quick jabs he’s
pummelling my chest with. Little by little they empty my lungs and the
radiating pain is getting sharper.
I catch sight of Arabella and Wayne sitting on the sofa closest to us
laughing and it’s then that Christopher manages to roll me onto my back.
“You fucking lied.” Grunting, he punctuates every word with another
knuckle jab to my ribs.
Catching the side of his jaw with my fist, I reply, “So did you.”
Christopher’s blood coats his teeth and dribbles down the side of his
mouth. I’m guessing he bit his tongue.
“I tried!” A spray of bloodied spit covers my face.
“So did I.”
We’re both breathing too fast to be able to continue this fight. We both
know it, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to get another blow in.
“Should’ve tried harder.” Panting, he catches the top of my cheekbone
and my brow.
I’m about to get another heel to the bridge of his nose in, when we both
freeze at the sound of a loud alarm.
Instinct and adrenaline collide and we’re both on our feet ready to take
whoever on together.
 Except we both pause when we realise the noise is coming from where
Arabella is standing next to Cassie, with her new protector at her side.
Fuck me.
“I’ve been dying to test it out.” Arabella laughs.
Wayne’s long sigh is exasperated and a little bored as he looks between
all of us.
“What the fuck was that?” Christopher asks a little too loudly and it
earns him a growl and a thorough showcase of teeth from Toby.
“It’s this new rape alarm app. I saw it, thought that it was a good thing
to have.” Arabella shrugs. “Anyway, are you two quite done?”
“A rape alarm?”
“They should call it the arsehole remote.” Cassie glowers at the pair of
us with irritation.
Beside Arabella she looks Amazonian tall. My eyes rove down her
slender body barely covered by one of my long T-shirts. She’s all long, slim
legs and juicy thighs. And like the idiot that I am, I start recalling how they
felt wrapped around me. How her plump arse cheeks felt in my hands.
Licking the blood that’s still dribbling from my nose, I watch as she
licks her own lips followed by a long swallow.
My dick jerks and hardens, and I’m praying I don’t half-mast right now.
Especially with the way her eyes meander down my body, her legs pressing
together so tight that the natural gap between her thighs is completely gone.
Her breasts aren’t the biggest but even in my loose T-shirt her nipples
are beaded and stiff, and that makes me take notice of how hard my own
are.
“If the baby is deaf, it’s all on you and that fucking app.” Christopher
grits at Arabella with false rancour.
“That’s how you dropped it into the conversation? You’re a fucking
idiot, you know that?”
“Wait. What? What baby?” Confused, Cassie looks between the two of
them.
I had wondered why Arabella had been staying off the Champagne at all
the recent events and parties, but a bun in the oven never crossed my mind.
“This one.” Resting her hands over her belly, Arabella smiles and when
a strand of her fringe falls in front of her eyes, she blows it away again
singing, “Surprise!”
 “Oh wow,” Cassie smiles at her, unsure how to react. “Umm,
congratulations?”
“Thanks!” Arabella chirps back and it’s the first time I notice that she
looks a little different. Her tummy isn’t as flat as usual. Although she
doesn’t look like she’s put on weight, just like she’s bloated.
She and Cassie head to the large L-shape sofa in front of the television
and everything fades to normal.
“Is that why you’re getting married so soon?” Cassie asks.
“No, but I do want to have the same name as my child, and we were
already going to anyway…”
Christopher and I look at one another. Our fight feels really awkward
now and I’m not sure what to say, so I go with Cassie’s response,
“Congratulations.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Grumbling in return, he then says, “Don’t fuck my
sister over.”
“Make sure you protect her when you say you will.” I grumble back.
It’s as much of an apology as we’re going to give one another, but it’s
enough that we both walk away. Christopher to the guest toilet and I to the
en-suite.
I’ve got all the first aid shit out of the mirrored cabinet when she walks
in. Hoisting herself onto the counter where I have the cotton wool,
hydrogen peroxide and arnica cream lined up, she smiles, “Mr. Neat Freak.”
“I’m not a neat freak,” I argue, sighing because she sounds like my
mother.
Just because I like things in order doesn’t mean I’m a freak. It helps me
think clearer and I fucking hate mess it makes my skin crawl.
“Whatever you say,” looking up at me from under her long lashes, she
smiles coyly, “Neat Freak.”
I’m about to make her eat her words when she strokes my face softly,
her hands trail down my jaw, my neck and chest, until they’re flattened on
my stomach.
Twisting them in my T-shirt, she nuzzles into my neck. Into that exact
place where she’s left her mark, the same place that’s scarred from one of
my father’s tantrums.
When her lips ghost the still stinging, freshly bruised skin, I freeze. I
have no idea what to do with myself as my heart races and my body reacts
to her.
 Kissing up to my ear, she asks, “Why were you and Christopher
fighting?”
Cassie pulls on my T-shirt, bringing me a little lower, level with her, and
then her soft fingers are wiping at my face. She’s trying to clean me up, and
fuck me, the tenderness and the intensity with which she’s doing it is
staggering. It’s enough to make me fall on my knees at her feet.
I don’t think there’s a single soul out there that could deserve her, but of
all the souls that don’t, mine is the least worthy.
I don’t deserve you. I silently tell her again and again as she tries to
clean up the dried blood in vain.
There’s no denying that she lives in her own little bubble. Cassie’s so
sweet and soft, but she has so much more strength and power in her than
anyone sees. They mistake her quiet nature as weakness, when in fact, it’s
what makes her powerful.
A fucking killer Queen, she’ll bury you with her kindness.
After what happened today, she’s still standing, still caring for someone
other than herself. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s her way of loving
too. If it is, I’m beyond fucked now.
“Well?” she asks, pulling away to grab some cotton wool.
Wetting it with the hydrogen peroxide, she then dabs it around my nose.
Fuck that shit stings like a bitch! My hands tighten around her thighs
and she brings herself closer, opening them up so I fit between them.
“You,” I tell her.
“Me? Why on earth would the pair of you fight over me?” Discarding
the bloodstained cotton wool, she retrieves a fresh wad.
“Have you met your brother?” I watch her soak the white clump with
some more peroxide water before she squeezes the excess off into the sink.
“I see.” Her jaw clenches as she hisses the words. “Close your eyes.”
I do as I’m told when she begins to press the moist wool to my
cheekbone. Her breathing hiccups once and then again, and I know she’s
upset.
My chest tightens in a way that’s impossible to express coherently. My
throat swells and the air in my lungs thickens.
When I open my eyes, my heart—an organ I don’t use for anything
other than keeping myself alive—cracks for her. “Cass.”
“It’s okay.” Her watery smile trembles as she continues cleaning my
face. “I get it, Christopher had words with you…”
 “Excuse me?” Batting her hand away from my face, instant regret
chokes my anger. “Who do you think I am?”
There’s nothing but loaded silence and when her red rimmed eyes meet
mine, she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth like she’s speechless or
baffled.
It fucking guts me, that she thinks I’m that guy that will walk away
because her brother or anyone else threatens me.
Anchoring my hands on the counter on either side of her hips, I lean
over her, so she sees and feels nothing other than me. It works, because she
looks up at me with wide eyes and her breathing all over the place. I like
that. I like the affect I have on her—it evens the playing field.
“You listen to me, and you listen good.” My heart thumps loudly in my
chest at the way she shrinks back. “I’m a twenty-seven-year-old man, I do
not take orders from anyone, about anything. Much less from Christopher
when it comes to you. You are the only one that can keep me away, and
even then, I will put up the biggest goddamn fight. Got it?”
“Yes,” she breathes heavily. “So you still want me?”
Is she for fucking real?
My dick is so hard right now, from just being this close to her, that with
the way I’m leaning over her it’s rubbing on her thigh.
“Yes, Cassandra, I want you.”
She swallows at the same time as I straighten, and the head of my
covered cock traces up the inside of her thigh. Her body shudders as it
presses to her boxer shorts covered cunt.
God, she feels so fucking hot even through the layers between us. My
dick throbs, asking for more and her deep tremulous moan chips away at
my waning control.
Her lips crush to mine with desperate need and it brings our bodies so
close that I can feel the contours of her pussy on the tip of my erection.
“Leo…” Striding up my arms, her hands then cup my neck.
I am a breadth away from ripping everything that’s between us and
burying myself inside her with the way she’s squirming. The only thing
stopping me is the knowledge that she’s innocent to all this. And her knees
are too scuffed to beg for anything today.
Her breathing becomes louder as I kiss down her neck. Licking and
nipping at the bruised skin. She’s toxic with her trembling body and breathy
pants, her blushing skin is like an open invite to a heavenly feast.
 Pulling her leg up, I prop her foot on my hip and when I grind into her,
my hand kneading her arse at the same time, her head falls back with her
struggle for breath.
Yeah, this is the closest to heaven I’ve ever been.
With her eyes closed, her mouth gaping and her chest heaving, she’s the
picture of pure fucking lust. Her long, messy hair cascades behind her and
the hollow of her throat is sucked in as my cock presses to her clit. She’s
fucking looking for more friction with every circle of her hips and as she
finds it, she bites down on her plump lip like it’s too much.
I feel like some teenage kid, humping his long-time crush. Except she’s
more than that…Cassandra Sinclair is mine.
“Please, don’t stop.” She rasps when I take a moment to memorise the
strained lines of her needy body.
Her foot slips as she grabs on to my waist, her heel presses to my arse
pushing me closer. Christ, I want to fuck her so bad. I want to watch my
dick sink into her pussy and feel her milk it.
We’re both seeking more and more friction from each other, and her
pants are getting throatier and husky. Pink tinges her face and throat and
when I lower my face to her chest and pull her covered nipple into my
mouth her hoarse moan echoes around us.
Cassie’s hand digs into my waist as her other slaps onto my arm. Her
nails claw my flesh like she’s trying to hold on at the precipice of a great
height.
My dick throbs relentlessly as my muscles tense. I’m going to come in
my pants like some eager adolescent and I couldn’t give a fuck right now.
Gasping, her breaths get louder as I nip back up to her lips. Licking the
small beads of sweat that have gathered around her mouth.
“Look at me, Buttercup.” I demand, feeling her pussy clench through
the boxers she’s wearing and my joggers.
I want to see her beautiful face the first time I make her come. That
moment will forever be branded in my memories.
Licking her lips, she opens her eyes and I’m pretty much gone. They’re
so fucking bright, even with her pupils so dilated, that there’s only the
tiniest ring of copper around them.
They semi shutter as her body tenses and spasms in my hands. Her
breath is hitched for the slowest second and her nails dig into me so damn
deep that the bite travels down to my cock like hot liquid fire, and I
explode.
It’s deliriously quiet for a moment as my body hangs almost boneless
over her. Her legs wrapped loosely around my waist and her face tucked
into my chest as her hands continue holding onto my biceps.
I question my fucking sanity as I worry that I’ve gone too far with her,
but when I find her face she’s fucking smiling.
Lowering my lips to hers, I press her completely flush to me, and as my
cum soaks through the layers I lick into her mouth with a groan. My cock
jerking again as I grind her into me. “What are you doing to me?”
Her eyes widen and her already pinked cheeks deepen to a ruddy red.
Shaking her head, she sighs as her hands rest on my forearms. Eyes flitting
down to my left arm, her middle finger strokes the vertical line of the cross
before she looks up at me and says, “Make them leave. I don’t want them
here anymore.”
“Me either,” I tell her softly, my thumbs stroking her cheekbones and
although I haven’t done this a lot of times before it feels so normal.
And as it turns out, I like normal a lot.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 18

CASSANDRA

L eo’s holding my hand tightly as we make our way to the car.

Wayne is ready and waiting for us in the Range. Yesterday I was
ready to run away and never look back, but then Leo was there and
despite everything, I felt okay.
“We’ll go get some breakfast first, and then go face the music.” He says,
tilting my face to his before he presses a kiss to my forehead.
“How much trouble are you in?” I don’t mean to burst our bubble, but
the reality is that he killed a man and walked away, regardless of whether he
was protecting me or not.
“Honestly?”
“Yes.” Steeling myself, I tuck into the corner of the lift.
“Francis took care of it.”
“What do you mean my dad took care of it? What about the police?”
He laughs like my concerns are silly.
“Believe me, the police are the least of our concerns.” Pulling me flush
to him, his hands slide all the way down my back until my shoulders are
tucked into his underarms and I’m completely caged in by him. Big hands
moulding to each one of my bum cheeks, he kneads and squeezes them
together.
I have to hold on to him to stop myself from collapsing. My hands
round his low slung, grey joggers and it takes me by complete surprise
when my fingers encounter solid, cold metal.
 Heart clashing into my ribcage, I freeze as I remember all the blood.
Then the way cold metal burned my skin.
“Why do you have a gun?”
He doesn’t let me push him away in my panic. Instead, his arms strap
me to his body like a human harness. The visor of his cap resting on my
forehead when he leans down. “I said I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you,
that I would protect you…”
His face is so close to mine that when I tilt my head back, our lips are
practically touching, they pulse with how sore they are from his bites and
kisses.
“I appreciate that…”
“You appreciate it, but?” He has a full-on pout going on and it makes it
impossible for me to think about our conversation—my mind is drawing
blanks.
Gaaaah, why does he have to look like that?
“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me or hurt.” Moving my
right hand higher so that it rests on his waist, his skin feels so warm over his
hard muscles and I can see why he might think he’s invincible. “I couldn’t
live with myself, Leo.”
Jaw clenching and grinding, he looks at odds with himself, again,
because of me.
“I will not let anything touch you again.”
My heart thuds at the intensity that flows from his words and his gaze
and the way in which he tightens his hold so that he really is cocooning me
from the world.
I have to painfully squeeze my arm between us so I can stroke his face.
His eyes are dark and the way his whole body is tense around me, tells me
that so are his thoughts.
I’ve always seen something lurking in the shadows of his face and his
eyes, but I didn’t know how strong and potent it was. I don’t know what
he’s been through, but I see enough scar tissue to know that it hurt him
beyond any imagining.
“There are some things that are out of our control.”
“Not this.” He closes his eyes and when he opens them, he is as cold as
the Night King. Devoid of warmth and emotion, his expression is stony and
bitter.
“Even this.”
 “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You have no idea what
could’ve happened to you yesterday.” Unwrapping himself from me, his
scowl is debilitating. “You have no fucking clue!”
His anger vibrates through him and I can see it boil over into frustration,
he’s trying to rein it in so hard but I know what’s coming. I’ve been waiting
for him to blow.
Stepping closer, I reach for his hand. “You can’t control everything.”
Turning away from me, his hands slap onto the mirror at the back of the
elevator with a crack, the splintering of the glass reverberates with his loud
voice around us. “I warned you! I begged you not to go.”
“I…I didn’t think…”
“You’re not an idiot, Cassandra!” Turning to look at me, I can’t tell if
it’s pain or loathing twisting his face, maybe it’s both. “Someone tells you
you’re in danger, you fucking listen! Someone tries to protect you, you
fucking let them do it! You don’t understand how lucky you are…all the
things that could have happened to you…”
“I have a fair idea.” Tears prickle up my throat and break my voice
before they collect in my eyes.
When the doors ping open, I’m so shaken by his outburst that I jump out
of my skin. Neither one of us moves as tears drip pathetically down my
face. It takes for the doors to start closing for him to move.
Grabbing my wrist, he walks me to the Range in wide, fast and angry
steps.
“Let me show you how lucky you are.” Opening the back door, he
almost throws me inside without so much as a second glance.
I can’t help the hurt I feel and when he gets in the front, I feel like I’ve
been sliced through.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
“Leo…” Wayne looks between us, perplexed.
“Drive or get out!”
He drives, I think that maybe he’ll ignore Leo and take me home, but he
doesn’t. He takes me the opposite way.
I’M LOST IN A TRANCE, looking out of the window. Wondering how we
went from being happy and having a good morning to this. The atmosphere
in the car is tense and completely silent.
Leo’s on his phone, his teeth might start crumbling if he doesn’t stop
grinding them.
Meanwhile, the silence is suffocating me, and like he can tell, Wayne
puts the radio on. Smiling at me when Fauré’s Three Melodies fills the car,
he turns up the volume.
The melancholy melody always makes my heart weep and has my
insides so cold that I feel empty. I like that. I prefer empty to hate, it feels so
wrong to hate Leo. Even if he has just shredded me to pieces for reasons
I’m not even sure I understand.
He wants to protect me, but right now he’s the one hurting me.
Why are you hurting me? I ask silently as we keep driving, once in a
while I swear I can hear Leo hum to the music. But when I look up at him,
his jaw is set and the shadowed consternation on his face is like a vapid
mask.
A few minutes later we slow down to a crawl, turning into a ramp that
leads to a double gated, underground garage. When the first gate slides into
the concrete wall, a tall uniformed guy approaches the car. His bulletproof
vest states he is POLICE, there are weapons strapped to his thighs and
around his vest.
Unease fills me when two more officers join him, both bearing weapons
that look as big and mean as their arms and stance.
Shrinking into my seat while Leo opens his window, I try to make out
what they’re saying, but my ears are ringing with my rampaging heartbeat.
Leo hands him his and Wayne’s IDs, passing them to one of his colleagues
he bends lower to look at me.
“Miss Sinclair is with us.” Wayne says sternly.
With a nod, he takes another look into the car and then at me before
rounding the vehicle and looking through all the open windows.
I don’t recall ever seeing this much security and it’s strange because of
what my father does.
It takes a handful of minutes for them to hand back the IDs and once
they’ve finished their checks they let us through the second gate.
Wayne follows another officer to a parking spot and before getting out,
Leo passes him the gun he was carrying.
 Opening my door, Leo reaches in, takes one of my hands and tugs me to
him before setting me on the concrete ground in front of the officer that
escorted us.
“Come on…” he orders as the officer starts for a large tinted glass door
on the other side of the garage.
The place is all concrete, iron and glass. Cold and detached from the
world outside. Walking us all the way through, our escort hands us off to
another officer and a nurse.
Looking to Leo for any inkling of what’s going on, he just nods,
indicating for me to follow her.
“Mr. Fairfax, we weren’t expecting you this afternoon.” She says,
smiling broadly at him.
It irritates me that she looks between us, trying to figure out what we are
to one another.
“How is he?”
“No change.” Her reply carries an undertone of pity and sadness much
like the hall we’re walking down.
The place smells like bleach and it has that hazy smell that sterile
environments have. Like that time, I had to be put to sleep because I needed
to have pins on my wrist after I fell off my horse mid gallop.
The security is endless as we have to go through x-ray machines to get
into the ward the nurse takes us to, and then we have to sign in again as she
hands us sterile clothing, some gloves, shoe covers and nets for our hair.
“The scans tomorrow will let us know more.” Watching us put on the
garbs, she continues with a soft smile before walking us down another
corridor to a triple width glass door.
The workout leggings and oversized sweatshirt Arabella had one of
Wayne’s guys drop at Leo’s this morning, together with the gown are
making me feel so hot that I’m drying out with how anxious I’m feeling.
There’s this sense of foreboding in my chest that I can’t shake off.
“Come on,” Leo murmurs, nodding for me to follow him into the room.
When I do, he moves to stand by the foot of the hospital bed. There are
machines everywhere. Beeping, whirring and whooshing, making all sorts
of sounds that overwhelm me together with all the medical paraphernalia
covering every inch of the place. There are screens of all sizes with every
stat imaginable. Body temperature. Heart rate. Blood pressure. O2 levels.
Blood flow. Brain function…
 I know not to look at the person on the bed, something tells me I’m
going to need to steel myself for what’s about to greet me.
“Hey, are you ready to wake up yet, lazy bones?”
Looking up at Leo, I avert my gaze so that it avoids the person on the
bed. His face is soft and filled with hurt, but at the same time there’s a
shadow in his profile that tells me he is still that violent and reckless man
that exploded in the lift.
“You need to wake up, Kit, Mum needs you to.”
Let me make you understand how lucky you are.
I have no choice but to look at the man on the bed, when I do, the dam
breaks.
The tears burst from my eyes in painful streams and I am equal parts
horrified and angry. My chest twists like a wet rag being rinsed dry.
This is his brother; it could have been me too.
I already knew that, but none of my imaginings could have prepared me
for this.
Kit’s head is wrapped in thick bandages with half of his face so swollen
that you can’t tell whether his features are in the right places. The other half
isn’t as bad but it’s still puffy and covered in deep purple bruises and
weeping welts. A large tube is coming out of his mouth and a smaller one is
going into his nose.
I’ve never met him, or seen him before, but I’d say he is
unrecognisable. With his neck in a brace and his arms awkwardly balanced
on slings on either side, his body looks disjointed. And although I can’t see
what else is going on underneath the blankets, I don’t think it gets better,
and I can’t cope with any more either.
Urging me forward with his hand, he asks, “Is this what you want,
Cassandra?”
He doesn’t look at me, but the impassiveness of his voice is chilling
enough that I know he’s struggling to hold himself together. Moving closer
to him, until I’m right beside him at the foot of the bed, I refuse to dry my
tears. He’s right, it’s the people that put them there that should be wiped
from the face of this Earth. They grow heavier as I carry on looking at Kit,
much like the guilt and horror swimming in the pit of my stomach.
No wonder he’s so angry with me. He tried to protect me, he’s still
trying, and I keep fighting him on it, when I should be fighting with him.
But the thought of him getting hurt trying to protect me? It petrifies me.
 What if he ends up here? I’ll be the one standing in this very spot, alone.
If my tears were already heavy, they’re torrential now.
“Go on, Buttercup, cry. Cry for him.” His voice is sharp, and I won’t
even chance a look at him because I know that what I’ll find on his face is
so much worse than the scene in front of me.
“He deserves your tears. Your fight. My fight.”
“What happened?” I choke.
“Ask Jack,” he snarls. Jack?
“What did he do?”
“That selfish motherfucker snitched. He saw us at the house party, he
knew what I was doing…”
Moving away from me when I reach for his hand, he rounds to Kit’s
bedside. His beautiful green eyes waterlogged.
“I should’ve blown that fucker’s brains out when I had the chance. He
should be a lifeless corpse. Unrecognisable to the world.”
“Stop it!” Breaking, my command is weak, and I hate that I’m not like
him.
“Stop?” Bitter indignation soils his voice. “Do you think they stopped
when Kit begged them to? Do you think they gave him the chance to beg?
Do you think they’ll stop when you beg? They won’t!”
Leo’s face is contorted into a furious grimace and although his words
are wet, there aren’t any tears in his eyes now. Only pure, molten hatred.
“Look at him, my brother, he did nothing wrong. He was loyal to a
fault. Now? He’s lying in this bed lucky to make it another minute, let alone
another day. The bullet might have missed his brain, but the damage is just
as bad.” His lips twist, and he bites the side of his mouth. “He might not
wake up, if he’s lucky to, he might not know who he is…our mother…”
Him.
He doesn’t say it, but I see it in his face—he’s scared that his brother
might not remember him. He’s devastated, and I’m certain it’s not just
because he wants his brother to remember who he is.
“He might not be able to talk or see or do all the things he’s always
done. He’ll be a prisoner in his own body. And then what? Do I put him out
of his misery, or do I watch him suffer day in and day out?”
“I’m sorry.” I know it’s a useless thing to say. Stupid and meaningless
looking at him and Kit. It’s the only thing I know to convey, though,
because right now I have no words. I am nothing but a bag of feelings and
emotions.
I’m so enraged that my tongue is swollen, my throat is thick, and my
chest is so fucking tight.
The only thing I want to do is comfort him. Step into his shoes and give
him some of my hope and my strength. What little of it there is.
I want to give him something. Anything. I want to give him peace.
I want to give him me.

“It’s not too late to walk away,” Kit says, walking into the lift with me.
I know how he feels about this. He’s told me non-stop the last hour as I
packed for the weekend. Taking the suit bag containing my tux for tonight, I
ignore his words.
When we get to my car he watches me hang the suit in the back, and as
I’m about to get in, he says, “This isn’t a war you want to fight, Leo.”
This is what I’ve waited for since I was that eight-year-old boy, sat
outside our father’s office, too scared to make a sound of pain.
“Stop it. Stop trying to save him!”
Scowling at me, he shakes his head like I’m being obtuse. “This isn’t
about Dad, it’s about you. I’m trying to protect you…you think you know
what’s going on, but you’re in over your head. This goes beyond Fairfax
Capital, and I’m not trying to save the company or Dad…I’m trying to save
you.”
“Stop protecting me, Kit.” Getting into my car, I ignore the worry
etched on his face. “Protect yourself.”
PROTECT YOURSELF.
Those were the last words I ever said to him. And now, I’m standing
here in exactly the same shoes I left him in. I only want to protect Cassie,
but as soft as she is, she makes it so hard.
Her tears, his state…they’re all reminders of how inadequate I am at
keeping the people close to me safe. But I refuse to allow her to make the
same mistake I did. If what she needs is an ugly dose of reality, she’s got it.
And I will not be sorry for giving it to her.
“I’m so sorry.” Taking a step back from the bed, Cassie hesitantly walks
to the door and with a glance back, she walks out.
Before I follow her, I check all the monitors for any change, but
everything remains the same as it has since Francis got Kit transferred here.
The SIS hospital is meant to be the best of the best, reserved for the
elite. Francis had to jump through hoops to get the Foreign Secretary to sign
off on this, and although it’s the safest place, for some reason it feels like
the pit of Hell.
“Fight,” I tell him as I straighten up his blanket. It doesn’t matter how
impressive this place is, his blanket is always rumpled. “You need to be
okay for Mum…and Jules. You don’t want to break his heart, do you?”
Stupidly, I expect him to reply to that. To tell me how I should be more
concerned about my heart than his. But he doesn’t, and it doesn’t matter
how long I stand there waiting, I know it won’t happen today.
Taking one last look at him I close his door as I rip the sterile gown and
cap off. Cassie has already disposed of hers and right now her body looks
so warm and inviting. All I want to do is press her to me and enjoy the feel
of her. But after this…I can’t take from her when I’ve hurt her purposefully,
for her own good or not.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 19

CASSANDRA

A lthough Leo is now sitting in the back seat with me, he’s still
quiet. His hands are tightly knitted on his lap and he’s biting and
sucking on his bottom lip like it personally offended him.
There’s a forced distance between us that’s frustrating and paining. He
won’t get close enough to touch me and I hate it because this space between
us is making me lonely.
Looking out of the window, I realise where we are. Nelson’s column is
standing proudly with his lions sitting pretty and the fountains casting
rainbows in the soft spring light.
My heart sighs at the sight of my favourite London square, the place I
like to come every Saturday morning like a weekly mass. Trafalgar Square
is resplendent. It has a buzz and draw like a stellar Hollywood actor.
The sight of the National Gallery fills my chest with a familiar ache that
draws me to it. It’s my own little heaven.
In this closed off moment I can’t help but remember how Leo ran from
me, and I wonder if he’d do the same today, given the option.
The longing to lose myself in him tightens my chest. All I want is to go
back to last night in his bathroom and make him take everything I want to
give him.
I want to be back in his bed with him wrapped around me, my face
buried in his chest…I love his chest. I love how hard it is and all the
beautiful flowing lines that make up the canvas of his skin.
 Truthfully, I think I might just love him. Even when he is being like
this; broody, and closed off.
“It’s Saturday.” Breaking his silence for the first time since we left the
hospital, his voice is hoarse. And when I look at him, he’s already looking
at me with a soft, yearning sadness. It seems like a betrayal of his feelings
for me to be this happy about his thoughtfulness, when he is so very clearly
breaking.
“It is.”
The muddied green of his eyes is like bruised jewels on his pallid face.
His hair is a gorgeous mess, like he forgot to tidy it up when he got out of
bed, but I know he didn’t because I watched him style it as I brushed my
teeth beside him.
The smile on his face as he stole glances my way had my insides
fluttering and simmering.
Take me back there.
I’m hoping he feels the same way. I’m fucking terrified he doesn’t.
There’s a pang in my veins that resounds throughout my entire being. It
mocks my fear with a bravery that is burnished only for him.
It’s silly really, because Leo Fairfax is still a sort of enigma to me, I
know this, but there’s something so elemental about the way my mind, my
body, and every other part of me feels him. It’s like I’ve known him forever
even though I know very little about him.
Not true.
I know that he is sad and angry. He is volatile, and when you push him,
he can be callous. I know all those things. Much like that little girl chasing
the mean boy that pulls her pigtails in the playground—I know that if he
gives me an in, I’ll not only take it, but I’ll keep coming back for more.
Right now, I would let him pull every single one of my hairs from my
head if it would make him smile. I think a monster would like that; to take
his emotional pain out on me. I think a monster would like to make the ache
within him real and physical.
And we are monsters, aren’t we?
Am I a monster?
The thought of making him hurt like I do makes my heart race. I like the
image of seeing my pain painted on his skin. Deep blue, purple, and black
strokes that muddle and mottle together. Tears, bruises, and dirt.
 Jolting from my reverie my thoughts fuzz and dissipate like a dream as
my door is opened.
Getting out of the car, I join Leo on the pavement and before I say
anything, he asks, “Coffee?”
His mention of it has my nose sucking up the scent that’s wafting out of
the coffee shop we’re parked in front of.
“Definitely.” Smiling, I follow him into the bakery style coffee shop
with its beaten-up scaffolding board flooring, bare and crumbling brick
walls and utilitarian counters made from scaffold poles and stainless steel
sheets.
His dark, dangerous, and detached demeanour fits so well into the
utilitarian setting. And the way he greets the woman behind the counter has
me watching their interactions closely.
Leo’s polite to her, but he doesn’t go out of his way to make
conversation. Maybe he’s not himself today, but something tells me it’s who
he is.
“The usual?”
“Please,” he replies and then turns to look at me in question.
“Ummm…” I’m too busy psychoanalysing him badly to decipher what
he’s asking me.
“What would you like?” Stepping to the side as if to look at me better,
he nods to the pastry display. “The croissants are amazing.”
“All butter, freshly baked right here.” The pretty woman sings over her
shoulder as she prepares Leo’s coffee. “Today we have; jam, praline
chocolate, and nectarine preserve.”
I’m not exactly a shy eater, but for some reason I feel self-conscious
about eating with him. “I’ll have a latte, please.”
My heart flutters when Leo looks at me, a ghost of a smile lighting his
face before he turns to the barista and hands her his card. Taking our drinks,
he nods towards the croissants.
“We’ll take one of each.”
Once she hands him the croissants he requested, Leo walks out of the
shop, leaving me to follow him.
He has the pastries tucked under his arm as he hands Wayne one of the
steaming cups, and then crosses the road. Shivering, I walk quietly next to
him with Wayne tailing us.
 It’s still nippy this early on in March and the cold is beginning to set
into my bones.
“Wait.” Leo stops when we reach the Admiralty Arch holding his coffee
and the pastry bag in one hand, he takes off his thick sheepskin jacket and
puts it across my shoulders.
“What about you?” Handing him my coffee, I thread my hands through
the warm sleeves. “I’m sorry, I should’ve brought my dad’s coat, but…”
He nods, because he knows the state my father’s coat is in. That thought
is enough to chill me again and as I burrow my face into the soft collar of
his jacket, I relish in his woodsy, earthy scent. Breathing it in deeply as I
feel it soak through my clothes into my skin. My pores are opening just to
drink it in, and I have to grit my teeth tightly together to repress the sigh
that I feel unfurling and moving up every vertebra of my spine until it’s
lodged in my throat.
God, he smells so good.
Warm. Homely. Lusty. Rough.
I want more of it. I want to make it my own so that it’ll never wash
away.
I want my chest to feel like this all the time—like I’m climbing the
highest drop of the world’s tallest rollercoaster—my heart is beating
frantically with euphoria and it makes no sense because it’s just a damn
jacket.
I’m losing my mind.
Handing me back my coffee, Leo nods towards St. James’ park and I
follow down the tarmac and gravel path behind him. Slowing down a tad, I
study him from top to bottom. From the way his walk is tired, but at the
same time steady and strong. To the way his thick thighs flex with every
step. They taper down to strong calves that you expect from carved marble
and stone statues. Calves that make Michelangelo’s David and Myron’s
Discobolus seem soft.
If Picasso had been a sculptor, I suspect Leo would’ve been one of his
creations. He is all sharp angles and long lines. Something that reflects his
temperament and personality. A long tether tied to a short, dangerous fuse.
When we reach the mossy pond, he sits on the ground with his legs
stretched out so that his pristine Nikes dangle over the edge of the water.
“Sit,” he murmurs, placing the patisserie bag on his legs.
 Grabbing my coffee cup from the base, he places it next to his on the
ground and I’m entirely unsure how this is going to work. The ground isn’t
exactly dry and I’m not wearing underwear because Arabella apparently
didn’t think I’d need any. Last thing I want is a soggy arse.
Leo’s eyes don’t budge as I sit next to him, and when I stretch my legs
out beside his, he rips the croissant bag open and hands me one oozing with
golden, sticky preserve. It smells so good, and although my stomach is
twisting and turning with him watching me, I rip a small corner off and eat
it.
“Amazing, right?”
It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever had. The pastry is buttery, cool and
crisp, but the sweet nectarine filling is still warm and delicious. It makes my
mouth water for more.
Taking a swig of my latte, I nod at him, watching the way he licks the
tips of his fingers clean of the ruby red jam. Heat builds between my thighs
and I have to cross my legs, because God, I swear I can still feel him licking
my lips and my throat.
We watch each other eat, quietly, like it’s something entirely new to
both of us and not part of basic human nature. And when the silence
rampages around my chest like a bull in a china shop, I say the first thing
that pops into my head.
“How did you know I wouldn’t want the chocolate one?”
Turning from the pond to look at me again, he swallows even though
there’s nothing in his mouth. He glances down at the untouched chocolate
pastry in his lap and then back up to me.
“At the birthday party,” he says, “you turned down the chocolate cake
and the chocolate dessert. You didn’t touch the truffles that came with the
tea and coffee. When Fleur was backing the chocolate shots you were
cringing.”
I’m stunned speechless.
The idea of him watching me, wanting me, makes me squirm and my
tummy clench in a way that has me grinding my arse on the ground.
“At the concert you didn’t touch the chocolate covered strawberries, but
you ate the plain ones.” He’s watching me again, thumbnail scraping across
his dented lip as his eyes rove down my body with an intensity that makes
my entire being ache to get closer to him. When he meets my gaze again, he
adds, “I’m good with detail.”
 Like this, he looks like a God. Perfect and eternally flawed all at once.
A creature of myth and legend. A piece of art that pulls sensation and
feeling from me.
Leo has a power that is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, even without
touching me he affects me. He’s touching himself in the most innocent of
ways and it feels like something epically forbidden and illicit. My lips burn
from the way his thumb continues to trace his own, turning them redder
with every scratch of his nail.
“Insightful,” I murmur looking at the island in the middle of the pond
where the lazy ducks are all sitting.
“Huh?”
“You’re insightful.”
Getting up, he chuckles dryly as he wraps the chocolate croissant in the
paper bag he ripped. His focus on the task is so acute, it’s almost like he is
still hungry.
Maybe I’ve made him uncomfortable somehow, and that’s why he’s
getting up before he’s finished eating his breakfast.
“You can finish, we’re not in any rush.” Standing a little wobbly thanks
to my numb butt cheeks, I pull his jacket tighter around me.
“I…” Pausing, he pulls me to him before reaching into the pockets of
his jacket and taking out his cigarettes and lighter.
He taps one out, puts it between his lips and lights it. A soft plume of
smoke and sweet cherry, vanilla, and clove wafts toward me. I can’t help
but sigh at the smell. The way he sucks the drag into his lungs.
God have mercy.
When he puts the cigarettes and lighter back in the pocket he took them
from, he bends to pick up our coffee cups and I can’t help but appreciate the
curve of his firm arse.
Barely managing to disguise my perving when he stands, I follow him
back the way we came.
The sky is clearer, brighter and spring blue. There are taxis and
expensive stately cars driving up and down The Mall, the famous stretch of
Royal road.
At the square, he drops my almost empty coffee cup into a bin but keeps
his and the uneaten croissant.
Leo starts for the National Gallery and my heart goes wild with
excitement, even when we continue along the steps, I can’t tamp down the
fire inside me.
Reaching the side of the building, he looks into the alcoves along it and
then stops in front of a young homeless man. He crouches down and hands
him the croissant and his barely touched coffee. My wild heart stutters to a
jilted pause right before it melts in my chest.
How can a monster have so much kindness inside him?
I ask myself as I watch Leo hand the guy a folded-up note and then
stand back up. Before he walks back toward the entrance.
He guides me up the steps and through the busy portico, the main
vestibule and through the central hall. He’s walking around like he owns the
place as we walk through room after room and then he opens a door with a
guard on either side.
It’s one of the rooms that are currently closed for conservation, and he
has just waltzed in. It’s bizarre.
There’s no one here apart from us and as I do a complete three-sixty,
this place feels almost too big.
When I come to a stop, Leo’s watching me intently, his expression soft
and for a moment, I really do think that he’s going to lunge at me and just
hold me.
Instead, he turns and takes a few long steps until he comes to a complete
standstill in front of a painting I’ve never paid much mind to. It’s beautiful
for sure, the colours vivid and the light captured so perfectly that the
textures from the fabrics and the surroundings are almost palpable on my
fingertips.
Standing beside him, I look at it with maybe a little more fascination
than him. I can imagine what the woman’s fine, silky hair feels like on her
exposed shoulder. I can picture her stumbles as she kneels in front of the
beheading block. The wails of the women around her resound in my ears. I
can even smell the damp that would have made the room feel completely
closed up and dark. Except it’s not dark, her surroundings are awash with
light. It’s disconcerting.
I don’t understand why out of all the other beautiful masterpieces, this is
the one he stops in front of.
We stand, glued to the spot quietly for what feels like an eternity. I’m
getting restless. My insides are vibrating. My breaths are coming quicker.
The more I analyse the painting depicting the execution of Lady Jane Grey,
the more uneasy I feel.
 Something heavy settles in my gut at the way the lord’s coarse features
and shadowed eyes betray his gentle hands as he guides her down to her
knees. Her face is soft and the way her lips are set timidly, in fear, is
chilling me.
I know how she feels.
The panic I imagine she’s feeling is twisting inside me, choking me…
and son of a bitch, he knows what he’s doing.
This is just like the hospital, a lesson. He’s driving his point home in a
way he knows will stick, because that girl is just like me…a lamb to the
slaughter. A message.
“She didn’t want to be Queen, you know?” he says out of nowhere.
Yes, I do know that.
“It’s all a lie. A carefully construed twist of history that was manipulated
by men and that ultimately cost an innocent girl her life.” His words are like
daggers to my already bleeding heart. “A passive and helpless little girl in a
world of greedy, power-hungry men.”
Looking at him, my chest squeezes at the last part.
Little girl.
“The reality was that she was strong, intellectual, and brave. She was
dangerous because despite her want of a quiet unassuming life, she wasn’t
any of those things. She saw things she wasn’t meant to. Knew things that
her male counterparts had no idea of because in spite of their education,
their ego blinded them.”
When he looks down at me with his green eyes blazing like wildfire
waiting for the slightest spark to blow, I have to look away. I stare at the
painting in front of me, seeing it in an entirely new light even though I
already knew everything he said.
“I hate this painting. Delaroche imagined it all wrong. His attention to
detail is too vivid and glamorises the tableau he’s depicting. He watered
down her suffering and her bravery, the darkness of the setting, with bright
colours. He beautified a cruel act spurred by lies. A pointless exercise if you
ask me.”
A deep sigh leaves him, and he takes a step back. As if I’m a part of the
bigger picture, he watches me. Staying still, I give him what he wants until I
can’t bear the heat of his gaze any longer. I step back, beside him, removing
myself from that picture because I am not going to allow him to see me as
some victim.
 I’m here—well and alive. I am not some ill-fated princess and he needs
to know that. He needs to know that I can bear the weight of whatever it is
everyone is protecting me from.
“I get Kit a coffee and a chocolate croissant every morning. I can’t bring
myself not to now that he’s…” Leo’s voice breaks silently and although it
makes me sad for him, it sparks a fire inside me.
I can love you, protect you, and kill for you in one. Single. Breath.
I swear no one’s going to hurt you again.
The words repeat in my head again and again, and instead of making me
pull away like I believe they should, they urge me closer to him.
I know there is a demon behind his armour. I can feel it vibrating, trying
to claw its way out of him. But right now, all I see is a falling angel. His fire
although fierce needs feeding.
I want to feed it.
I might be his Little Girl, but I’m not the little girl in the painting. I am
more. And just like he protects me, I can look after him too.
Stepping as close as I can to him, I wrap my arm around his waist. My
head tucking snugly into the crook of his neck and as I expect him to try
and pull away, his head rests on mine.
His arms cross over his chest and when I rest my other hand on his
forearm—the same one with the cross and the birds I love—he exhales. It’s
deep and rushed. It makes him sag a little in my hold.
My Apollo. My young God that is equal parts shadow and light.
I want to protect him. Worship him. I want to keep him.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 20

CASSANDRA

T he front door swings open before Leo and I make it to the top
step, and before I can catch my breath, Mum lunges at me.
Her arms somehow wrap around me over Leo’s for the
longest moment before she takes a step back and proceeds to search me
from head to toe.
“I was so worried!” she confesses, stroking the grazes on the side of my
face. “What were you thinking staying out? After…after…”
“Penny, give them space.” Dad pulls her back into the house so that we
can go in and I don’t miss the nod he gives Leo. Stepping behind me he
wraps one of his arms around my chest, his hand squeezing my ribcage as
the other balances the caddy with our fresh coffees and Arabella’s hot
chocolate. The delicious croissants are his way of thanking her for sorting
out my clothing.
Wayne walks past my dad towards the kitchen and as they touch
shoulders he hands him the handgun Leo passed him earlier.
“That’s yours?” My words come out in a loud pissed off flurry, anger
lighting me up from the inside out. I don’t wait for my dad to reply as he
looks between me, my mother and Leo. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Cassandra!” The disapproval in my mother’s tone is blatant, as my
words and actions go against everything she’s taught me.
Well, she wasn’t the one with the gun to her head. Was she?
I’ve avoided putting myself right back in that dark tunnel, but now that
I’m here faced with my father and the shock muted in my system…
 “I told you, a job went wrong,” he barks, “you’re safe, that’s all that
matters.”
“I wasn’t safe yesterday, though, was I?”
“Cass…” Leo pulls me back to his side, as if that’s meant to pacify me.
“Don’t Cass me, you blew a man’s brains out, the same man who was so
close to blowing mine, and somehow, there’s no one knocking on our door.
Everything is back to normal.”
“Enough.” Mum shouts and for the first time I see her composure slip.
“Have you found him?” Leo asks my dad before I can get another word
out.
“No. I have Samson on it around the clock, but his accounts haven’t
been touched. The house is empty.”
“It’s time to burn it down.”
“Leo,” My father’s voice is coated in warning and it makes me bristle.
“I told you before, he doesn’t care about anything else.”
It’s impossible to make heads or tails of their conversation when I have
no clue what they’re talking about. “Who doesn’t care?”
“Somethings are better off left in the dark.” My mum answers, and
anger boils inside me at her words as she tries to pry me away from the
conversation.
“If that’s the case, then they should’ve left me in that tunnel.” Yanking
away from her, I stand beside Leo. “Is it too much to ask that you tell me
why it was me they were after? There were hundreds of other girls at that
party, so why me, Dad?”
“Because you’re the only one of those girls that could deliver the
message.”
“What message?” My yell echoes around us and when it stops, my
father takes a step towards me. I think he’s going to say something, but he
just looks at me for a quiet second before turning his back and disappearing
down the hall to his office.
“Don’t just walk away!” I bellow, following him, but before I make it
past the kitchen Leo is grabbing me by the arm and dragging me towards
the back of the house.
He goes through the kitchen, dumping the drinks and pastries on the
kitchen table.
“Let go of me! He can’t expect me to be okay with his half answers.”
 Moving like he’s walked these halls hundreds of times, he yanks the
door to the garden open and slams it behind us and then he’s walking me
across the expansive lawn towards the end of the garden.
“Have you forgotten what Kit looks like? Have you forgotten what
happened to you yesterday?”
Going back to that dark and sooty tunnel, my heart starts racing and I’m
not far from hyperventilating, and then I remember the unrecognisable man
in the bed. The beeping, whizzing and whirring of the machines keeping
him alive.
“Do you want to end up like him?”
“No.” I murmur. “I want to know why me?”
“Because the best way to get to a man is by touching the people he cares
about.” Cupping my jaw with desperate force, his lips press so tight to mine
that I feel the contour of his teeth behind them.
“We care, so let us do what it takes to keep you safe.” His fingers pull
and wind around the strands at my nape and then his lips are opening up,
his teeth roughly nipping and scraping at my lips. Lifting me onto my
tiptoes, my neck strains with the deadweight of my body.
“I. Just. Want. To. Keep. You. Safe.” He utters gruffly and deeply
between hard kisses.
Laving over mine, his tongue licks up to the roof of my mouth and as
my hands latch onto his hips, he groans gutturally down my throat.
Leo steps closer, heat engulfing me as his erection presses to my
stomach so hard that it makes me giddy with need.
“Fuck, Buttercup,” he growls as my hands trail up his solid abs and my
nails dig into his flesh.
Dropping one of his hands from my jaw to my arse, he presses me so
tight to him that I can feel him pulse and jerk. I squirm on the tips of my
toes and his breath catches just like it did yesterday when he made me
come. When I made him come.
My hands round to his back and slip down to his arse and I knead it in
the same way he did mine when we were dancing. Squeezing, I push, pull
and dig my nails in at the same time as I bite down on his lip and suck it
into my mouth.
“Stop.” Pulling away, he rubs the tip of his nose with mine and then
bites it gently. “Stop, Cass.”
 Leo’s looking, but he’s not seeing me. He’s seeing everything that
makes me. It’s like those green orbs can see past every physical barrier and
bore straight into my heart. My soul. My pain. My fears.
“Little Queen, you have no idea how far we’ll go to keep you safe.” He
strokes both of my cheeks with the backs of his fingers with a care that is
reserved for precious things. I’m still trying to understand how a man that
can be so volatile and rough, can also have so much tenderness inside him.
How he can care so much. “Last night was nothing compared to what I’m
willing to do to protect you.”
It’s in my nature. I can love you, protect you, and kill for you in one.
Single. Breath.
Recalling his words from last night, I don’t doubt him for a second. But
he thinks that I’m the only one who needs protecting when, in fact, he’s just
as vulnerable as I am. Maybe more because where I am fully aware of my
weakness, he seems to think that he’s invincible, but he’s not.
“I’m scared, Leo.” Tightening my arms around him, I tuck my face to
his chest breathing in his rich, strong scent. It’s sweet and potent and it
makes me feel warm.
“You shouldn’t be, we won’t let anyone touch you again.”
I tip my head back and look up into his eyes. “I’m scared that it’ll be
you in that bed and me standing at your feet, lost and alone.”
“Cassie…”
“What?”
Taking a deep breath, he opens his mouth to say something, but then
closes it again as he shakes his head slowly. “Nothing.”
I can see there’s something and just as I’m about to press him for it,
Arabella comes bounding out of the house yelling for him.
Holding my hand, he pulls me in front of him as we head back to the
house.
When we reach her halfway, she’s out of breath and her smile trembles
as she pants, “You’ve been summoned!”
“Summoned?”
“Yeah, your dad does that a lot. It’s a wonder this kid is in here,” she
points at her belly with both index fingers, “he loves to interrupt at the
worst times.”
“TMI, Bella.” Leo starts for the house with his arm wrapped around my
shoulder. “I thought something had happened.”
 “It probably has.” Sighing, her hand brushes her belly and her ring
glitters with the light. “Thanks for the treats, Wayne laid them out for me.”
“Thank you for the clothes.”
When we get in the house Leo drops a kiss to my forehead and heads in
the direction of my father’s office and although I’m tempted to follow, I sit
with Arabella instead.
Humming at my silence, she takes a hungry bite of one of the croissants,
cleaning the edges of her mouth as she sets it back on the plate in front of
her.
Once she’s chewed and swallowed down her mouthful she says, “I’ve
only ever seen him that scared and angry once.”
I look at her confused because I’m not really all that sure of what
conversation she’s starting.
“Leo,” she murmurs with a smile. “I know him; he doesn’t love easily.
He doesn’t open himself like other people do. Through no fault of his own,
he’s a bit of a loner and he doesn’t trust freely. He’s different with you
though. Normal, almost, or as normal as anyone can ever be.”
“With me?”
“Yeah, with you. You’re quiet and calm and I think he likes that. I think
he sees what he wants for himself in you. Let him in, Cassie. Let him do
what he needs to do to feel like he deserves you.”
“Why wouldn’t he deserve me?” My voice comes out sharp and irate
because the idea that he feels or believes that he doesn’t deserve me is
deplorable.
“His father is…he’s not like ours.” She confesses, sighing and I can’t
ignore the way her face twists. “He’s nothing like his father though. Believe
me, if you knew the man you wouldn’t even think they share the same
DNA.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I know him, and I know that sooner or later he’s going to have
some sort of moral trip and think that the best thing is to push you away.
You need to be prepared for it so you can persevere and make him see
sense.”
Her words make me feel sick. The idea that Leo could change his mind
about me is almost as terrifying as having a gun pointed at my head.
“I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I’m doing. He
overwhelms me.”
 “Good news is that everything you’re feeling, he’s feeling too.” Picking
the remainder of her half-eaten croissant apart, she laughs.
“How is that good news?”
“One, you can learn together, so you’re on even footing. Two, it means
you care, and caring is half the battle. Trust me, some days I really have to
grab hold of all the cares I have for your brother.” Glancing down at her
belly wistfully, she smiles like she’s so in love that she doesn’t know what
to do with herself or with it.
“If he’s such hard work, why are you still with him?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Because the roughest twenty-four-hours with the right
person could be more than a peaceful lifetime with the average Joe.” The
corner of her mouth tips up into a soft smile and she adds, “Christopher is
my right person, even if he is an arsehole for the most part. He’s mine.”
“You can keep him.”
“Thanks.” She gives me a big toothy smile and then takes a deep breath.
“You’re welcome, take him, lock him away, he’s all yours.”
“Aww…” Cooing, she reaches for the cup holder that still has mine and
Leo’s coffees in. “You’re funny, I never had Leo pegged as the funny girl
type. Then again I never had him down as the cheesy gesture type either.”
She plucks one of the cups out of the holder and hands it to me. I lose
track of everything.
I read the note on my coffee cup again and again, and for the life of me,
I’m incapable of controlling my stupid, overwhelming feelings.

“Yeah, I got stupidly teary too, fucking hormones,” she grumbles.

“What’s your excuse?”
Stupid boy. He spent part of the day being a grump and being rough and
broody. Then he does something like this, and I am floored.
 I saw him scribble on one of the cups with the marker the lady at the
coffee shop gave him. I thought he was marking which was the hot
chocolate. I didn’t give it two thoughts.
“I need a pen.” I say as Arabella starts to get up.
“What do you think I’m getting up for?” she says, laughing as she goes
to one of the kitchen drawers that probably hasn’t been opened since we
were kids and pulls out an ancient looking marker.
“How old is that thing?”
“Who cares? It’s green, like his eyes. Think of it as my input into your
cheesy reply.”
I take his cup and write YES, underlining it just to make sure he gets the
message and then I jump up from my seat. Standing there stupidly,
pondering what to do.
“Well, take it to him then!” Arabella says as she tugs me by the arm
towards my father’s office. When we get to the door she says, “Knock!”
“Knock?” Shit, my heart might actually burst from my chest any
moment now.
When I don’t move, she knocks loudly. Three times. And then she legs
it.
Ugh. I’m frozen on the spot not knowing what to do when Casper opens
the door and I can tell that the quiet coming from inside the office is forced.
Like they don’t want anyone hearing what they’re discussing.
“Princess?” he asks, his eyes wide because I’m still rendered
speechless. Chuckling, he hollers, “Numbers boy!”
Numbers boy?
Leo opens the door wide and I get a glimpse inside. My father’s desk is
still in the middle of the room, Christopher and Freddie are sitting around it
with Dad and Casper joins them. The mahogany wall on the left is covered
in papers with a whiteboard beside it with so many numbers my eyes cross.
“Hey.” Leo closes the door behind him and looks at me, surprised. “You
okay?”
“Yes. I think. Yes.”
“You think yes?” He comes closer.
Before he thinks I’m any more of an idiot I hold up his coffee with the
big, fat YES facing him. “Yes!”
A soft smile filters through his features as he takes the cup from me and
leans down, he tips my chin up with his free hand and ghosts my lips with
his.
He breathes in so deeply that I’m sure he’s going to inhale me into his
lungs, and then he licks across the seam of my lips once. Twice. And again,
until I’m panting, and my brain goes to mush, my legs to jelly.
The kiss he presses onto them is soft and full of reverence. It’s unlike
any kiss he’s given me so far. So sweet.
“I’m taking you out tonight.” He says as he pulls away with a smile.
“I’ll come find you when we’re done here.”
Biting his lip, he brushes my hair back before kissing my forehead.
Hard. So hard that I think I’ll have the stamp of his lips on it.
“Yay!” We both turn to the end of the hall where Arabella is standing
with her hands balled at her chin, excitement crinkling her face.
Goofy smiling at his coffee cup, Leo turns and heads back into the
office.
I want to keep doing that. I want to keep making him smile.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 21

LEO

F rancis ends our impromptu meeting, Casper and Freddie are

already half way out of the door and I’m still trying to make
sense of the numbers in front of me. I’m still logged on to
the Fairfax Capital interface. Freddie managed to clone my father’s account
and whilst I’m trying to trace the dodgy movements Francis and I have
listed. We’re also looking out for any new activity.
But there’s been nothing. Zilch. Since the night of Walter Gladstone’s
birthday there’s been fuck all.
“Leo, son, take a break.” Francis gets up from the chair beside mine.
“It’s been a stressful twenty-four hours. Take some time, clear your head.
Recoup and we’ll regroup on Monday.”
“A-ha.” I murmur, only half listening.
“Torch has another payment coming next week. I’m going to need you
to take care of it. Charles and Harry need this one to be well and truly
buried, if the Russians get wind that the government is messing with
them… After last night we’re not taking any chances.”
“Last night isn’t happening again.”
“I have Wayne on it, but your stunt this morning… Son, Cassie is smart,
you give her a nugget and she’ll find the mine.”
“She needed to understand the severity of the danger she’s in, and now
she does.” Looking up at him, I hold his hard gaze. He’s still pissed at me,
and he can stay angry because regardless of all the threats he can spew at
me. Regardless of all the ways he can berate me in front of all the other
guys. I am right. I did what needed to be done.
“Don’t forget the payment,” he says turning for the door.
“Oka…”
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
“I know why we can’t trace the money. It’s been staring us in the face.”
Dropping back in his seat, he tilts my screen so he can see it too.
“This whole time it’s been right here.” I pull up our records and the
Fairfax Capital log.
“What am I looking at?”
“They’re not cleaning money.” I can’t believe I’ve missed this. I can’t
believe that I’ve been so fucking slow and stupid. “They’re payments. He’s
using the same method as us.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Who would the Russians want to pay off?”
Francis is as glued to the screen as I am.
I pull up the logs I’ve gone through repeatedly with a nit comb.
“I don’t know, but now that I know this, I can look at it all differently.” I
explain to him how I can break down the transactions and with any luck I
can trace all the movements to the core.
“Jesus, how did you figure that out now?” Standing up again, he closes
my MacBook.
“I don’t know, I was just thinking about setting up the payment and the
numbers and tangled lines unscrambled? I guess?”
“You guess?” he laughs, shaking his head. “Get out of here.”
Jumping up, I have to stretch because spending the last three hours
hunched over my screen has made my muscles cramp.
I’m about to walk out of the office to find Cassie, but I stop and turn to
him. “I need to ask you something.”
He smiles, like he always does. Francis Sinclair is so approachable
you’d never believe he’s a killer. He has all the signs that read safe, moral,
righteous, rich businessman and none that read, fuck with me and I’ll pulp
your brain, or gun for hire.
Shit, he might actually kill me.
“I’d like to take Cassie out.” I say as clearly as possible so that he
knows my intention.
“Right.” Sitting on the edge of the desk, he crosses his ankles and tucks
his hands into his pockets, narrowing his eyes on me.
 He looks casual as can be in his jeans and long sleeve polo, but the way
he holds himself is anything but.
“I want to take her on a date.” I tell him and then I add, “Without all the
security.”
I can’t believe what I’m asking him because it’s reckless, especially
after last night.
But I want her to have all the normal experiences other girls have at her
age. I want her to have all these memories to look back on, and I want to be
the one that’s in them. I never want her to forget me. No matter what.
“Okay,” Francis nods and then says, “No detail, just Wayne. I’ll tell him
to stay at a reasonable distance.
“Wayne?” He’s like my dad.
“Yes.”
“You’re serious…”
“Deadly.” Standing, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Leo?”
My heart hammers in my chest at the way he says my name. “Yes?”
“Don’t make me regret this. If you hurt my girl, I won’t be accountable
for what will happen to you.”
His threat is spoken softly and low, but it’s none-the-less expressive.
“Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Reaching back and into the drawer of his desk, he takes the
Glock he handed me yesterday and checks the magazine before holding it
out to me. “Take it, and don’t pass it off on Wayne because Cassie throws
her toys out of the pram.” When I take the gun from him, he says, “Good
work today. Hopefully we find what we’re looking for soon.”
The heavy metal settles in the front pocket of my hoodie, mirroring the
weight of all my feelings…for Cassie, my father. Complete opposites but
just as strong and unwavering.
“You really haven’t got any idea where he is?”
“Lucian has always been good at dropping off the radar when it suits
him. Your father has a knack for ghosting.” Francis says, sighing as he
walks me with him out of the office.
“I need to tell Cassie about him. She needs to know.” I chance a look at
him and find him already looking at me with a seriousness that cuts through
my righteous resolve.
 “You want to protect her, then you make sure we get to the bottom of
this quick.” He slaps my shoulder and stops me at the bottom of the stairs.
“It’s not just about protecting her, I…” Searching carefully for the right
words, I decide to go with the simple truth. “I can’t lie to her, Francis.
She’ll be devastated when she finds out the truth. You’ve warned me not to
hurt her…”
“What do you think will hurt her more? The truth as she knows it, or the
full measure of it?”
“He murdered her grandfather…he almost got her killed! She deserves
to know that before she gets in deep with me.”
“We both know it’s too late for that.” As he opens his mouth to
continue, Penny comes from the reception room, and Arabella follows with
Christopher draped all over her.
“Are you all finished for today?” Smiling softy, she adds, “Dinner’s
ready.”
I inwardly flail with my words, I don’t want to upset her by turning
down the offer, but I have plans with Cassie. Plans I really don’t want to
cancel or postpone.
Christopher hitches his brow with amusement, because Arabella has
probably already told him what my plans are for tonight. Looking back to
Penny, and then to Francis, who has the same bemused tilt to his face, I’m
about to try and waffle my way out of her invitation when he says,
“Actually, I think Leo and Cassandra have plans of their own.”
“We do.”
My head spins quicker than ever to find my beautiful girl.
“Hey!” she sings.
I’m taken aback and left completely speechless all at once. Cassie’s
standing there looking incredible in her loose fitting jeans that make her
gorgeous hips look so rounded and full I can barely stop myself from
grabbing onto them with my greedy hands. Her waist looks miniscule with
the way they band around it. They have tears and frays on her thighs and
knees and the way she has them turned up shows off her delicate ankles.
The golden yellow shirt she’s wearing is simple, tied artfully at her
waist so that although it’s not buttoned up, it’s not showing too much.
There’s just enough skin to make it difficult for me to control the water
filling my mouth. I’m salivating at the sight of her with her long mermaid
like hair glittering in the light. The strands shimmering gold, silver and
platinum.
Penny clears her throat, looking between us. “I didn’t realise you had
plans…together.”
“It was an impromptu decision.” I say, trying not to sound like her
offish reaction is bothering me.
I’ve known Penelope Sinclair a long time and she’s always been kind,
welcoming and pleasant to me, but right now I can tell she’s not all too
happy that I’m taking her daughter out.
“Shall we go?” Cassie asks from beside me.
She doesn’t wait for me to answer, or anything else to be said.
Threading her arm through mine, she starts for the door and I have no
choice but to allow her to lead me.
Something I never let a woman do to me.

I CAN FEEL her watching me as I drive through the London back roads.
The sky is purpling with the setting sun, and it’s a pity that it’s happening so
early, because I think she’d enjoy seeing it paint the city with its last blare
of light.
“Why are you so quiet?”
“Why are you?” Glancing at her, I find her quirked expression flushed.
“I’m watching you, like you watch me. I’m trying to understand your
stalker tendencies.”
She’s laughing as she sits back into the red leather and fuck me it’s the
most incredible sound I’ve ever heard. “And?”
“And I’m enjoying looking at you. Although, I’m not sure why you find
me so fascinating.”
“Why are you enjoying it?”
Licking her lip, she turns to look out of the window. I swear I see her
content expression fall, and my lungs crumple with my heart dragging out
its beats painfully.
“I feel like I can see more into you. Like maybe I can piece your puzzle
together, even though you don’t tell me much.” She answers. Her longing
sigh mists her window and I watch her draw a five petaled flower that looks
a lot like a doodle of a Buttercup.
My smile is so forceful it overrides the ache in my chest from her
wistful expression.
Changing the music from the radio to my iPhone, she turns to look at
me with a quirk of her lips.
“I like this song,” she says, as she softly shimmies her shoulders to the
beat of Carla Thomas’ Baby. “I watched the film with the heist driver.”
“Baby Driver?” It doesn’t seem like the sort of film she’d enjoy, but
then I suppose it has a love story attached to it.
“Yeah, Fleur loves Ansel Elgort. It was really good, better than I thought
it would be. Or at least I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. I’m sure
it’s a brilliant film, but I’m more of a romantic comedy girl. Actually, I’m
just a romantic full stop.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed.” I wouldn’t expect her to be anything but a
romanticist.
It’s part of the reason I like her so much, her heart eyes have rose tinted
glasses on constantly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, lightly punching my arm
before she turns up the Le Freak tune. “Should I start calling you John
Travolta? I didn’t have you pegged as a Disco lover, not with all your
broody thing.”
“My broody thing?”
“Yeah, you know the whole, I like you but don’t come near because I’m
all dark and twisted and I have a tonne of angst attitude.”
“That’s not me.”
“It is though. I mean apart from it making you an arsehole on occasion,
I think it adds to the allure.”
I’ve never heard her talk this much, she’s normally the one listening to
everyone else talk at her. Not that she’s talking at me, and even if she were,
I’d still like it.
I like listening to her. Her voice is soothing and she’s not really the sort
of person that tries to talk for the sake of talking or to make an impression.
She’s not deep for the sake of it, she’s just her, I guess.
“I’m not a massive fan of Disco, I just really like Nial Rogers. He’s
amazing.” Driving up the steep North London hill, I turn the music up a
little more and I’m tempted to stop just so I can watch her like this. Cassie’s
beautiful in every sense of the word, but right now? She’s something else
entirely, I have no words for it. “I don’t have a favourite music genre, but I
like the classics. Not just in classical music, I like Soul and Funk and
Blues.”
“My dad likes those too.” There’s a teasing tone to her voice, but she’s
keeping a straight face.
Parking the car in the deserted car park, I get out and walk round to her
side so I can open her door before I collect our food and coats from the
boot. I slip the gun from my pocket into the small duffle containing the
blankets and the food I asked Arabella to sort out.
Cassie’s leaning back on the bonnet of the Maserati and fuck my life she
looks phenomenal with her hair sashaying with the breeze.
I just want to wrap the messy lengths around my fists and enjoy the way
they cut into my hands as I kiss her.
“What are you looking at, Mr. Creepo Neat Freak?” With her head tilted
back, the moonlight reflects off her peachy skin.
“You make me sound like some psycho, perfect for TV serial killer.”
“Well…” Her legs open as I come closer, the smile on her face sobers
and when I drop the bag with the food and coats beside her on the bonnet,
her fingertips roam the top of my cheeks. “You did kill a man.”
My heart knocks on my ribcage as I murmur, “For you.”
“For me,” she whispers back.
“To protect you.”
“So you can watch me?” Raking down my face, her eyes glaze over
with lusty need. And I want to deliver on every fucking thought in her head
right now.
“No.”
“So you can touch me?” She ruffles her hair and tucks it behind her ear
before trailing her fingers down her chest. Eyes on mine, she presses her
hand to mine. She’s a tease with her innocent eyes and needy touches.
“Maybe.”
I can tell she’s asking something, but she’s not comfortable doing it
outright.
“What do you really want to ask, Cass?”
Flicking up to mine, her eyes round as her teeth worry her lip, not in the
way she does when she’s aroused or intrigued. The look on her face is
reticent.
 “Ask me. Anything.” My hands flatten on the bonnet, either side of her.
“I’m scared it’ll make me hate you.” Her murmurs are breathy and as I
lean over her, her hands fist my hoodie.
“I thought you already do.” My fucking insides twist and snag as I
remember our words the night of the party.
I hate you.
I hate you too.
“I hate how much I like you.” Looking up at me, her eyes have a wary
glisten to them.
“You should hate me. You should hate me so much that you push me
away, because fuck knows I can’t stay away from you. I’m no good for you,
Cassie.” I don’t want to mean any of these things, but I do.
However, what I mean and what I do, are two very different things.
Words and actions don’t always add up.
“Casper called you Numbers boy, so I assume you’re good at maths?”
Pausing to look at me with narrowed eyes, she continues, “Well, then you
should know that two negatives always equate to a positive.”
“Yeah, they do.”
“You’re no good for me, and I’m no good for you. After all, I turned
you into a killer, didn’t I?”
The way she asks is loaded with apprehension, and I realise that what
she wants to know is if I’ve murdered before.
“I turned me into a killer, not you. The world is better off without that
shit, but it needs the beats of your pretty little heart.”
“In that case, you’re exactly what I need to protect me.”
“To protect you.”
“Yeah,” she breathes leaning up to tuck her face into my neck. “And
watch me…touch me. I like it when you touch me.”
“I like touching you.” Moving my hands to the crease where her thighs
meet her hips, I squeeze. Her breath hitches, her calves wind around mine
and when I lower my face to drop a kiss to her forehead, she tilts her face to
mine and steals my kiss with her lips.
My little thief.
I think she’s stealing a lot more than my kisses, if I’m honest. Mind you,
is it really stealing when I so readily part with all the things she’s taking?
Her teeth bite down on my bottom lip, pressing it onto her own and as
my hands grip her tighter, her tongue dips into my mouth. Tentative at first,
and the more I let her explore, the more confident she gets. She licks, sucks,
and bites like we’ve been doing this together for a long time.
God, it’s getting harder to hold back, my dick is so hard that I could
give her exactly what she wants right here, right now.
“Cass.”
“Hmm…”
Picking her up off the car I place her on her feet, her audible huff makes
my chest swell because yeah, kissing her might become a new hobby.
“The food’s going to get cold.” I tell her, grabbing the duffel and our
coats and then her hand. I lead her down the path to the open grassy area
overlooking the city.
Watching as I lay out the blanket Arabella packed, she smiles wide and
that alone makes this the best date I’ve ever been on. Not that I’ve been on
many.
I’m about to reach for the duffel when she beats me to it, my heart falls
to my stomach as she opens it and her eyes flash to mine. Waiting for her to
lose her shit, I ready myself to take the hit…this was going so well.
Her freak out never comes. Taking a deep breath she pulls the insulated
bag with the food out and hands it to me followed by the bottle of
champagne Arabella insisted on.
“Cassie…” Her silence is twisting me every which way and I can’t take
it.
“I’m letting you protect me, Leo.”
Nodding, I pull out the McDonalds and Burger King bags and when she
sits beside me, her smile is back.
“You remembered.”
“You’re a BK girl.”
“Yeah,” she murmurs softly as she shuffles closer and then straddles my
lap. “I want to keep you.”
Those are the best words I’ve ever heard and although I know that they
might not be true forever, I ignore the nagging feeling and let myself revel
in the moment.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 22

LEO

T he gates to the Sinclair London home open the minute I turn

into the drive and before I’ve even come to a stop Wayne is
opening the front door and stepping out to inspect the
courtyard.
I’ve grown used to having him chaperone Cassie and I on our dates over
the last three weeks. She’s so easy to please that it should really be a crime.
Cassie doesn’t care for showy gestures, she’s happy keeping things simple
and quiet.
I like that, and the fact that she doesn’t need a constant audience makes
me admire her even more. I look at her and in spite of my constant need to
make sure she’s safe, in spite of that constant worry, I feel at peace.
It’s strange because I never thought I was tortured before, but she makes
every second before her feel like I was lost in my own personal hell.
Even when I visit Kit, and she’s with me, I feel like everything is going
to be okay. I know that with every day that has passed the last three months,
the likelihood of Kit being all right has decreased. It’s an intolerable notion
I can’t shake. It’s constantly on my mind and in my thoughts.
My mother is driving herself insane looking at every possible treatment,
every possible avenue we can explore to get him back, but he’s already got
the best fucking doctors taking care of him.
I’m about to cut the engine and get out when Cassie skips out of the
front door with a huge smile on her face. Her blonde mane is knotted on the
top of her head messily, she’s wearing those jeans I love that make the most
of her curvy hips and tiny waist and a cropped Levi’s T-shirt with all the
Charlie Brown gang across her chest.
Cassie has this impossibly sexy, cute vibe that plays up on her doll like
features and queenly mannerisms. She’s beguiling as fuck; I can’t
understand how she can be so down to earth with everything she has about
her. I’ve seen girls with less than half her allure act like they own the
universe.
Toby’s got his head all the way in the front from between the seats, and
he’s panting like she’s a fresh bowl of water after he’s been for his run.
“Sit.” As always when she’s around he ignores me. “Toby, sit, now! I’ll
put you in the Range with Wayne.”
Looking at me, I swear he’s giving me screw you eyes.
“Don’t you look at me like that. She’s mine, not yours. Go get your own
female.”
“Your female?” Laughing, she slides into the car. “You haven’t quite
made me that yet, Neat Freak.”
She gives me that same sultry quirk she’s given me every time we’re
alone and she wants more intimacy. It’s not that I don’t want to have her, to
fuck her…it’s just that she’s so perfect, and I’m so me. I know where things
are going, it gets harder and harder to push her away. It gets harder to stop
with her coming around my fingers or from the mere friction of my cock.
I want her to be sure. I don’t want her to look back and regret giving me
something she can’t take back. I don’t want to regret taking something in
the heat of the moment.
I have enough regrets as it is.
“Cat got your tongue?” Teasing me, she makes a fuss of Toby.
When he’s satisfied with the attention he’s received and is sprawled
across the back seats, she leans over the centre console, her hands find my
left thigh and squeeze as she ghosts her lips over mine.
“Hey,” she murmurs as I circle her waist with my left arm and press my
lips to hers.
Humming, a long, drawn out moan, her nails start to dig into my jean
clad flesh. When I pull away she pouts and falls back into her seat in a
mock sulk. “Where are you taking me?”
Following Wayne’s Range out of the drive, I tell her, “Trevellas.”
“You’re taking me to Heaver’s Hall?” Disappointment tinges her voice,
and I smile because yes, I’m taking her to the Sinclair country home, but
we’re going to make a couple of stop-offs along the way, that I hope she’ll
love.
“We’ll stop off at McDonalds and BK along the way…” I say as I turn
up the radio.
The sun is shining so bright for a mid-April morning. There isn’t a
single cloud in the entire sky and it’s warm. It’s so warm that I have to take
my hoodie off before we make it down her road.
I grin as she sighs when we go past the London Zoo that is practically
on her doorstep. I didn’t think she was going to enjoy that date as much as
she did. Cassie’s not an outdoorsy person, as such. She loves horses and the
sea, but for the most part she enjoys gallery hopping and museum
mooching. She’s a cultural geek, and I love that about her.
She knows the most random facts and stories. Once in a while she’ll
come out with something and I’ll have to rewind and playback before
carrying on.
“You know, for someone that likes to work out so much, you sure love
to eat a lot of crap. You’re a gym rat with a couch potato appetite.” With her
looking at me with that soft smile, I contemplate coming to a hard stop to
kiss every inch of it.
Her fingers comb the lose tendrils back into her bun and then sweep
over her cheeks, and although she’s wearing make-up it’s very minimal.
The tiny beauty spots at the corner of her lips are still visible to me and now
that the weather is gracing us with a lot more sunshine, the tiniest freckles
are dusted on the apples of her cheeks and scatter to her cheekbones.
They’re so small and faint, you miss them if you don’t really look at her
beautiful face.
“I like to keep a balance.”
Turning up the volume on her current favourite chart hit, she dances and
sings along to Last Hurrah as we make it onto the motorway. When that
song finishes she skips all the following songs until another Bebe Rexha
song comes on and then she’s off again.
I can’t help but feel like this is the best day I’ve ever had with her next
to me, and I wonder if every day would feel like this with her beside me.
I EXPECTED Cassie to fall asleep on the long drive down, but she’s so
perky that my super late night doesn’t hit me for the first couple of hours.
“I could’ve driven us down.” Her hand squeezes my thigh, her nails
digging in like she’s trying to pinch me out of my lull.
“I’m the man. I drive.”
Bursting into a fit of laughter she snorts, “Okay, bossy pants. I thought
your music taste was a little old, but this…hello caveman!”
The silence following her laugh is stark. I’m finding it hard not to miss
it.
“Wait, services!” she shouts out of nowhere, half scaring the shit out of
me. “Let’s go get you caffeinated and sugared up since you insist on being a
stubborn ass.”
“You’re not driving this car.” I let her drive it once, never again. Put her
behind the wheel and she thinks she’s Fernando Alonso.
I pull into the services and as I meet her by her door she stretches onto
her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my jaw.
“I have my own car.” She shrugs as I take her hand and we wait for
Wayne to come mind Toby.
“It’s not a car. They’ve basterdised a decent motor into a Barbie
mobile.”
“You and Freddie can fuck right off. I love my baby!”
Not as much as I love you. I pull her closer and walk us towards the
building.
“What? The cat got your tongue?”
“Nope, it’s a pointless discussion. I’m the man, when we’re together, I
drive. Simple. End of.”
She looks up at me with her lip pinched between her teeth and her eyes
fluttering with want. Like she has a million feelings to speak but can’t find
the words so instead her hands hold on to me tighter, her body presses
closer to my side and her eyes…those fucking beautiful honeyed eyes bore
into mine like she really wants to kiss me.
This girl is becoming my whole world and there is nothing I can do. My
heart is under siege, all I can do is surrender.
“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me, yet?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise. Stop asking.”
“Fine.” Resting her head on my shoulder she quickens her steps as
Wayne follows us to the entrance with Toby.
 “Don’t be long,” he says, as we carry on inside without him.
We don’t take long at all. We replenish our sugar and caffeine supplies
quickly. Cassie makes sure she picks him up his usual tea, a treat, and a
water.
When we get back to the car, she searches the dash for a moment and
then goes for the roof control button. Watching as she puts the roof down, I
revel in her contentment.
“The weather’s nice.” She shrugs, slipping her Wayfarer sunglasses on
and when we go on our way, she does this cute squee that has my heart
skipping beats and all that mushy shit.
The rest of the drive is quick as we get onto the country roads. It’s all
open fields and dirt roads.
“Why did you come off early?” She has a moment of question when I
take a different exit to the one that we would normally take to get to
Heaver’s Hall.
“I thought we could take a detour.”
“A detour?” she asks, checking that Wayne is still following behind us.
Toby has his massive head in the way of her vision, his tongue flapping
around in the bluster.
“Yeah, you know, catch some rays, see some sights…”
“What are you up to?” Lifting her sunglasses, she narrows her eyes at
me with a pinched smile.
“Lions, tigers and bears…”
“Stop teasing me.”
I drive up the beat up, gravelly road and into the car park. She’s so
caught up in staring at me that she doesn’t realise where we are.
“What are you doing?” Cutting the engine, I turn to look at her too.
“Looking,” she winks, “at you, Neat Freak.”
Of course she is, I wonder if she’s hoping to break me with her lusty,
longing stares. If she is, it’s working.
“So, you still want to feed some tigers?”
Gasping, she looks around and finally takes stock of where we are.
“Are you kidding me?”
“We didn’t get to do it in London, and you were really disappointed,
so…” I don’t get a chance to finish because she clambers over the centre
console and straddles my lap.
 She picks my sunglasses off my face and drops them into her seat with
hers and then, her hands cup my face. Before I can catch a breath, her lips
are mashing onto mine. She’s licking and nipping. When she needs to come
up for air, she rubs the tip of her nose with mine.
Her panting breaths coat my lips and my jaw and as she shimmies closer
her crotch rubs my already semi-hardened cock.
Dear fucking God.
My hands instinctively cup her rounded arse and squeeze, earning me a
low, growly moan from her.
“We have an audience.” I murmur in between soft bites of her lips.
“We always have an audience.” She acknowledges, as she reaches back
and presses the button to close the roof. Tucking her face into my neck as
she ducks the soft top, her tongue sweeps up the sensitive skin behind my
ear. My dick jerks in the tight confines of my jeans as her teeth sink into my
flesh.
“Cass…”
“Leo,” she whispers into my ear. “If I beg, if I go on my hands and
knees, will you want me?”
“I do want you. I want your smiles and your tears. There’s nothing more
certain than my want of you. Like this, naked, and in every possible way.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
I stroke her faint smile with my thumbs and take her in as she looks
down on me. I hate that smile. It reminds me that she still carries around so
much sadness on her. The way she sometimes zones out and tears glisten in
her eyes, she says that it’s the memories. Memories of her grandfather that
she never thought would be just that—memories.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she demands.
“Like what?” Pulling her as close as I can, my heart stutters like it’s
trying to fit an extra beat in its erratic rhythm.
“Like you’re the glue that’s going to put me back together.”
She’s wrong, I’m not going to be the one that fixes her. I can’t even fix
myself. I also know that she doesn’t want to be saved like a weak princess
locked in a tower waiting for her prince to steal the limelight. No, she wants
someone that will stand by her side and hand her the weapon she’ll use to
save herself.
It’s frustrating that she forgets this about herself but reminding her is
going to be the best thing I ever do.
 “Are you going to fix me, Leo?”
“Little Girl, I’m not the glue. I’m the dark sky. I’ll swallow you whole.”
Her hands slide up my chest at the same time as her eyes glass over with
restrained tears. I’m about to kiss her when one rolls down her left cheek,
and another chases it on the right one. Before I get to catch them with my
tongue, she’s crushing her lips to mine, hard and hungry.
Licking into my mouth with urgency, she moans, like she can taste my
own need. It’s rough and coated in all the things that make her—sweetness,
innocence, power, and fire.
I want her so much that it staggers me. I know that in the end she’ll burn
me, but in this moment, I am Icarus and she is my sun. My love of her
draws me closer, and it might be my undoing, but fuck it if I care right now,
because what’s the point of playing with fire if you don’t get burned a little?
Pulling away with a scrape of her teeth on my lips, she catches her
breath as she looks down at me. “What are you waiting for?”
“For you to feed the tigers!”
“God, you’re an arsehole!” she growls, slapping my chest as she opens
my door.
She gets out and stands waiting with her hands on her hips as I readjust
myself. Toby manages to scramble from the backseat and over my lap. He’s
at her side before I can grab his collar.
He sits at her feet like she’s his mistress. His and mine. Getting out, I
clip his lead onto his collar before Wayne takes him.
“As far as arseholes go, I’m the sweetest you’ll ever know.” Wrapping
my arm around her shoulders, I pull her into my side.
“Turns out I know a lot of them.” Cassie smarts back and I can’t contain
the big as fuck grin that tears my face to the point my cheeks hurt.
And I promise myself that I’m going to do everything I can to deserve
her.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 23

LEO

I t’s ungodly o’clock and the room is dark save the softly diffused
silver light coming from the windows. We’re in the country and
I can’t bring myself to close the curtains, I can’t sleep anyway.
The almost six-hour drive down coupled with our trip to Dartmoor Zoo
and picnic at Bodmin Jail should have taken care of my restlessness. I’m
exhausted, but my mind is working overtime.
I’m trying to connect all the dots in my head. But, I’ve followed every
fucking trail and they lead to nothing. My head is a tangled mess of strings
connecting numbers, letters, and dates—leading to fuck all. Numbers are
my thing. Nothing makes more sense to me. This is torture. It’s like giving
an artist a brush dipped in invisible ink.
Lying here isn’t helping either. I know Cassie’s right down the hall and
every part of my exhausted body is urging me to go to her.
My little Queen.
Thinking of her makes me smile, she makes me want to do things to her
that I have no business wanting.
Getting up, I stalk the floor at the bottom of the bed, it’s smaller than
mine. The room is fussier, and it has all the trappings of an old, history clad
building.
Cassie brings out a side of me that is almost impossible to rein in.
Something about her cuts to my core and has shit spilling left, right and
centre.
 I’m pacing towards the bathroom on the opposite side of the room when
there’s a low knock right before the door creaks open.
I turn and she’s already stepping into the room. Her eyes are wide, and
her jaw is twitching nervously as she closes the door but the lock never
clicks.
“Where’s your friend?” Toby refused to leave her side when we got
here. He whined and whined until she let him in her room.
“In my bed.” Although her shrug is a little shy, the upturn of her lips is
anything but.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I tell her, even though it’s a way of reminding
myself that we are under her parents’ roof and Christopher is in the room
next door.
“I want to be.” Her slender body just touches the back of the door, not
enough to close it properly though.
Gaze roving down my body, she looks at me in that sort of speechless
way that makes me wonder whether she likes what she sees or maybe she’s
still getting used to seeing so much.
But then I’ve seen a lot before and looking at her…holy fuck!
Cassie is so beautiful with her not quite platinum hair. Her locks are a
unique blend of yellow, gold, white and silver. They flick in disarray at the
ends and the front tendrils that frame her face are curled from the way she
twists them when she’s lost in thought.
“You’re looking at me like glue again.” She murmurs softly.
I start for her, taking in her flimsy black vest that ends just short of the
top of her black, legging like pyjama bottoms. It’s nothing special, but I’m
clenching my stomach muscles hoping that the sudden heat in my boxers
isn’t followed by another hard-on.
Her palms flatten on the door behind her, pushing her modest assets
towards me.
I’m a man looking at a saint, on the verge of sin. I should be contrite but
fuck it if I am. Unable to look away, every cell of my being is sparking with
need for her.
Splaying my hands on either side of her head, I lean down to inhale her
warm pear and jasmine scent. Her audible swallow is followed by a shaky
exhale as the door clicks closed, and I know I won’t be able to hold back
anymore.
 “Not glue,” she rasps, her chest vibrating with her trembling breaths.
“The dark sky that swallows me whole.”
I do swallow, because when she tilts her head back and her hair falls
from her face, behind her shoulders, all I can see is the most sumptuous,
peaches and cream skin.
My mouth is watering. I want to bite and suck on her flesh until my
taste buds are buzzing and all that I can savour is the brine of her skin that’s
heated by the blood pulling between its layers.
She’s so beautiful like this. Soft and pure.
“Don’t change, Cass.”
Her brows furrow in confusion and when I look down between us, her
hands cup my face. There’s so much affection in that simple touch that it
frightens me.
Religion teaches you to fear evil, but the truth is that it’s good that
should be feared. There’s a reason demons and monsters live in shadow, it’s
not because there’s safety in the dark. It’s because there, it’s so much easier
to hide our anxieties and flaws. When you live in the light, you have
nowhere to hide.
Cassie is all light. In every possible way.
As much as I don’t want to be the one to taint her, I’m not righteous.
Right now, I’m lust and greed. I am gluttonous for her. I want to taste her
and feast on her until I am satisfied and then I want to keep going until I’m
so gorged that I’m bursting.
“Leo.” Whispering breathily, her hands slide down my jaw and my neck
to my shoulders before they slip down my bare chest.
They leave heated trails as her body lowers gracefully and she drops to
her knees. Her eyes never leaving mine, I’m very conscious that my dick is
pulsing by her face.
Her fingers rake down my legs until they reach the floor and her palms
flatten on either side of her.
If I beg, if I go on my hands and knees…
Her words come back to bait and goad me, and the way her eyes lower
with her lashes fanning over her cheekbones has me tensing every possible
part of me that could go its own way and ignore my efforts to rein myself
in.
My dick half-masts at the feel of her heated breath and when her tongue
licks across her dolly lips I have to take a step back.
 “Get up, Cassie.” My words are a sharp, garbled plea. My restraint is
fraying so thin that it will snap soon, and I won’t be able to hold back.
Her big eyes flick up to mine and she shakes her head, “No.”
I see it behind her shining eyes, the need that’s burning inside me. It’s
blistering inside her too.
As if all my other sins weren’t enough, I covet her. I envy anything and
anyone that touched her before me, that loved her before me. I lust after her
affection and soul.
Every precious molecule of her is like my very own brand of salvation.
She’s everything I can’t control.
“I’m here,” licking her lips, she lifts her face up, towards the ceiling,
like she’s before God’s altar. “Begging to be swallowed whole.”
I am a selfish and sometimes cruel being, but this girl in front of me, on
her knees, has just got the checkmate on that.
There’s a gleam in her brown depths that tells me she knows exactly
what she’s doing. She knows this is torture and still she looks at me with
angel eyes and devious intentions. This girl is as cunning as the devil and
lovelier than any deity. She’s the creature that will bring gods to their knees.
Cassie lifts her body to mine as I bend to lift her. When my arm wraps
around her back she goes lax, arms dropping behind her and I have to fist
her vest in my hand to pull her up to me.
She might be offering herself to me, but she’s making me work for it
too. And it’s like bait to the animal inside me. My blood riots in my veins
with my exuberant need.
Shit, she’s fucking perfect.
Cassie sees the fire inside me and she teases it. She wants to play with
it. And that on its own is enough to make me let go of all the restraint and
control, and to set the beast inside free.
She came calling. She’s asking for it. She can see it, and she wants it.
The moment her knees are off the floor, her legs wrap around my waist
and her face is buried in my neck. Her thighs clench around me and it’s the
best fucking thing I’ve ever felt.
There’s nothing but heat, need, and hunger as she licks behind my ear.
Her fingers tracing the burns between my shoulder blades, although my first
instinct is to shake her off, I can’t.
She sees me. All of me. She wants it all.
 In spite of everything that’s happened, she’s here and the only thing I
want, besides her, is to make this girl the happiest she’s ever been. I want to
grant her every wish. Fulfil her every dream.
Her arms and legs tighten around me as I lean over the bed, laying her
on it. With her heels digging into my arse, my cock aches at the way her
covered pussy rubs my erection.
Chest trembling with her wild breaths, I may as well be lying on a
rumbling volcano with how she’s shaking.
“Cassie,” I whisper into her ear as her lips trace my jaw. “Let go.”
Slipping down my back, her hands are hot and needy. When I push
myself up onto my elbows, looking down on her she quirks her lips slightly.
I can tell she’s nervous and that she’s putting on a brave face, but there’s
this excitable energy cocooning us. It’s like there’s a tightly wound copper
coil that’s passing current between the two of us. Sparking and igniting all
the want and control we’ve held onto from the moment we met.
I see it in her eyes, she’s as desperate as I am. And she’s so fucking
beautiful it’s a sin. No one should be as magnificent as she is. Creamy skin,
deep rusted rose lips and so much fucking soul and spirit in one exquisite
being.
Her gasp as I kneel between her thighs on the edge of the bed is mouth-
watering. And when I begin to strip her vest off, she lifts her arms over her
head. Her back bowing off the duvet, her thighs press to the outside of
mine.
I can’t take my eyes off her. Cassie is the most delicately splendid thing
I’ve ever seen. I have to swallow down the need to feast on her rosy tipped
breasts, even though it physically hurts.
“You’re a vision, Cass. Fucking stunning.”
Her shoulders relax like she was afraid I would think otherwise, and
sitting up, her hands find my chest with a sigh, like she’s finally found
home.
“Leo?”
“Yeah?” Shuddering at the gentle scrape of her nails over the lines of
my tattoos, I close my eyes. Her lips graze one of my nipples and I can
barely hold myself together.
Opening my eyes, I look down at her to find she’s smiling. That same
twisted smile she has when she’s curious.
 “Does this feel nice?” She licks her lips when I nod and grazes my
nipple again, slower this time.
It’s impossible for me to get my words out, because…
Fuck yeah, it feels incredible!
The need to lay her out and get my fill of her builds deep inside me. All
I want is to strip her down, break her open, and own her. But she’s waited
this long and she’s trusting me with her virtue, the least I can do is let her
explore a little before I let myself follow through on all those things.
Keeping my hands at my sides, I luxuriate in her curious, tentative
touch. I know that the minute I allow myself to touch her like I want to, I
won’t be able to stop.
Her fingertips trail down my torso, following the lines and grooves of
my muscles, and the farther down they venture the higher she raises herself.
Tucking her legs beneath her, she shuffles closer with her hands anchored
on my hips.
“I don’t really know what to do now. I can’t think and my hands are
shaking too much.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask her, and when her cheeks bloom a
bright pink, I pull her flush to me. “What do you need?”
“I need you to take what I’m giving you,” she begs tremulously,
“please.”
When I get off the bed her eyes widen in the way that they always do
when a person is trying to hide their disappointment. She actually thinks
that I’m capable of walking away from this now.
“Lie down.”
Immediately she does as she’s told, following my every move with her
eyes as I reach into the bedside table where I’ve dumped the contents of my
pockets.
I take a condom out of my wallet and drop it on the bed, beside her, as I
shut the drawer and crawl over her body.
Spreading her legs, her hands rest on the side of my ribs like she’s
unsure of what she can and can’t do. She’s like Bambi trying to get up for
the first time. Awkward and startled.
Meanwhile, I’m fucking drowning in all my desire for her.
“Look at me, beautiful.”
When she opens her eyes, I realise something, and I feel like a complete
and utter moron for not realising it sooner—she’s the woman that will smile
and nod, even when there are tears in her eyes and she is scared, she won’t
back down.
“Stop thinking, there isn’t anything you can do to me that I won’t like.”
It’s the truth. “When it comes to sex, your body knows how to get what it
wants.”
Nodding, she takes in a long breath and when she stills, I touch my lips
to hers. I don’t wait for her to open them. My tongue pushes into her mouth
and at the same time her legs tighten on either side of me. Hands trailing up
my back to my shoulders, her hips buck up to mine and she rasps out a low
moan when our groins meet.
“Good girl.” Her fingers twine in my hair in response to my praise.
Kissing down her throat to her jaw, I fucking tremble at the feel of her
tightly beaded nipples rubbing up my chest.
In the moonlight her creamy skin has a silver lustre to it that’s ethereal
and I can’t help but pull back to really take her in. She’s slender and there is
a womanly softness to her body, but she’s toned and tight. Strong.
Fisting the top of her PJ bottoms, I pull them down her legs as she
follows me with her gaze. Her body shifting with mine as I move down to
the edge of the bed.
Her thighs are plump and rounded and my mouth waters at the prospect
of biting and sucking on the tender flesh. The blush lace covering her pussy
is so fucking wet, I can’t wait to rid her of it.
I want to see every inch of her body and I want to memorise every dip
and curve. I want it branded into my memories so that even when shit hits
the fan, I always have her in some shape or form.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 24

CASSANDRA

I can’t breathe.
Oh God, I can’t get my lungs to open up and work. Leo’s
looking at me like I’m some sort of once in a lifetime
phenomenon. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are so dark that it makes
the room appear lighter than it is.
My body feels light and heavy all at once, and the longer he looks at me
the more the tightening in my chest intensifies because I really just need
him to touch me now. I want him to kiss me and bite me.
There’s this violent need inside me, and the more he touches me, the
more it sings.
His hands rounding to the back of my knees, he lowers himself between
my thighs and my natural instinct is to close them. But when he presses
them apart and his shoulders jack them wide open, the slight discomfort sets
off this heat that pulls at my stomach and pelvic muscles and I shudder with
desire.
My hips grind as he nips his way up one of my thighs and when he
reaches the top, his tongue laves at me over my underwear.
Oh my God.
Moaning into the air above, my fingers knot in his hair as his nails bite
into my flesh with every stroke of his tongue. My muscles coil so tight that
I have no idea how to relieve the tension pulling at me. It’s like nothing I’ve
ever felt.
 “Quiet,” he murmurs, and as if to make sure I adhere to his command
one of his hands covers my mouth.
With no outlet for all the pressure building inside me as he continues
licking and blowing at my sensitive flesh through my underwear, I’m ready
to burst.
Is this how it’s meant to be all the time? Am I not meant to last longer?
“Stop. Thinking. Cassandra.” Leo grits, slipping his fingers under my
knickers.
His thumb swipes up my middle and presses to my clit, and I can’t stop
my body from trembling. The harder he presses, the faster his tongue laves
over my underwear.
My legs are spasming and my knees are pressing so tight to his
shoulders that it’s becoming painful. The bite incites the pleasure rumbling
to life at my core.
With his palm muffling my cries, my heart is beating so fast that I can’t
hear myself gag for breath.
Every part of me is screaming, yet I can’t get a single fucking word out
and not because he’s smothering my voice.
Holy fuck. Holy…holy…oh my Jesus…
I’m getting lost inside my own body and mind. My insides feel like
prisoners trying to break out of their confines, making my body rattle.
“Leo!” My rasp somehow pushes through his fingers.
Lifting myself up onto my elbows, my eyes meet his across the dips and
swells of my body. His lips on me look…I don’t even know.
I’ve never seen anything like it. The way it makes me feel is
inexplicable.
His eyes trail down from mine slowly and his hand follows, dropping
from my mouth and trailing down to my chest. Pinching one of my nipples,
he presses the length of his tongue to me, continuing to palm my breast.
Leo squeezes mercilessly with his fingertips digging into my flesh as he
sucks and nips at me like a starved animal feasting on its prey.
The sting of his nails biting my skin sends frissons of pleasure down to
where his mouth is latched onto me. His tongue slides up and flicks my clit
over the wet lace at the same time as his thumb slips between my folds and
inside me.
“Oh fuck!” My hoarse cry fades in my ears as his hand tightens around
my boob punishingly and he growls, “Quiet!”
 I’m trying so hard to do as he’s told me, but it’s impossible. I have to
expel some of the heated tension or I’m afraid I might disintegrate in his
hands.
Pressing his thumb deeper, he curls it at the same time as his finger
rounds my clit and his teeth sink into the soft flesh between my hips.
I’m incapable of making heads or tails of what’s happening. My body is
shaking, my muscles are clenching, and my nerves are detonating. I feel
like I’m free-falling from the greatest height. Like I’m shattering into a
million pieces, and somehow, I have never felt safer or whole.
When he removes his hand from me, I want to claw it back. My breathy
complaint crackles in the air above me as my limbs fumble to do as my
brain commands. Finally opening my eyes, I find Leo braced over me.
Elbows sinking deeper into the mattress on either side of my head, his
eyes are so soft as he brushes my hair from my face. I’m finding it
impossible not to melt right into him. The way his gaze searches my face, it
reminds me of the night we met.
From the moment my gaze landed on Leo, I was doomed to fall for him.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice trembling like my limbs.
I don’t know what I should tell him. I don’t know the expected thing to
say right now. My brain is struggling to clear the haze from my orgasm.
“You told me to stop thinking.”
“So I did,” murmuring, he dips his head and his lips lightly ghost mine
as I run my fingers through his messy hair.
There’s nothing like his kiss, and as his tongue searches every contour
of my mouth, the brand new taste makes me hesitate at first. But then it
occurs to me that this new sweet, salty and warm flavour is us mixed
together and I am overcome by my greed for it.
I want to lick him clean of it so that I can have it all, and at the same
time I want him to keep it on him, as a reminder of this moment.
Letting my fingers trail down the parallel scars between his shoulder
blades, I continue to luxuriate in the feeling of his tongue duelling with
mine as one of his hands wraps around my thigh. The feel of him so hard
between my legs makes me shudder.
My heart thrums impossibly fast, so fast that my vision is clouding at
the edges as Leo grazes and nips at my lips before kissing down to my
neck. I don’t know what it is about his lips on that part of me. I have no idea
what it is about his warm breath tickling my skin right there, behind my ear,
but it makes me writhe. It makes me want to break myself wide open for
him.
“You’re so beautiful, Cass.” Leo rasps into my ear, his chest pressing
into mine as he reaches between us with one hand, the other still keeping
my thigh hitched on his hip.
“Too fucking beautiful.” He says, positioning himself at my entrance.
My chest heats with panic and excitement all at once, because I know
it’s going to hurt and not only does the idea of the pain fill me with
trepidation, but it thrills me. I want this so badly, and yet my want of this
experience pales in comparison to my want and need of Leo.
Pressing bluntly to me, he moves his hand from between us and the
pressure increases until I feel him slip the smallest bit inside me.
His groan vibrates all the way down my body, making the sting of his
intrusion welcome, so welcome that when he hoists my other thigh over his
hip, I moan a little at the way he slips a little deeper.
The building discomfort makes my eyes sting. This pain is inexplicably
unique, it has me begging for more with every one of my cells.
My hands slip down Leo’s back to his arse, and squeeze as I try to pull
him deeper into me.
“Fuck, Cassie, stop!” Growling, he takes my wrists, pinning them above
my head. His forearms brace on either side of my arms and as my legs wrap
around him he thrusts once.
It’s hard, fast, and brutal. It doesn’t just push the air out of my lungs, it
makes me cry out loud, hoarsely.
Tears slip down my temples as he pulls out and pushes back in with the
same unrelenting force. Again, and again until the searing pain morphs into
a needy buzz that has me tightening my legs around him.
“Good girl,” he moans into my neck, pulling out brusquely and then
slamming back inside me with a blunt force that makes me groan.
Fuck!
My extremities lose their strength, and in my head, I am incoherently
trying to make sense of what is happening. I didn’t expect to enjoy the pain,
but I do. I like the way it bites at my insides, threatening to tear me apart
but never quite doing it.
It’s a promise that never delivers in a most torturously addictive way.
Kissing and sucking up my throat to my lips, he licks into my mouth
hungrily. The twist of his tongue mimicking that of his hips. I feel the
rumble of my orgasm vibrate deep inside me, and the louder it becomes the
deeper and faster I desperately want him to take me.
Abandoning my mouth, he trails the tip of his nose over my cheek so
slowly that it feels like pure torture. I don’t know why, but his gentleness
makes me beg for more of the ache he’s so good at making me feel.
“Leo…”
In reply he pushes deep and holds still. His skin glistening with sweat,
and his chest vibrating as he pushes onto his elbows, looking down on me.
He doesn’t say anything, but his face lowers to mine at the same time as his
large hands twine in my hair and he licks the tears and their tracks from my
skin.
The longer he stays still, the more I ache and it’s not the needy pain that
drives me insane and that I want more of. This discomfort I want to end.
“Please,” I plead raggedly. “Please, don’t stop.”
“You wanted to burn, Buttercup.” Groaning, he pulls out again. “I told
you I’d scorch you,” his gravelly voice is punctuated with his breaths.
“Please, Leo.” My arms sweep down the bed, and when I grasp his arse,
I dig my nails into his hard flesh. “I need you…inside me.”
A tinge of embarrassment makes me cringe when my own words echo
in my ears.
“This is how you make me feel.” Fingers winding in my hair, he pulls
the lengths taut. “You make me ache and burn, like I’m on the brink of
madness.”
Doesn’t he know I feel like that all the time?
Leo has made me feel like that every second since we first met, I have
done nothing but yearn for him since that night. Since he first touched me, I
have been burning for more of him. I have been dreaming of and imagining
nothing but this. Agonising over all the things he could do to me. And even
when I tried doing them to myself, they felt weak because I needed it to be
him.
Tonguing the other side of my face, he licks up the rest of my tears, and
when he’s satisfied that they’re all gone, he looks at me again. His nostrils
flaring with his heaving breaths when I writhe beneath him.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You.”
It’s a lacking answer because what I really want to tell him is to devour
me. To make me hurt and burn. I want to tell him to mark me in every
possible way. But I’ve never spoken those words before, and I’m scared
that he’ll dismiss me. I’m embarrassed for myself, that I am so desperate for
him.
“Not good enough,” he breathes out harshly. “Tell me exactly what you
need.”
My throat swells and my muscles clench at the demanding tone of his
words.
Brushing the tip of his nose on mine, he rasps, “My dick loves your
tight, little cunt. It loves the way it clenches. It loves the way it bleeds for
me. So tell me. What. You. Want.”
His words waft the flames inside me, incinerating my embarrassment.
“I want you to fuck me.” My voice is softer and breathier than the sexy
I want it to be, but his shift between my thighs makes all that irrelevant.
“Good little girl,” growling, he thrusts inside me, bottoming out with a
burst of aching heat. “Do you like the way my cock feels inside you?”
“Yes.” I cry as he grinds his pelvis, rubbing my clit with the hilt of his
shaft.
“Yes, what?” He grits as he partially pulls out and then pushes back in,
in teasing strokes that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head. “Look
at me and tell me.”
Inching out again, my nails dig so hard into his muscles that I’m sure I
break the skin.
“Tell me, Cassandra!”
When I don’t answer he plunges deep, his hands slipping down my face
to my throat. He grinds and grinds until I’m trembling and all I want is for
him to put me out of my misery.
“Yes,” I breathe, “I love the way your cock feels inside my pussy.”
“Look,” Cradling the back of my head, he tilts me up so I can see where
our bodies are joined. “There’s really nothing to be shy about after this, is
there?”
He’s studying me when I look up at him, and although I want to shudder
at the thought of how we look right now, there’s something that makes me
crave more of this intimacy between us.
Running my hands up over his ribs until they’re pressed to his erratic
chest, I answer, “No.”
“Good, so when you want me to fuck you, you’ll ask me, and you won’t
be unsure or embarrassed about it.”
 He pulls back on his knees, his length easing out of me a little and the
messy, blood tinged sight should make me feel dirty. It doesn’t. If anything,
it makes me lose some of the bashfulness. Leo’s right, things can’t get any
more intimate than this. Than me giving him my virginity and him taking it.
“I want you to fuck me…” I watch his cock pulse at my words and
because seeing his reaction like that makes me feel somewhat powerful, I
add, “deep.”
“Your majesty,” smiling, he lowers me gently, “your wish is my
command,” he says pushing inside me slowly, firmly.
He takes one of my hands from his chest and laces it with his, beside
my head, as he thrusts and rolls into me. Filling me to the point my skin
feels so tight around my body, that for the first time I don’t feel like my
bones are too small or like my skin is too big.
I feel like I am perfectly tailored to myself. And it’s the best feeling I
could ever have. Anything more is a bonus, and there is so much more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groans with every thrust. “So perfect.
I love your tight pussy.”
I love you.
I tell him wordlessly as he works the pleasure from every single one of
my sparking nerves.
I love you so fucking much.
I repeat as he drives relentlessly into me, until I am so raptured that I
can’t even make sense of the words. Until they blur and become nothing but
fire and light.
I can’t move with the pleasure still working its way through my body
and with Leo’s dead weight on me. The only thing I can do is hold onto him
as tight as he is holding on to me. And I can’t help but silently beg him…
Please love me too.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 25

LEO

I can’t bring myself to move or say anything. The room is bathed

in bright light and all the noise coming from the hallway tells
me it’s late morning. I’m normally up before the sun has fully
risen, but today I have no want to part with these sheets.
Cassie’s fingertips run up and down, between my shoulder blades as she
hums. Her voice is as soft and raspy as her fingertips are inquisitive and
gentle.
Her lips trace one line, pausing briefly before she presses a kiss to the
other, causing my breathing to stutter.
“It looks like someone’s cut off your wings.” She murmurs softly,
pressing another kiss to my nape.
“Nope.”
“Yep.” She presses another light kiss. “It looks like they were shorn off
right here.” Her fingertips trace the lines again.
“I’m not an angel, so…”
Shrugging behind me, she breathes into my ear, “You sort of are my
guardian angel…you saved my life.”
Something about the way she says that irks me. I don’t know if it’s the
light and blasé tone or the fact that she’s idealising my actions. Making me
out to be some sort of hero, when I am the farthest thing from it.
Her eyes furrow at my scowl when I turn to face her. “Good morning to
you too, Neat Freak.”
 Wriggling closer, Cassie lifts her head and as if this is some rehearsed
moment, I slip my arm underneath without thought. She rests her head on
my bicep with a contented sigh and I curl her into my chest.
She feels so good right here that I’m already begrudging the moment we
have to leave this room.
“What happened to your back?” Hooking her leg over my thigh, she
asks, curling her arms over my forearm.
I don’t know if I’m ready for this conversation yet, so I evade her
question altogether. “I didn’t save your life. I lost my shit.”
Shrugging again, she says, “Same thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
“The outcome is the same,” she tightens her arms around my forearm
and continues, “me, here with you.”
And fuck, she knows how to disarm the hell out of me. She knocks
down my walls like she is barely blowing on a toppling domino.
“My father and I…we…I—” My voice dries as I tense. This sharing
thing really isn’t as easy as people make it seem.
“You hate him.”
I’m not sure whether she is stating or asking, but the way she says it is
so angry that it sounds more like she’s saying we hate him. And although
she doesn’t know it yet, she’ll hate him and me.
With her lip curled between her teeth and her eyes narrowed in a scowl,
it’s as if she already knows the piece of shit my father is.
Nodding in answer to her question, I hitch her leg a little higher and her
foot guides mine between hers.
“Why?”
She has no fucking idea the Pandora’s box she’s prying open. I hate him
because he hurt my mother. I hate him because he hurt my brother, I even
hate him some more because he hurt me. But the reason he’s a dead man, is
that he tried to hurt her.
“Why does anyone hate?”
Tilting her head back, her bright brown eyes look into my green ones
like she can see into every corner of my soul. It’s a really terrifying and
torturous place to find yourself in. Vulnerable.
“He hurt you,” she hisses, turning so she can stroke my jaw.
Cassie’s fingers trail down my neck, over the small scar he left during
one of his tantrums. Angling her arm around me, she traces down, between
my shoulder blades.
I can’t stop myself from saying what I do next.
“When Kit and I were young, my mum used to have this oil radiator she
used to keep in the hallway, right outside my dad’s office. My mum is
always cold, she has the heating on in the summer sometimes.”
Her hand flattens on my back and she looks up at me, her little nose
scrunching and twitching the way it does when she’s upset but is trying to
hide it.
“My father never touched us as children, he would raise his voice and
honestly, that was enough to make us rethink whatever we were doing. But
I was always pushier than Kit, I liked to test boundaries and see how far I
could go…I just didn’t know how far Lucian Fairfax could go too. He never
once laid a finger on me.”
He didn’t need to. He had other ways of inflicting his damage.
“But…”
“It was the end of summer, we had just come back from Sicily and my
mum was behind on her work. She was helping restore a painting at the
gallery, the team were running behind, and she had to leave us with our
father. I think he was stressed too, and I was a little shit because I was a
bored eight-year-old boy with nothing to do except play quietly.”
“Your mum restores paintings?” Wide-eyed, her excitement at the
minimal information I’ve given her is palpable. Guilt squeezes my chest
with a vice like bruising force that makes it hard to breathe. I should tell her
who my mother is, but I know that it’ll be another thing that might push her
away from me. She’ll think of everyone else and what they think before
herself and what she wants. “Why didn’t you tell me that when we talked
about my dissertation? That’s so amazing. Who does she work with?”
“She’s part of the team at the National Gallery.”
Her teeth sink into her plump lip and her eyes glisten with so much awe
that it might burst from her in bright rays. “That’s my dream job.”
“It is.”
“Yeah,” she admits. “My professor heads up their team, and she has the
most amazing stories…”
“She does.”
“I want to be her when I grow up.” Her smile beams up at me and for a
moment I consider telling her about all the amazing ways her Professor is
the best mother I could’ve ever dreamed of.
 “You don’t want to be anyone but you, Cass. Ever.” Kissing the top of
her head I tighten my hold of her.
“It’s such a small world…” Smaller than you think, my little flower.
Settling into silence, she presses a kiss to my pounding chest. Her chest
inflates as she breathes me in, her nose flush to my skin, as a deep, satisfied
moan rumbles up her body.
Looking up at me she smiles softly, “So what did you do? You were a
bored eight-year-old boy…”
“I was bored, and Dad was locked in his office. Kit had gone to one of
his friend’s houses, so I thought I’d go to the park. There was this small one
right outside our house, and it had a playground...”
“You went on your own?” Eyes widening, her voice takes on this
chastising tone.
“I did, and one of our neighbours saw me and told my mum. She
obviously freaked out, called my father and he dragged me home. He was
so angry, but I thought that it was just worry, except when we got home, he
didn’t yell. He barely spoke to me at all. I knew my father was strict, but I
never thought he was mean until that day. He stripped my dirty T-shirt off
and made me sit right outside his office door, where he could see me, and I
could think about my actions.”
“But how…I don’t…”
“My mum had left the radiator on, and when I told him he said, ‘True
penance is something that requires pain.’” I have to swallow down the bile
that boils up my throat as the sharp sting of my burning skin prickles along
my scars. The smell, the silent tears…none of it scarred me more than the
fact that my father was doing it to me.
“What about your mother? What did she say? What did she do?” Cassie
asks with so much venom that it makes me cringe.
“By the time she got home he’d sent me to bed. I heard her come in and
I heard them fight. It wasn’t until she was dressing me the next day when
she was picking out my clothes so I could go to work with her that she saw
the result of my misadventure. She couldn’t take me to the doctor for
obvious reasons, but she had a friend who had contacts…”
That was the first time I met Francis Sinclair. I had no idea who he was
or that I would end up here, in his house, with his daughter.
“After that she never left either me or Kit alone with him. When she
couldn’t get someone to watch us, she would drop us at our friends’ or if
that wasn’t possible, she’d take me with her. In fact, the next few weeks
after it happened, she took me to the gallery with her. I remember watching
her and the rest of the team working on this old painting and although the
process fascinated me, I couldn’t help but hate it. The painting. Her job. Her
love for it.”
“I hope it was an awful pain—” She stops abruptly mid-sentence and
her eyes glisten as she stares at me with quivering lips and angry eyes. “The
Delaroche.”
“I still hate it.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 26

CASSANDRA

L eo falls quiet and I realise something that may haunt me forever—

this man isn’t the arsehole he paints himself as. He’s no villain.
No, he’s hurting so deeply that he might never stop. If by some
miracle he does, the wounds he carries might never heal.
And knowing his extremes and the lengths he will go to…knowing his
temperament and his bite, I can’t help but love him deeper than any of the
pain eating at him, and any of the cruelty he’s endured.
“Do you like horses?” Trying not to wince, I push him on his back and
straddle his thighs. “I have the most beautiful American Cream Draft. She’s
gorgeous, we can take her out on the moor. I’m sure Christopher won’t
mind letting you take Bam Bam for a wander. He’s a beast, real fast and has
a good strong gait…”
“They’re all right, I suppose,” Leo replies with a soft lopsided grin.
His hands rest lightly on my hips and as his eyes wander down my
body, I freeze. We didn’t get washed last night, Leo used one of the towels
to clean us up, but it was dark and I can still smell the metallic edge to our
mixed-up scent. It makes me feel so self-conscious that I fluster above him.
“What’s wrong?” He drags me up his body until his very erect, hard
dick is pressing to my pussy.
“Umm…” My eyes dart down his torso as my hands bear down on his
chest.
“Does it bother you?” Leo’s gaze narrows on my thighs. “It’s dried
blood. It didn’t bother me yesterday and it doesn’t bother me now. It’s no
different to a nose bleed or a bust lip and you didn’t flinch at either of
those.”
“Newsflash,” I point down as I say, “it’s not a nose or a lip.”
“Well…” he laughs as he sits up and the friction of his dick on my clit
has me collapsing into him. “How sore are you?”
I really want to say that I’m not, but I am deliciously achy.
“Like I’ve been for a long, bumpy ride on Betsy.”
“Betsy?”
“My mare.”
Nodding with a sigh, he pauses for a moment before his arms wrap
around me tightly and he presses a soft kiss to my lips.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.” He whispers into my mouth.
“Pfft, it was always going to hurt, and I liked it, so…”
“I’m glad it was satisfactory.”
“Everyone is always so gentle with me. They handle me with kid gloves
all the time and I don’t understand why.”
One of his arms loosens and then he’s cupping my cheek. Leo can be so
tender with me, but even in the soft touches there’s always some intense
pull.
“Why don’t you treat me like they do?”
“Because I don’t believe you’re half as fragile as you seem.”
“I’m not, and I wish people saw that.”
Smiling at me with pride, his thumb caresses my cheek.
“Cass, do you remember what your dad said about the best way to get to
a person?”
I nod and he presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.
“I don’t have many people I care about apart from Kit, my mother and
my nan.”
My chest tightens and my heart winces that he hasn’t mentioned me,
because I care about him. I care about him so much.
“They were the only people my father knew of to get to me. Your father
had someone watching my mother and my grandmother, but Kit didn’t want
someone tracing his footsteps. He’s really private about his life, as
progressive as the world we live in is, the circles we’re a part of can be
homophobic and our father was harsh enough…”
“Kit’s gay?”
 “Well, your brother would never let him be so close to Arabella if he
wasn’t. Christopher doesn’t do competition.”
“Christopher needs to get over himself sometimes.”
“Sometimes, but no guy wants another man sniffing around their girl.”
“It’s hardly sniffing if they’re friends. Girls and guys can be friends.
You know?” Looking up at him, my tummy rolls with the quirked brow
look he’s giving me. “Anyway, I want to know more about Kit.”
I like getting to know more about him and his family, even if some of it
is really hard to stomach.
I still can’t get my head around his father’s actions. All my life my
parents have done everything to protect me. It seems absurd that his father
could hurt his own children in the ways he has. And if he can hurt his
children without any second thought, I don’t want to fathom what else he is
capable of doing.
It doesn’t bear thinking about.
“Will you tell me more?” Stroking my fingers lightly down his silky
scars, I know that I’m always going to see them as missing wings, because
the more I know of Leo, the more I see him as my very own angel. My very
own brand of salvation. Maybe he’s not your usual saviour, but with him,
I’d feel safe walking through Hell.
“I miss him. We all do, Mum, Julian, Nan, Arabella. I’ve never seen my
grandad so devastated.”
“Who’s Julian?” I’m not an idiot, I think I can surmise who it is. But I
like hearing him talk so freely and wistfully. It’s a completely different side
to him that I’m finding impossible not to fall in love with too.
“His boyfriend, I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
“They’re together, but they’re not official because…” He shrugs and I
understand what he’s saying. Kit and Julian are a secret couple.
“Tell me more.”
“There’s not much to tell, he’s just a really nice person. You know?” he
sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, and that childish action makes my heart
melt for him. “He’s too nice, always looking out for others and going out on
a limb. He’s always been like that, whereas I’m competitive and not really
sociable, he’s the complete opposite to me. He’s all Mum and I’m all…”
“You’re not your father.” Whispering into his ear, I stroke his arm
before kissing his cheek and then the little scar he has over his brow.
“What’s this scar?”
He smiles, and sheepish looks so fucking gorgeous on him that my chest
swells.
“Oh, you have to tell me now.”
“That was an unfortunate encounter with a swing and some dubious
climbing skills.” He’s laughing, and I can’t help but chuckle along with
him.
I’m trying to think if I’ve ever heard him laugh, and sadly, I don’t think
I have, not like this anyway. It’s such a beautiful masculine sound. It makes
his already handsome face even more dazzling and Jesus, I want to bury
him deep inside me again. Sore or not.
“What happened?”
“We were at our nan’s house and she has this incredible garden with this
really old weeping willow. It’s been there so long that it’s like an heirloom.
One summer my grandad decided to put up a swing for Kit and I. I think I
was about six and Kit was twelve, he was really tall, and climbing was so
natural to him. I swear he was a cat in another life…” his breaths falter and
when I search his face, his eyes are glassed over and so green that they look
like the waters of a deep, mossy lake in the summer sun. “He used the
swing to get up into the tree and when I tried to follow, I fell face first to the
ground earning myself a knock to the head from the old wooden plank
seat.”
My chest warms at the way he fondly retells the story. It makes me
wonder how he’ll retell our stories, and that thought makes me giddy. I
want to have all the stories with him—good, bad, ugly and perfect. I want
them all with this incredible, mercurial man.
Rising up onto my knees, I shuffle forward until the tip of his penis is
nudging at my entrance. I lower myself down a fraction and his hands are
holding me still, stopping me from taking him completely.
“Cass…” His muffled voice is so gritty that it makes my insides twist
with raw need. A need so consuming that if I don’t have him, I might go
insane.
Turning my face to find his lips, I beg softly, “Please.”
For a moment I think Leo might deny me, but then he lowers me gently
the rest of the way down. Filling me so torturously slowly that my breath
pushes out of me in a long languid moan, echoing into his gaping mouth.
 With him fully seated inside me, the fresh ache seeps from my core to
my extremities, until I’m deliriously drunk on the blissful heat building
within me.
Leo’s so fucking beautiful with his wildfire eyes wide and jaw
clenching with abating control as he holds my body still over his. And
holding his lips pressed to mine, I relish in our hastening breaths with the
frantic need between us blazing.
Licking into my mouth, he pushes me down, so flush to him that pain
bursts inside my belly. It awakens every single one of my nerves, making
my pores sting at the same time as goose bumps cover my body.
Oh God, I don’t know how much more I can take, but I want it all. I
want everything he can give me, and somehow, I can’t see it ever being
enough. This hunger inside me is as hot and volatile as him. It knows no
boundaries or limits.
Our heaving chests rub, my turgid nipples on his hard chest. I love the
way the friction burns my skin. I love the way it pushes down my body and
throbs deep in my core.
“My beautiful little flower…” Kissing each of my lips in turn he
murmurs the words like a prayer. A poem that echoes in my ears and wraps
itself around every last part of me.
I am his. His flower, his buttercup, his girl…whatever he wants me to
be. I will be anything he needs me to be, so long as I am Leo’s, I just don’t
care.
Swallowing every one of my moans, he pushes up into me and all I can
do is wrap my arms around his shoulders as he pulls out slightly and flexes
up again.
His thick, hard dick stretches me over and again, and I am incapable of
doing anything other than breathing and holding on.
“Leo.” I repeat as he fucks me slow and deep, my hands grappling at his
back with my nails clawing for purchase on his slippery skin.
“Fuck, Cassie, your cunt is so tight it feels like I’m ripping you apart.”
I like that. I like the thought of being so full of him that I’m tearing at
the seams. And Jesus, I want more. More pain, more pleasure. More of Leo.
Deeper, harder, faster, more.
“Harder.” Begging as he fills me again, my tongue laves at that soft spot
on his neck that always tastes of him and his scent. The one that I marked
on the night he saved me.
 The rumble of his groan as he wraps his arms under mine and pulls me
down brusquely, has my toes curling. I’m so full of him that I dread the
moment he empties me and takes this delicious ache with him.
I don’t want to be empty.
Stuttering in my chest my heart trips over itself, and when his eyes
flutter open, meeting mine, I want him to ruin me. I want to feel him inside
me, even when he’s gone.
“Fuck me. Make me hurt.” My hands push down on his shoulders and
when I rise slightly, he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. Biting hard,
he pulls me back down and I can’t begin to contain the tremors that roll
through my body as my nipple scrapes out of his bite and his cock bottoms
out.
“Oh God…Leo…”
Shattering again and again like hot, exploding glass in his strong hands,
I can’t think or hold myself anymore. The aftershocks make it impossible
for me to do anything other than fall limp into him.
I never want this to end. I want to keep him in every possible way.
Every one of his blunt drives quicken and when he lifts me off him, I
feel his release coat my skin.
It’s crude and messy, but it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever felt. And looking
down between us, my breath stills. It’s robbed from my lungs as I study the
way Leo is watching his cum drip down my stomach.
Thumbing the drops collecting between us, he swipes them through my
folds to my clit and brings it up to his lips.
I watch him lick our cum off his thumb and when he cups my face and
brings his lips to mine, I make quick work of licking into his mouth.
Moaning as he tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me flush to him.
“Tastes good, huh?” he asks hoarsely, and before I get a chance to
respond, he kisses me like he might never get another chance.
Something about it makes me plead and pray for so many more of his
kisses. For more of him and us.
Once we’ve both caught our breaths, Leo shuffles to the edge of the bed
and stands with me still in his arms. Taking us into the bathroom, without
putting me down he turns the shower on and walks us into the warm stream.
“I like horses,” he says. “But today, I’d like to take you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise.” Kissing my neck, he nips lightly at the tender skin.
 “Aren’t you just full of the buggers?”
“Only for you.” He presses another hot kiss to my cheek as he puts me
down.
Tracing down my body with his hands, Leo kneads my small breasts a
little before working his way down my belly, and I don’t know if he’s
cleaning his cum off me or rubbing it into my skin before the warm water
has a chance to wash it all away. But I like the way the pressure of his touch
re-ignites the gorgeous pain of being filled my him, it feels so good that I
hate it when his hands work down my body.
Gently, he works my inner thighs in slow circles until they are
completely clean.
“We need to be more careful,” he says pensively. “As great as it feels to
not have anything between us, it’s a stupid thing to do.”
Hurt squeezes my chest even though I know he’s right, and that he isn’t
being purposefully hurtful.
“I know.”
“Good, next time we’d both do well to keep that in mind.”
Next time. “Next time?”
Leo chuckles lightly, leaning over me with his forearms anchored on
either side of my head.
Pressing his lips to my forehead, he kisses all the way to my ear and
then he murmurs, “Next time, Little Girl. There will always be a next time.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 27

LEO

L ooking out of her window at the pale brick home that belongs to
my grandmother, Cassie nibbles on her smile. Although the large
fairy tale cottage looks a little bare at the minute, it still makes me
smile with all the memories blooming in my head.
The ivy and wisteria are but naked branches criss-crossing the front of
the property and the muddy flowerbeds have my nan’s favourite daffodil
bulbs sitting right at the surface with short little green stubs poking out.
“This is pretty,” she says with a dreamy glint in her eyes.
“Isn’t it?” Savouring the blissful turn up of her lips, I give her thigh a
light squeeze. I have no clue what she’s doing to me, but I don’t want it to
stop. I like this feeling, it’s like nothing else exists outside of her. There’s
only ever her and nothing else matters.
With her hair parted in two long braids on either side of her head, the
blonde looks a little pink with the red from the leather reflecting on it.
“I love it here. It’s where all my best memories were made.” It’s why I
brought Cassie here, no matter what happens, she’ll be a part of those
memories. I’m ready to tie her up and keep her my prisoner at the thought
of her being nothing but a memory.
“Come on, then.” Slapping her thigh playfully, I take a breath to steady
my fist like heart. Although her giggles ease the discomfort in my chest, the
thought doesn’t fade. “Pre-warning—my nan can get a little excitable,
so…”
 The cottage door opens, and Matilda Winthrop stands in its place with
her hands on her hips and a wide grin on her face.
“I’m going to apologise in advance for the headache she’ll probably
give you with all her jabbering and just so you know, we can leave
whenever you want.” Taking my cap off, I run my fingers through my hair
before slapping it back on.
“I’m sure she can’t be any worse than my grandmother when she gets
going.”
“I don’t know, she’s very hands on.”
“Leo?”
“Cass…”
“I like hands on.” Smiling she flicks the tongue of my cap before I get
out of the car. After letting Toby out, I round to her side, opening her door
as I greet my grandmother, “Hello, old bag!”
“Hello, little shit.” She sings back with a raucous laugh and then turns
to coo over Toby, “How’s my big boy? Are we leaving Nanny’s flowerbeds
alone today? Yes. Yes we are, my little bear.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, anyone would think the dog is an actual child.”
There’s nothing little about that dog, he’s half her height on all fours,
and she’s not exactly the short and stout type. Nan has always been tall and
willowy, your typical ballerina stereotype.
“That’s how you greet your grandmother?” Cassie takes my hand as I
reach to help her out of the car.
“Yeah, she’s not the fancy type.” Wrapping my arm around her, I lock
the car and guide her towards the house.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming. I thought you’d be in the city
being Mr. Big Boots.” Kissing my jaw, she palms my face before stepping
back and giving Cassie the once over. “Hello, dear.”
“Hello.” The smile on Cassie’s face does nothing to disguise the
nervous quiver of her voice, and that’s enough to make my heart melt and
my arm pull her tighter to me.
“Nan, this is Cassie. Cassie, my nan, Matilda.”
“Everyone calls me Tillie, or Nan.” Reaching out, Nan thumbs the end
of one of Cassie’s braids. She’s half in love with her already, and I can’t
blame her because it’s really impossible not to get caught up in her.
Giving me the look that tells me she’s proud of me, her hand rubs the
curve of Cassie’s shoulder, and it’s all the assurance I need to let me know
she approves. “Come on in, I have some of those apple crumble tarts you
like in the oven.”
Starting for the kitchen she looks back at us to make sure we’re
following. My mouth salivates at the tart smell of apples mingling in the air
with the sweetness of vanilla and warmth of cinnamon.
“Don’t worry about your shoes, we’re going out the back.”
“Okay.” Leaning into me, her head rests on my shoulder. “She’s nice.”
“Don’t be nervous.” I press a kiss to the top of her head as I lead her
into the huge kitchen. The duck egg blue and ivory colours with the warm
wood looks as homey and welcoming as always.
The old slate grey, tall dresser is lined with an array of trinkets and a
photo of Kit and I. My heart falls to the pit of my stomach as I take it in, our
young smiles and laughter filled eyes.
“I woke up this morning with your brother on my mind. I tried calling
him, but he’s probably busy, so I got to baking. I was going to take the tarts
to the shelter in town later, but you’re here!” She sounds so gleeful that she
might burst, and guilt threatens to floor me. “How is he and your mother?
I’ve called her a hundred times the last couple of days and she hasn’t called
back once. I’ve had this horrible feeling in my chest, and I’ve been so
worried, but you’re here…”
The relief in her voice makes me cringe. It doesn’t escape me that she
assumes everything is okay because of my presence. And when Cassie
looks at me, she furrows her brow in question.
“Would you like a drink?” Nan asks her. “Tea? Coffee? Water? Is it too
early for wine? It’s got to be time for wine somewhere…”
“I’ll make tea. Do you want tea?”
“Please,” Cassie nods and when I move for the kettle my nan stops right
in front of me, twisting my cap backwards. “I haven’t seen this handsome
face in so long, I need to get my fix.”
Cassie laughs at my grandmother’s wink in her direction.
“So, your mother and my other darling boy, how are they?” Nan
continues plodding around the kitchen pulling a teapot and a couple of her
special occasion mugs from the dresser.
“Fine.”
“Fine? Why is everything always fine? I need more information. I want
to know if your mother is working too hard, is Wayne making sure she does
something other than work?”
 Eyes flashing to mine, Cassie looks at me with questions shining in her
light whiskey eyes. “Mum is Mum and Wayne…well, he’s Wayne. He’s
always been good to her.”
“Wayne?”
Nodding at Cassie, I put the teapot on the counter. She’s about to say
something when Nan continues, “Kit and Jules? They seemed happy when
they came to see me.”
“Kit came to see you?”
“Yes, he said you were too busy with life. I hope you’re not
overworking yourself for that fucker. I’m sure Kinsley is watching over you
boys; your grandfather is a good man. It’s a pity his son isn’t made from the
same cloth.”
“Nan…”
“I’m sorry.” Brushing her hair from her face she gives me a sheepish
shrug. “I worry about the three of you.” Her voice wobbles and Toby is
quick to sniff at her ankles and offer her comfort, much like a cat would do.
Silly beast.
“Here, let me finish.” Cassie takes the tea bags from my hand and puts
them in the pot in front of me before she cups my face, her nails grazing the
stubble I didn’t shave this morning.
Kissing my cheek softly, she asks, “Are you okay?”
My hand slips into the back pocket of her jeans, and I can’t help but pull
her closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth when her side presses
to my front.
“I’m going to show Cassie your garden.” I tell my grandmother and she
gives me one of her smirks.
“By garden, I assume you mean the blasted swing?” She takes the tray
of bubbling apple tarts out of the oven. “You boys and that swing! Honestly,
the fights the two of them used to get into over it.”
“Only because Kit was shit at taking turns!” The words rush out of my
mouth before I can think them over and immediately my lungs dry up at the
possibility that Kit might not come here again and all I’ll ever have are
memories.
The threat bubbles in my chest and I find myself unable to stand here
pretending that everything is okay, when it really isn’t.
Anger and devastation claw at my chest as I start for the glass paned
French doors leading to the garden, and for once when Cassie is around,
Toby follows me.
Reaching for the pack of cigarettes in my back pocket, I light one,
taking a few deep drags before my head goes a little fuzzy from my effort. I
stand outside the back door waiting for Cassie and watching Toby go wild
as he chases the sitting ducks along the riverbank that runs the length of my
nan’s property.
When she steps outside, Cassie hands me the sweet and milky smelling
tea before she settles beside me.
“Why doesn’t your grandmother know?” Pulling on the high neck of her
fluffy pink, cropped jumper, she looks up at me.
I can’t answer, her disapproving tone grates me a little because it’s
really shit of us not to tell her Kit could be dying. It’s crappy of us to deny
her the chance to say goodbye to her grandson.
Tucking her hand into the top of my jeans, she kisses my bicep, and
fuck it if I can remain irritated. It’s odd how easily she can smooth over my
unrest with her touch, nobody has ever had that hold on me. Not my
mother, nor Kit, not even my nan or grandfather, and they are pretty capable
of handling my temper.
My grandfather is probably the only person I allow to sway my
resolves. He is the father my own refused to be. He’s the only person I trust
outside of Francis and the Torch team. But Cassie trumps them all. This
woman is every bit as dangerous as she promised to be when all I did was
watch her from afar.
I take a last puff of my cigarette, and smile at the way she moans on a
deep inhale. Her hand squeezes around my belt as she nuzzles into the top
of my chest before looking up at me.
“She likes you.”
“We’ve been here all of two minutes, she hasn’t had time to dislike me
yet.”
Her self-deprecation stings. I don’t know why, but it fucks me off that
she so easily writes herself off.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Wayne and your mother?”
“Why does it matter?” Cassie turns to the river and I have to make a
point of standing in front of her in order to get her eyes again. “Would it
change this?”
My heart hammers at her silence because if my mother’s relationship
with Wayne changes things, then I have no idea how she’s going to react
when I tell her who my mother is.
“No, but there’s already so much I don’t know.”
“And you don’t want to know most of it.”
Looking at me with scrunched up eyes and a clenched jaw, she says,
“Here’s the thing, Leo, I do want to know. If not because of what’s
happened, then because of what could happen. I don’t want to be in the dark
like your nan if one day something happens to you or Christopher…my
dad.”
Little does she know she’s already in the same boat as my nan, in her
head her grandfather’s death was a freak accident.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandad, and that hurts.” Shit.
Taking her mug, I sit it on the half brick wall that separates the outdoor
eating area from the rest of the garden, and I wrap my arms around her. Her
back moulds to my front so perfectly that I can’t imagine ever having to let
her go.
Am I really so selfish to keep her knowing that I’ve done nothing but
hide the truth from her?
I drag a long breath into my lungs and relish in her scent. She smells
like an untouched meadow in the peak of summer—warm and so fucking
perfect. God, the answer to my own question is really easy.
Yes. I am selfish enough to keep her.
I’m also going to make damn sure that nothing touches her. The world
around us might be burning. Fuck, I might even be helping set fire to it, but
I’ll be damned if I let any of the flames reach her. If the need arises, I’ll be
her personal fire blanket.
“Leo?”
“Yeah?”
“What do you do for my dad?” Twisting her body enough to look up at
me, she guides my face to hers with the tips of her fingers when I look back
at the rippling water. Her lips lightly graze the underside of my bottom lip,
trailing my jaw where she deposits a soft kiss. “I know you think that I’m
safer not knowing, but…I want to know.”
I’m not entirely surprised by her question, but it doesn’t make it any
easier to answer.
“I don’t think that.”
“Then tell me…tell me something. Please.” The grit in her voice leaves
me no other choice.
 “I’m…good with numbers.” I shrug my cop out reply.
The shake of her head is enough to tell me it’s not enough, but without
taking her eyes off mine, Cassie takes a step back, pulling her shoulders
back and standing taller as she turns back to me. “Not good enough. Your
literacy is going to need to match your numeracy pretty fast. I couldn’t give
a shit about numbers right now. You told me to ask you for anything I
wanted, I want answers, Leo.”
“Cass—”
“Hold it right there,” she holds her finger to my lips and takes a deep
breath. “Think very carefully about what you’re about to say. All the
secrets…just give me this one, please?”
“I’m good with numbers. I’m good at making sense of them, at
manipulating them…your father just needs someone to move money under
the radar.”
It’s obvious when she adds up the information I’ve given her, her eyes
harden and a scowl darkens her dolly face as she takes a step back from me.
“Are you laundering money for my dad?”
Her question is a double-edged sword. “Am I laundering money? Not
quite, I mean his money is clean. Legit, so...”
“Leo!”
I have to resist the urge to pull her to me and distract her. Standing right
there with her hands on her curvy hips and her chest heaving like if I say or
do the wrong thing, she might actually kick my arse. It’s hot.
She’s fucking hot.
“I swear to God if you carry on looking at me like that…” Anger looks
devastatingly beautiful on her that I’m tempted to look at her like this
forever.
Taking one of her hands, we start to walk towards the swing and as soon
as Toby sees us on the move, he’s following like a crazed bear.
“Stop him!” she squeals as he comes bounding at her, his mane wet
from where he’s been playing in the water. “Stop him, Leo!”
I can’t help but laugh at the way she’s all bunched up, leaping on the
spot as she tries to avoid getting soaked by him, but honestly, it’s a pointless
task. “Just embrace it…”
“Screw you!” Her laughter is gritty, and although her eyes are narrowed
at me, she’s laughing so hard she snorts.
 “Come on, Toby, enough.” He pauses for a moment looking at me
confused before he jumps at her and they both come crashing down onto the
grass.
Shit.
Cassie’s buried in a tonne of dog and fluff, and Toby looks way too
pleased with himself as he licks her avidly.
“Enough now, dickhead. Off! You’re going to squish her.”
When I finally mange to pry him off her, she’s looking up at me
breathless, a big fuck off smile on her face.
Oh boy.
“Help me up, Neat Freak.”
Oh fuck.
“Seriously, a hand, please!”
I manage to help her up, and as I brush her down, she stands quietly
still, watching me. When I guide her towards the swing, with Toby panting
beside us, she feels more relaxed. And I’m not dreading our conversation as
much anymore.
Sitting on the plank, I pull her to me and help her straddle my lap. Her
chest is still heaving from Toby’s surprise attack, her sweater is wet and
clingy.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten our conversation,” she says, pinching my
chin.
“You smell of wet dog.”
“Your wet dog.”
“He may as well be yours now, he has no interest in me.”
“Leo…” Looking for my eyes she tips my face up with a brush of her
nose on mine. “Talk to me.”
How can I not when she’s looking at me like that—all innocent need
and fiery demand?
“You already know your dad works for the government, but there are
certain things he does that they can’t be seen to meddle in. Political
alliances are a fucker, and no one wants to rock the boat, much less the
Prime Minister who needs all the votes he can get.”
“What are you telling me?”
“I’m telling you that we’re not doing anything wrong. The money I
handle for Francis is legit, I pass it through the hedge fund so it can’t be
traced. From the outside it looks like your dad is drawing down investment
dividends.”
“So what went wrong this time?” Holding on to me tight as I swing us
gently, she studies me. “Why am I a target, Leo?”
“My dad.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah, I’m not the only one that hides money trails. I just happen to do
it for the better side.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows, her eyes glazing over with tears. “He
tried to kill me. Why?”
“Not him, the people he’s working with.”
“If you’re hiding the money trails how come…”
“I don’t know, Cassie. I’m trying to figure it out, but it’s taking forever
and we’re running out of time. We’re under siege, we’re fucked if we do
something and fucked if we don’t.”
“What does that mean?” Yeah, she’s panicking.
“It means that you have to let us do what we need to, so we can keep
you safe.”
“I am. Or at least I’m trying.”
“Your dad, he’s a good guy, Cass. He’ll protect you with everything he’s
got, that’s all you need to know.”
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I swing us a little higher. Making her
hold onto me tighter.
I love everything about this girl. Even though I’ve tried to avoid
admitting it to myself, I already knew it.
My heart beats wildly with my admission, when Cassie meets my eyes,
it takes everything in me not to tell her. It’s too soon.
“I never understood why we had so much security. Why my mother was
always so careful, to the point I thought she was paranoid.”
“She is paranoid. We’re all paranoid. It’s why they want to protect you;
they want to save you from that.”
“It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late.” My thoughts go to Kit and my heart pangs, keening
in my chest. “It can’t be.”
Nodding at my choked-up words, she rests her head on my shoulder.
Her fingers twirling the hair at the edges of my cap as she tucks herself
right into me and swings her legs gently to rock us.
 This is the most at peace I’ve felt in weeks, sitting here with her, in the
place Kit and I love the most. I hope they get to meet, to know one another.
Kit would love Cassie. That thought fills me with tantamount happiness and
sadness, because what if it is too late?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 28

CASSANDRA

T ime is flying by. The last three weeks have been a whirlwind
of late nights and early mornings. Leo won’t tell me much
more, but I can tell there’s something going on. Christopher
is constantly on the phone to him, and every time I see them together,
they’re signing papers and talking in code.
I have this foreboding tightening in my chest that gets heavier each day.
Wayne is glued to my side, and still I can’t feel safe. Leo was right,
ignorance was bliss—it was freedom. Now, I’m a prisoner of my own
paranoia and fear. Every day comes with the dread of what if.
What if they come for me again?
What if Leo gets hurt? Or worse?
What if today is the day Kit fades?
Shuddering at the thought, I try to focus on the dissertation pages in
front of me. They’ve been my reprieve away from Leo. But my fist like
heart won’t stop aching, because with every visit to Kit, I see his hope
whittle down little by little. Piece by piece, and I can feel the desperation
clawing inside him. There’s nothing I can say or do, it’s a frustration unlike
any other I’ve known.
“What’re you thinking?” Leo asks, brushing my hair back into my
topknot.
Despite the weight of his eyes on me, and the way my heart flutters with
the feel of his hand tracing down my side to my belly, I carry on reading
through my work. I think I’ve read the same line at least six times when his
fingers inch down between my thighs, and I have to give up.
You would’ve thought he’d be tired or something. We’ve barely left his
bed today, my body is aching, and as much as I love it, I really need to
finish my essay. This is the last piece of coursework I have left. My three
years of insane studying boils mostly down to this, and I can’t focus
because the heat of his bare skin beneath me has me incapable of thinking
of anything other than the way he feels inside me.
“Stop distracting me…or…” I don’t know what to threaten him with
because I want him to devour me again. The thought of it is enough to make
my toes curl.
Throwing my papers on the ground, beside Toby, I look up at Leo. His
eyes always have the power to steal my breath. It’s crazy, but I find it
impossible not to get lost in his rich green depths.
Every time our eyes meet it feels like he steals a little more of my soul.
I’m slowly drowning in him, losing myself to him.
“Or?” The teasing lull of his voice is soft, but there’s this grit to it that
has me crossing my legs tightly together, even with his hand splayed right
over my underwear.
I have to wonder if he knows the affect he has on me. If it’s something
he does on purpose or a natural reaction between the two of us. Maybe it’s
both.
“Or I’ll leave.” There’s no intent behind my words, and he knows that.
There’s assurance in the grin he’s giving me as his hand pries my thighs
apart, his fingers rubbing the wet lace of my thong. “I’m serious.”
“Yeah?” Leo quirks his brow, his smile straightening into a sharp line
that makes his face look fatally gorgeous from every angle. “Try.”
It’s a flirtatious but intent dare. He’s playing, but at the same time he’s
asserting his power over me. I like it…a lot.
A thrill races through me as I lean up from his lap and his hand slaps
lightly at the hot flesh between my legs. The way my pussy clenches, God,
it’s like I can still feel him filling me. The needy ache burns me from the
inside out and I’m sure that if I talk right now, it will be nothing but a rasp.
Getting up from the sofa I head to the open plan kitchen, I need a cold
drink, or a shower, anything that will stop me from giving him what he
wants easily. Leo wants to play after all. I can play. I can make him work
for his win. There’s no point in me lying to myself about any other
outcome, I already know that he’ll be the victor.
More than that, I want him to be. I want him to own me.
“You know, you can’t run from me, Little Girl.” Wrapping his arms
around me, he sinks his teeth into my earlobe and walks me forward until
I’m bent over the kitchen side. Releasing it with a pop, he says, “I’ll always
find you, Cass. Always. And when I do, I’ll make sure you know exactly
who you belong to and that you never forget.”
My racing heart sputters against my ribs as he palms my arse with one
of his hands. His hardening cock presses between my arse cheeks even
through his underwear and I am almost unable to hold my legs strong.
“And how are you going to do that?” Trying to sound unaffected is a
pointless task at this point. My skin is burning up to the point that I feel like
I’m about to break a sweat from simply being held by him.
I fully expect him to reply back with some spirited remark that is as rapt
as it is cautionary of all the things he could do to me. I’m waiting in
expecting silence as he pulls my hips back and runs his hands down my
thighs and back up until they’re pushing my arse cheeks together.
I’m unsure of what he’s going to do next, and the anticipation alone has
me grinding back onto his groin.
“Stop,” he grits, his hands squeezing my flesh until it pulses for him.
“Aren’t you going to own me, Leo?” I push back into him. “Show me
who’s boss? Who I belong to?”
The air dries up in my lungs when he thrusts forward and my hips hit
the edge of the counter. The pain sparks through me like a turn of a key in
the ignition, and I am ready for more.
“You want me to own you, Cassie? Is that what you want?”
A shudder runs through me as he lowers his mouth to the crook of my
neck and licks at my flesh. It’s such a languid caress, but it holds promise of
fire and more of the ache building inside me.
“What are you waiting for, Little Boy?”
A low growl vibrates from his lips and in a swift motion he spins me
and throws me over his shoulder. His hands are holding on tight to the tops
of my thighs, and all I can do is watch as his arse tenses with his every
movement.
This man is a true work of art. His body is fluid, but there’s so much
strength in his limbs. They’re rigid and chiselled, and I can’t believe that a
man like him could even want me with half of the intensity he does.
Toby is following behind us, his eyes intently on me and a low growl
echoes down the corridor when Leo smacks my arse and the air out of me.
“Go growl somewhere else, buddy.” Slamming the door behind us, he
moves to his bed and throws me on it. Before I can right myself his hands
grip my ankles and in one swift jolt, he flips me onto my belly.
Saliva pools in my mouth and almost chokes me with the way his
thumbnails rake up my legs before he tucks my knees under me so that my
arse is in the air.
I know what’s coming before it happens. I can feel the violent need
between us push and pull. And when his hand comes down on my arse hard,
I scream. It’s a silencing shrill sound that makes the air around us buzz.
“Is this what you want, Cassandra?” Leo asks.
Nodding, I reply in fast, uncontrolled breaths.
“Answer me.”
Swallowing down the water pooling in my mouth, I nod again as I rasp,
“Yes.”
Heat builds in the pit of my stomach as the sting sets in and I’m silently
begging for more. I want him to do it again. I want him to make my body
sing with the ferocity of his touch and feel.
Quivering, I exhale the lungful of air I had no idea I was holding. And
before I can gasp another in, his hot, heavy hand smacks down harder. Tears
sting my eyes and my throat swells to the point I feel like I might not be
able to breathe again.
Leo’s so quiet, like he’s in a trance. But the way he’s rubbing and
palming at my arse is tender and soft in contrast to his blows. He rubs once,
twice, his fingertips trailing the rounded curve of my arse and then he palms
and squeezes again.
He repeats this silent ritual until we’re both breathing so hard, that it’s
impossible to do it quietly.
“Don’t stop.” Taking in his rigid stance behind me, I hiss breathlessly.
His abs are so tense that their chiselled lines look deeper as his dick
strains in his black underwear.
Tremulously, I watch as he watches me. His eyes are on my arse, his
teeth clenched as his hands mould to it. I never thought that beauty
belonged on a man, not until Leo. He’s the most beautiful being I ever
encountered.
 “Cassie,” he rasps, his eyes meeting mine.
“Please.” I’m not below begging for what I want right now. What I need
from him is pure debasement. “I like it, Leo.”
“I know.” Gritting back, one of his hands fists the tail of my thong,
pulling it taught until the front cuts into my labia.
The feeling is so torturous that it’s almost too good, and I can’t stop the
whimper that escapes my lips as his other hand slips the hem of his T-shirt
up my back. Exhaling, he runs his fingertips back down my spine.
Reverently trailing his fingers over each of my vertebrae, like he’s
worshiping every last inch of me.
The way in which he’s touching me feels different to all the other times
he’s taken his time fucking me. It goes beyond need, for him and me. I want
him to take me and make me a part of him. I want to be intrinsic to him. I
want to destroy his capabilities beyond me, like he has done to mine.
“You really are fucking beautiful.” His breathless murmur caresses my
need, amping it up. Making it impossible for me to remain still as he pulls
and twists at my thong.
When I whimper, he pulls harder and my clit throbs from the friction.
My chest is threatening to break open with the way my heart is ramming
into my ribs, and fire licks at my insides, making me so hot that I might
combust.
“So perfect,” he says, at the same time as his hand reaches the base of
my back and his fingers trace the dimples above my arse. “Do you know all
the things I want to do to you?”
Tugging firmly at my underwear, with both hands, he tears it and slowly
pulls it through my soaked flesh.
Holy fucker, the sensation together with the warm, biting buzz on my
arse cheeks has me collapsing on the bed. My chest and shoulders so flush
to it that the curve of my back feels like it’s about to snap.
Dropping the mangled scrap of lace by my face, his lips ghost up my
shoulder to my neck as he braces himself over me. One of his hands
continues to knead my tender flesh. Pulling and pushing at my arse at the
same time as he presses his covered erection to it.
“Do you? Do you know, Cass?” Leo asks, still humping and thrusting
and kneading and squeezing.
Barely able to breath, I can’t even move. I can’t voice that all I want
him to do is fuck me with his bare dick in any way he sees fit. Because the
only thing I’m capable of wanting and rationalising right now is that I want
more of him. I want to be whole. My hollow existence filled with him. I
want to feel him pulse inside me as he coats me with his hot cum.
Just the thought has me clenching, my tummy muscles tightening.
Blazing heat scorches my lungs as I gasp at the feel of his humid breath
trailing down my back. It coats one of my arse cheeks at the same time as
he slips a finger inside my greedy pussy.
“Are you sure you want this?” Groaning he pulls it out and slips it down
to my clit, circling before running it all the way back as he spreads my
juices everywhere.
Yes! I scream inside my head because my racing heart is clogging my
chest in such a way that my mind is fuzzing with my inability to breathe as
the tip of his finger circles my puckered hole.
“Talk, Cassandra!” Leo slaps down firmly on the top of my thigh.
A garbled yelp rushes out of me with my consent and for a moment, I
freeze. It’s not the first time he’s touched me there, but there’s intent in the
slight pressure with which he’s doing it right now.
The blood rushing through my veins feels like a burning blade and even
though I’m filled with trepidation, I can’t help but push back. It’s like a
natural compulsion I can’t control.
“I’m going to own every inch of you, Buttercup.” He breathes heavily
into my pussy, and I realise that he’s on his knees. His face level with my
aching slit. “Do you want that? Do you want to be mine, Little Girl?”
Fuck. I love that controlled edge to his voice that’s at odds with his
fierce, desperate touches and breaths.
“Mmm…”
His tongue licks up from my swollen clit into my clenching pussy at the
same time as he continues circling and gently probing at my arsehole.
Working my arousal up from my pussy and around my hole, Leo sucks,
nips and licks at my folds and my clit.
My mind is scattered with the notion of what he’s doing to me and the
need to let go and give in to the pull of pleasure that’s got my body split
between trepidation and ecstasy.
His fingertip breaches the ring of muscle and the burn as he presses
knuckle deep has my toes curling, my teeth clamping down on the bedding
and raspy yelps scratching my throat.
“Too much?”
 I shake my head in reply and the way the bed moves beneath me has the
pressure of his finger increasing to the point my thighs attempt to press
together.
Prying them back open with his other hand, Leo thrusts his tongue
inside my pulsing pussy. I’m trembling, unable to contain the pleasure that
spreads to every one of my limbs, and he doesn’t stop until I’m clenching
around him so tight that he feels too big almost.
“Don’t stop.” I sputter as he stands, slipping his tongue out of my pussy
and his finger out of my arse.
The desperation in my voice makes me very aware of myself suddenly
and for a moment I want to hide away.
“Patience…” Leo chuckles with another slap to my arse, and then
another, and I really do think he could make me come from the sting alone.
“Don’t move.”
Watching him walk through the bedroom towards the bathroom, my
limbs ache and quake with his command. I need to move. I need to adjust
myself to ease the strain on my sore muscles and bones. But I don’t, instead
I wait for his return.
The thoughts circling my head convoluted with lust and desire, with all
the things I know and all the ones I don’t. Closing my eyes, I take a deep
breath to calm the apprehension building inside me.
“Good girl.” Leo’s voice breaks the silence and a moment later his lips
are caressing one of my throbbing arse cheeks and then the other. His hand
palms my pussy and swipes my gushing arousal all the way back with the
heal of his hand before working it in with undulating pressure as his
fingertips work my clit.
I’m clenching and gasping and waiting. I know it’s coming. I can feel
my muscles tense in that hard, biting way they do just before I fall.
“Should I fuck you yet?” he asks, still working my arsehole with the
heel of his thumb, the blunt pressure is increasing with my impending
orgasm. His other hand snakes up my back into my hair.
“Leo…” I groan as he pulls on my tresses.
The overwhelming feeling of the way he’s working me, is clawing at
my insides.
“Here,” he asks, sliding his fingers from my clit and thrusting two into
my pussy. “Or here?” He slips them back out and trails them to my tight
hole. “Huh?”
 I don’t know. I really don’t, I just want to come. I want to come with
him inside me. Only him.
“What do you want, Cass?” he asks teasingly, and God I hate him.
I hate him so much for being able to scramble me like this. To make me
so desperate that I can’t think straight.
“Tell me.” He smacks the side of my arse.
“Yes!” The frisson of need the sting of it sparks at my core is
maddening. “Fuck me!”
I expect him to make me tell him where, but his cock slams inside my
pussy. So deep and bluntly that it kills the scream burning up my throat and
jolts me up the bed.
“God, I love your fucking cunt.” He grunts as he thrusts deeper, the
hand in my hair trailing down my back.
Filling me like this, with brute force and violent need, he feels better
than anything I’ve ever felt. The bruising grip of his hands on my hips
doesn’t feel enough anymore. My need for more of him intensifies with
every stroke of his cock.
“Harder.”
There’s a slight pause where I feel him hesitate, in the way he always
does before he lets loose and gives in to what we both want. It passes my
mind for a moment whether the urgency and ferocity of this need for me
goes against his compulsion to keep me safe. To protect what’s his.
But as his thrusts reach the deepest parts of me, my thoughts muddle
and all I can do is chase each stroke as I clench around his thick dick.
My body threatens to buckle as my orgasm boils inside me, and my
thighs quiver as the hand anchoring me to him falls from my hip.
“That’s it, fuck yourself on my cock.” The gravelly command is
punctuated by a cool trickle on my arsehole, followed by the soft slide of
his fingertips down my crease to my puckered opening.
The gentle, pressured probing has goose bumps breaking all over my
skin in heat flushed waves, and as I push back onto his dick, he presses
them inside me. The breaching pain searing through me. The pressure
enough to cripple me, but the fullness. Oh my God, I feel him everywhere.
The ache in my calves from my tensing muscles fizzes up my body until
I have to stretch my arms above my head and clench the duvet tightly in my
fists.
 “Mmphh,” I moan as he twists his fingers and undulates his long strokes
into my pussy. “Mmmphhh…”
Never have I been so desperate for pain. My pleasure sparks brighter
from the discomfort of being so full, and my orgasm itself is threatening to
rip through me.
“Make me come…please, Leo…” I beg him as his fingers scissor me
open and he fills me to the hilt. “Please.”
Emptiness swallows me, like the night darkening daylight, when he
pulls out of me. And whilst I’m still fretting over the loss of the fullness and
being robbed of my impending orgasm, he flips me onto my back. The
breath is knocked out of me as he pulls me to the edge of the bed and then
presses my knees to my chest.
“Hold them there.” He orders as he runs his hands down my thighs to
my arse.
I do. My hands claw at the back of my knees and pull them tight to my
chest. So tight that my muscles protest.
I’ve never felt so exposed in my whole life and yet, the way his wild
eyes rake over my body, as he traces the head of his cock up and down from
my clit to my arse and back has my body bowing with desire for him to take
me.
“You were mine the moment I first saw you, Cassie.” Eyes, never
leaving mine, he thrusts inside my pussy. “Fucking you doesn’t make any
difference to the fact.”
A whimper pushes out of me as he presses deeper, his nails raking down
the backs of my legs. Exhaustion from chasing my orgasm has my aching
body trembling as he pumps once, twice into me and then he slowly drags
himself out.
The position in which I’m lying stops me from seeing the way he’s
stroking himself, but his eyes flit between mine with his rapid breaths. His
cool fingertips massage my puckered hole and a shudder wracks through
my body when he presses his blunt tip to me. The pressure begins to burn as
he slowly breaches the tight ring of muscle.
My world feels like it’s heating up at its core, like it might combust any
minute now. I don’t know what to do, but the burning sting travels up my
spine, clambering until it’s at the back of my throat and eyes, and pouring
down my temples in heated tracks.
 “Fuck!” Leo grunts and groans with every measured thrust. “Fuck,
Cass, you feel so fucking tight it hurts.”
Good! I want to say, but I still can’t form words. My thoughts don’t
really make sense. I want him to go harder, sink in faster, but at the same
time I want him to stop. I’m clenching and throbbing and aching for more.
But the fact that he is hurting like me, it’s enough to drive me to the
edge again. I like that. I like that in hurting me, he’s hurting himself.
There’s something oddly comforting about it.
“That’s it, baby, good girl…” Sweat rolls from his hairline and drips
onto my belly as he praises me.
“Leo…I’m…Oh—” I am lost as he strokes up my sternum and presses
so deep into me that I can do nothing but close my eyes and soak up the
way he feels inside me like this.
Gently he pries my hands away from my thighs, caressing the sore welts
from where I’ve dug my nails into my own flesh. Then he moves me up the
bed until he’s kneeling between my thighs with his cock buried deep in my
arse and his chest flush to mine.
It feels like too much at first, like he really does own every last part of
me. Like we are two chemicals of the same element.
“Look at me,” he breathes into my ear as he pulls back.
I simper at the way his dick throbs and pushes deeper, and I have to
press my hands to his chest to ground me, as the pain slowly ebbs. All that’s
left is this heat I can’t help but luxuriate in as it warms every nook and
cranny of my body. It sets light to every one of my nerves and I am nothing
but a ball of delirious pleasure waiting to erupt.
“Are you okay?” Bearing down on his forearms, he brushes my messy
knotted hair from my face. My bun is long gone, it’s just a loose nest
around me.
“Mmmhmm…” Nodding, more tears roll down the side of my face, as
he holds so still inside me that he feels like a true part of me.
Leaning down he licks them dry, just like he did the first time he fucked
me, and I don’t know why, but it sets off this slew of sobs that have my
body shaking and trembling. The more I move, the deeper he feels, the
hotter I get, and then I just need him to fuck me.
I don’t care about the pain or the discomfort, I just want him to give me
everything he’s got.
 “You’re fucking gorgeous when you cry,” he murmurs stroking my hair,
licking my tears, kissing and sucking at my earlobes and cheeks. “And your
tears taste so good.”
As he begins to pull out, my hands claw down to his sides, my ankles
cross at his arse and I hold him inside me. My prisoner.
“Fuck me…please, please…fuck me, Leo!” I desperately beg in
between bites and sucks of his shoulder. “Own me.”
“I already do, Buttercup.” His need spearing through me with his words,
I buck up and the way my clit rubs onto the flat of his groin, has me
moaning. My breath rasps in desperate lust filled hiccups as his dick pulses
in my arse.
The groan that vibrates from his chest as he undulates his hips has me
squirming beneath him and clawing at his hard flesh and humid skin.
“Your body is mine. You belong to me, Cassandra,” he confirms, his
head lowering to my neck before he bites hard. “Only me. Only ever mine.”
“Yes,” I moan as he thrusts deep and fast into me and it feels so good
that my legs spread limp to the sides.
Pulling him as close as I can manage in my near boneless state, I kiss
the side of his head. Relishing the taste of his sweat as he pulls out and
thrusts in again and again, until we’re both breathing so fast that it’s a
constant loud hum.
Everything fades into nothingness, apart from Leo. He’s the centre of
my universe, the axis that holds me where I belong in all the madness. With
every one of his sucks and nips at my neck, the exact same spot his bruise
has faded, all I can think is that I’ll never be able to go without him again.
Dropping my hand from Leo’s waist to my belly, I pinch and claw at my
flesh. The bite sends frissons of pleasure right to my core. And as my
fingers inch lower until they’re between us, almost but not quite touching
my clit, he rasps into my ear, “Do it, fuck that beautiful cunt for me.”
Sitting back onto his legs, he drapes my thighs over his, squeezing my
hips as he pulls me down on his cock repeatedly. Eagerly watching as my
fingers skitter down my slit, to my pussy before I slip my fingers inside.
I watch him watching me finger myself, grinding the heal of my hand
on my clit as he fucks my arse.
God, I have no idea what we look like, but I can imagine it and that
image together with our moans, groans, and gritted curses has me fracturing
right in front of his lust hazed eyes.
 My whole body convulses as I detonate around him, feeling every one
of his thrusts so deep that I don’t know how the hell I’m going to cope
when he is no longer inside me.
Swiping my limp hand from between us, he collapses on me with a deep
groan. And all I can think is how much I love his crushing weight, the way
he’s as boneless as I am when we fuck like this.
I hate it when he rolls off me and not only am I left empty, but I’m also
cold and bereft.
Opening my eyes, I can’t help but smile at Leo, lying on his side, with a
soft smirk cutting his face as he leans on his arm like some sex god or
something.
Without saying a word, he gets up and disappears through to the en-
suite. When he returns, he kneels beside me on the bed, pressing a kiss to
my lips as he cleans me up with a warm cloth.
Leo’s so gentle that I moan, savouring his care. “Feel owned now,
Buttercup?” he asks, dropping the cloth to the floor as he lies beside me and
wraps his arms around me.
Smiling I kiss his chest, because although his remark was jovial, I do
feel owned. I feel more than owned by him. I feel like we’re a natural
foregone conclusion. An elemental entity of our own.
The rustle of his breath through my messy hair has me shuffling
impossibly closer to him, and when our legs tangle and he has me locked in
his arms, he whispers, “I love you.”
“You love me.”
Nodding, he kisses my head, tightening his hold on me. It’s the most
beautiful feeling in the world to be in this moment with him. “You’re mine,
Little Queen.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 29

CASSANDRA

T onight’s a big night, Leo’s dropped little nuggets about his

mum here and there. But it still doesn’t feel like I know
anything about her. I tried asking Wayne but all he said was
he liked to keep his wife to himself.
His wife. How did I not even know he had a wife? I’ve known him my
whole bloody life!
I’m learning, though, that every person around me is riddled with
secrets. Paranoia is every man’s companion, and I wonder how I’ve made it
this far into my life without feeling it or seeing it.
The last week things have become fraught with tension. No one makes a
move without everyone knowing about it. It’s all so smothering and every
time I’m out of the house I swear I can’t breathe with how anxious I feel.
Something feels very wrong. The way Leo’s checking his mirrors non-stop,
like someone is following us…
“What’s wrong?” I ask him one more time, checking the mirrors myself
at the shake of his head. “Why’re you so jumpy?”
“I need you to call your dad.” Not looking away from the road he puts
his foot down and his Maserati pushes forwards with impossible ease as I
fumble with my phone. My eyes darting between my screen and the
dashboard, my heart hammering as the speedometer passes the one-twenty
mark and I’m virtually glued to my seat.
It doesn’t stop climbing either, and when my dad answers his phone I
can barely talk. The engine is growling so loud that it’s almost impossible to
hear my father’s voice.
“We have a problem,” Leo shouts over the noise of the engine, his
hands tight around the steering wheel. “We’re being followed.”
“Where are you?”
“Almost at Mum’s.”
With a growl Leo slows as we come off the A-road, the pavements
widening on either side of us.
“You know what to do, don’t stop unless you have to. Hear me?”
Ironically, we come to a stop at the traffic lights, pedestrians cross the
road oblivious to what’s going on inside our car. It’s just another evening to
them.
Leo reaches across into the glovebox, taking out the dark metal weapon.
I can’t help the chill that wracks through me every time I see it, but it’s a
means to an end, one that will keep us alive.
“I’ll meet you at Ros’. I don’t care what laws you break; we’ll fix it
after.”
“Got it.” Leo takes the phone form my hand and throws it on the dash,
before grabbing my hand and curling it around the gun. “The safety is off.
You use two hands to hold it, pull this back and you shoot.”
“I…I…” Shaking, I can’t hold my hands steady.
“Listen to me, Cass, it’s simple. Aim. Pull. Shoot. Aim. Pull. Shoot.”
“Aim. Pull. Shoot.” My God, my chest hurts with how hard my heart is
gonging inside. It’s taking everything I have to breathe through my panic
and surge of adrenaline.
“I’m going to floor it, but I need you to have my back.” Eyes darting to
the rear-view mirror, his jaw clenches as he straightens in his seat, his hands
wrapping tightly around the steering wheel. The sound of the engine
revving punches through me like a wake-up call and I draw in a long, sharp
breath. Breathing it out I loosen as much as I can, my high heels digging
into the carpeted floor.
“I love you.” Winking, he smirks and it’s disconcerting as fuck. The
words whirl around in my head like a tornado, I can’t think of anything else
and as the lights behind us get brighter…closer, my fear is buried deep.
The moment the lights turn amber, Leo launches from the crossing.
Horns going off and speed cameras flashing in our wake. The entire time I
hold the gun as tightly as I can, my eyes flit from my wing mirror to the
rear-view one. My heart’s crazed rhythm slowing as the bright lights fade
into the distance.
Turning onto a dark street, he turns out his lights. Driving slower, in the
faint glow of the sprawling houses on either side. He makes another turn
onto a gated drive, and before the car has come to a complete stop, Wayne
is yanking at my door, “Open the fucking car!” I watch the gates close
behind us. They’re tall, dark, and finally I feel safe.
Letting go of the gun, I let Leo take it from me and before I can look at
him, Wayne is pulling me out.
“You okay, Cassie?” he asks, carrying me into the dimly lit house.
I can only nod. My body feels limp and unable to hold its own as I
shiver and shake.
“Give her space.” A warm, familiar voice sounds from behind us. “Let
her breathe, Wayne.”
He’s only just letting go, when I’m swept up and pulled into Leo’s arms.
My chest loosening as he sits on the stairs with me on his lap. His breaths
heave as he brushes my hair back and strokes every inch of my face with
his thumbs.
“Honestly, just give her some space!”
Feeling Leo tense around me, I look up and I have to do a double take,
not just once, but a few times, before I’m sure my professor isn’t a figment
of my fraying nerves.
She holds out a small glass with a soft smile, “Here, have a drink…it
usually helps wash these things down.”
These things?
Car chases or…or…
“Cassie,” Leo grits, holding me tighter as I try to scramble off his lap.
My thoughts are raging around my head with the whoosh of my rushing
blood fuzzing everything around me.
“Let me go.”
“No. No fucking way, not after that.”
I’m trembling with all the feelings seething inside me. “How could
you…” Pushing firmly away from him, I pry myself out of his arms, almost
knocking my professor down the bottom step as I stumble.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” I smack Leo’s hand when he tries to steady
me. “You lied!”
“It wasn’t a lie.”
 “It wasn’t the truth either.”
Wayne starts to follow Professor Winthrop down the hall, yeah, he
knows he’s in the bad books too.
“She’s my tutor.”
“And? She’s my mother.” Standing, he takes the three steps down to me.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I trust you, Leo. You told me all about your dad…Kit…why
not your mum?”
“It’s why I brought you here today!”
“Today? She’s my fucking professor!” Grinding my fist to my lips, I try
to recover some modicum of my patience. “Professor Winthrop is your
mother.”
“Rosalind Alison Winthrop, is my mum.” Leo takes a cautious step
towards me looking at me with those green puppy dog eyes that make my
chest tighten like a fucking useless fist. It’s already melting from his wide-
eyed pout.
“I should throw my shoes at your head. You’ve had so many chances to
tell me.” Sitting on the second step, he pulls me down beside him and
although I contemplate taking one of my heels off and hitting him on the
head with it, I don’t.
It would probably feel better to thump him, but it would do nothing for
the situation anyhow. He’s so hard-headed.
“Next month, she’ll be nothing more than my mother to you. And I
know that now, you’re probably worrying that people will think she favours
you…”
No shit. I can already hear what everyone will say.
She couldn’t sleep with the professor, so she went for her son.
People can be mean and rumours like this spread like wild fire.
“She doesn’t. In fact, she doesn’t hold much hope for you.”
Wait! It takes a moment for his words to sink through my worry, but
when they do, I stiffen. “What?”
Tilting my face to his, he smirks down at me. Even seated he feels like
he’s towering over me with his broad shoulders and long torso. “I’m joking,
relax.”
He’s joking? Mr-fucking-broody-pants picks this time to joke?
“She refuses to talk about you when it comes to work and studies. She’s
a professional like that, but I think she likes you…I mean, she’s only told
me to run a mile once or twice.” He laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever.
Arrrgh, I hate him!
“You’re a fucking arsehole!” I whack him in the chest as I get up and
walk away.
“Come on, Cass!”
I have no idea where I’m heading, but my head is spinning, my insides
are vibrating. I’m in motherfucking overload.
Clenching my hands, I try to steady myself as I pause in the dim
hallway. The kitchen door is closed and all I can hear coming from inside is
the clinking of cutlery and crockery.
I don’t know if I can do this anymore. After everything that’s
happened…
“Cassie,” Spinning on my heels, I’m ready to lose myself in Leo’s
embrace. But the minute I find his face, my stomach ties into a hundred
knots. “I have to tell you something else.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 30

LEO

H eart in my throat, I guide Cassie up the steps to my old room.

Walking in ahead of me, she spins when she reaches the foot
of the bed, looking around like she’s in one of her beloved
galleries.
The walls are the same shade of white-washed blue, lined with shelves
full of books and football trophies. Running and fencing medals hang on the
walls with my certificates. It’s like a time capsule in here, and for a moment
I expect Kit to come barging in to tell me off for touching his video games.
Except he doesn’t, and God, how my chest hurts.
Picking up one of the many photos of me and Kit, she studies it.
“You’re taller.”
“Not by much.”
She looks between me and the photo, and as she puts it down, she says,
“You’re more like your mum.”
The silence is stifling with the knowledge of what I’m about to tell her,
and it’s so much easier to consider fucking her on the bed than hurting her.
But this drip-feeding business isn’t working.
Picking up another photo she winds the strands framing her face around
her finger. When she’s had a good look, she puts it back down.
“You said you hate him.” She fusses with the open collar of her navy
striped shirt.
“I do.” She has no idea how much.
 “His smile…” Her eyes find mine and meander down my face to my
lips.
We share smiles and build, and the same knack for hurting the people
we love.
Coming closer, she pauses a couple of feet in front of me. “He doesn’t
look like a bad person.”
“Don’t be naïve.” The words come out rougher than I intend and
although I can tell they land hard, she doesn’t flinch or cringe.
“Leo, you—” Taking a step forwards she tucks her hair behind her ears.
“I what? You think his fucking smile makes him a good person? He got
your grandad killed! It was him, not some fucked up accident!”
Face falling, she comes closer. “What did you say?”
I can’t bring myself to repeat the words, so we both stand chest to chest,
unmoving. Waiting for the dams in her flooded eyes to break.
“What. Did. You. Say?”
“You heard.”
It comes out of nowhere. I don’t see it coming and I’m sure as fuck sure
she doesn’t realise what she’s doing until it’s done.
My cheek stings, it burns with the impact of her slap and I honestly
believe that she’s going to go for another. Except she doesn’t.
“I hate you.” Her trembling lips distort her voice and with a blink, tears
sluice down her face. “You told me to wipe out the people who cause my
tears, remember?”
How could I forget?
“Done. You. Me. All this crazy shit. Wiped.” Proving her point, she
wipes her tears before she heads for the door.
She can wipe whatever the fuck she wants, but if she thinks she’s
wiping me, she’s fucking deluded.
“You think it’s that easy?” Striding ahead of her, I stand by the door.
“That you can just walk away?”
Barely able to hear my words through the pounding in my chest I can’t
bring myself to reach out to her. Maybe it makes me a coward, but I can’t
risk her rejection right now. I’m already on edge from earlier.
“I asked you to trust me. To let me take care of you and anyone who
hurt you. I’m trying, Cassie. Do you think I’m responsible for your tears?”
“You lied to me on repeat! And before you tell me it wasn’t lies; an
omission is as good as a lie. I trusted you with everything…I let you
have…”
“You didn’t let me, you begged me to take it all. And if you think it
would’ve been any different had you known everything, you’re fucking
mistaken. I didn’t want to hide any of this from you.”
“Then you should’ve told me everything before it got to this. I know
who to blame for my tears, but you hurt me too.”
Opening the door, she walks away, and I can’t stop her.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 31

CASSANDRA

F our days. That’s how long I’ve gone without talking to Leo.
Without seeing him. That’s how long I’ve been missing him.
Every part of me is numb, and I suppose I should be grateful
for it because every time I think of his words, I wait for the grief to swallow
me all over again.
It never does though. The only feeling I have is longing. For Leo. For
things to have been different.
“I’d go for the sexy number, that arse…” Fleur sings as I start to shuffle
out of the tight black strappy gown she picked out. “I’m telling you, the
best way to get over a dick is to—”
“Seriously, if you tell me to fuck another guy again, I’m going to
disown you.” Handing her the negligée gown, I start to pull on my clothes.
“I told you, you either forgive, forget, and go back for more. Or you
move on. This whole woe-is-me shit, I’m sorry, it just doesn’t fucking wash
with me.”
“It’s not about you.”
It’s about me not being a gullible fool.
“Has he even tried to talk to you or see you?”
Swallowing down the hurt, I tell her, “No.”
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve checked my phone or walked the
hallway of my father’s office in the hopes of seeing him. Trying to hate Leo
is a double-edged sword through the heart. I want to hurt him for hurting
me, but I think I’m the only one who’s suffering.
 “Maybe he’s waiting for this thing on Saturday. He’ll corner you and—”
“Stop!” Exiting the changing room, I take my handbag from Fleur and
we follow the sales assistant back to the shop floor. I already knew I was
going to go for the ball gown, so I don’t know why I bothered trying Fleur’s
choice.
“You stop interrupting me!” she snaps as I sort out the bill.
After arranging to have the dress taken to the house, we get back into
Wayne’s Range. The quiet is heavy and when I look in the rear-view mirror,
he doesn’t once meet my eyes. I can feel he’s upset with me and it only
adds to the burden in my chest.
“When’s Arabella meant to be dropping again? I mean, they’re meant to
be getting married before she pops, but she looks ready to.”
“She’s got another three months roughly, and technically they’re already
married, or legally, whatever.”
“I know, but they’re not really married until the big shebang, and I
know it’s big because I heard your dad talking to my dad about it. Security
is going to be insane. Do you remember that time we went on the field trip
to the Houses of Parliament and the only thing they failed to check was
bodily fluids? I’m talking that kind of security.”
I knew there was going to be security, after all that’s happened, I’d be
more surprised if there wasn’t. Not to mention that with Arabella being the
Deputy Prime Minister’s daughter this is one of the most anticipated
weddings of the year.
Lately everything seems to be laced with danger and, with that thought,
worry starts to nag at me again. I keep wondering whether the reason that
Leo hasn’t said anything is because something’s happened to him and
they’ve decided I don’t need to know about it either.
“Wayne?”
“Cassandra.” He’s definitely not happy with me.
“Is he okay?”
Studying his eyes in the rear-view mirror I wait for his reply, but it
never comes. We’re quiet the rest of the way to the house. When we arrive,
Fleur is quick to get out of the car and leave us to it.
“Wayne—”
“I’ve known you all your life. Protected you like you were mine. And
I’ve always admired how different you are to most privileged girls. You’re
kind and forgiving, it’s what makes you you.”
 “Leo lied to me.” Saying his name is like a shock to my system. I’ve
thought it a million times, but I’ve avoided verbalising it until now. And,
how right I was. Saying his name doesn’t just hurt, it feels like a knife to
my already bleeding heart.
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I said to him when he told me he
couldn’t lie to you about Lucian—sometimes, to protect the people we love
we’re all liars. Every single one of us.”
Tears prickle my eyes as I struggle to catch my breath. “Why did you
tell him that? If he’d told me then…”
Watching as he exits the car and then opens my door, I try to make
sense of my feelings and thoughts. But I find none.
“Then what? You’re going on like he committed the crime you’re
punishing him for. He’s done nothing but fight your corner. He’s done
whatever it takes to keep you safe. Do you have any idea what it takes to
kill a man, deserving or not?”
“I…”
“Like I said, I’ve treated you like my own. But Leo is mine, and if can’t
protect him, then I have no business protecting you either. You want to
know how he is?” Eyes narrowed on me he helps me out of the car and
walks me up to the front door. “You care that much, then go find out for
yourself. But before you do anything, I suggest you ask Francis about their
plan.”
“What plan?” I keep going around in circles, from pillar to post. It’s
exhausting.
“The one where he sacrifices everything for you.” Closing the door, he
starts towards the back of the house, but then he stops and turns to me with
concern etched on his face. “Try and be deserving of him.” Shaking his
head, he continues on his way and I’m speechless.

TAKING A DEEP BREATH, I knock on my father’s office door and let

myself in before I bottle it. Conversation freezes as I step through the
threshold of the room, and my heart is beating so hard that my vision blurs
at the edges.
 Like their talk, I’m frozen in a stupor. My pulse hammering through my
veins so loudly that I can’t hear myself think.
“Cassie?” Dad’s muffled voice filters through my fog, making me all
too aware of all five pairs of eyes on me. “Is everything okay?”
Shaking my head, I struggle to communicate that nothing is okay.
Especially not now, that I’m face to face with Leo again. God, he looks…
how I feel. Broken and empty, and all manner of things that I’ve tried to
avoid sink in.
Everything is wrong.
My numbness evaporates leaving me in a burning pit of longing, regret,
and hurt. My heart wrenches in my chest as I take in his dark navy
waistcoat and crisp white shirt. The sight of him in a suit is by far my
favourite, right behind him wearing nothing.
God, I miss him so much.
Unable to get my head straight, I stand in the middle of the room barely
able to breathe or keep myself from running to Leo.
“What’s happened?” Christopher is on his feet and at my side before I
can shake myself out of my trance. Standing over my five-seven frame he
looks me over, not finding anything he takes a step back with a confused
look on his face.
“I need to talk to Dad.”
“Cass…”
“I said Dad, not you.” Looking over Christopher’s shoulder my gaze
finds our father’s. “What are you doing?”
“We’re done here for today. Casper we’re in the office tomorrow,” he
states loudly, his voice filling every square inch of the room.
The office starts to clear, Freddie drags Christopher out with him and
Casper. Leo’s about to follow, but his steps seem weighted and the closer he
gets the harder it is not to go to him. Not to touch him. I don’t though.
“What are you doing?” It’s obvious he knows what I’m asking, because
his eyes dart to the floor in avoidance. “What’s your plan, Leo?”
Flashing to mine, his eyes burn bright in contrast to his tired face.
“Walk away, Little Girl.” He hisses so low that only I can hear.
It’s silly how those two words are enough to set off every fire inside me.
Little Girl. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s called me that, but today
it feels different. There’s something in his tone that’s dark and dangerous.
“It’s none of your business.”
 Taking another step towards him, I raise my chin, standing straighter
and as tall as I can. “You’re my business.”
“Not last I checked.”
“Well, check again, Little. Boy.” Stepping to the side I head for the large
desk they were having their meeting around. My body brushes his, and I
swear I can feel his shudder through mine.
I can feel our strings pull taut and wind, bringing us closer. Robbing my
breath and making me forget why I ever walked away from him. Funny
how perception changes everything.
Sitting down in the seat opposite my father, my focus is pulled to the
papers in front of me. Before my dad has a chance to hide it, I try and get a
good look. It’s all numbers and gibberish to me.
“What do you want, Princess?”
“To know what this plan of yours is. Why is Wayne worried?” Turning
to the side, I look between him and Leo. They’re staring each other out like
they’re getting their story straight.
Meanwhile I keep waiting for one of them to give me what I want. I’ve
waited long enough. I’ve been patient. But I’m done. I want my answers.
“I left Fairfax Capital.” Leo says, rounding the table to sit back in his
seat beside Dad.
“What? But…” It doesn’t make sense. He works so hard for the
company. “You love it. It’s yours and Kit’s, and what about your grandad?”
“Sometimes walking away is the best thing.”
Unable to think of what to say to that, I study the grain of the dark wood
between us. “So what are you doing now?”
“Moving on…”
Moving on? Nausea twists my stomach as panic swells my throat. Is he
talking about the company, me or both?
“It’s all part of the plan.” Leo adds.
“What plan?”
Getting up, Dad tucks his chair in and stands behind it, with his hands
on his hips like I’m taking up too much of his time. “It’s best you don’t
know.”
“Just like everything else?” I stand mirroring his stance.
“Yes! What have you gained from learning about any of this?”
Ignoring my father, I lean over the desk, bracing myself on it so that I’m
eye to eye with Leo. “What have we gained from the secrets?”
 He’s quiet, searching my face with his tired eyes and deep sighs. The
distance between us feels like it’s shrinking and all I can think of is how
easy it would be to lean forwards just a little more and press my lips to his.
How good would it feel again?
“Nothing,” he whispers, his gaze flitting to my neck where his mark has
yellowed away.
“What have you done?”
“What I should’ve done the moment I found out about all this. I’m
shutting it down.” His shrug doesn’t hide the fact that he’s devastated. It
doesn’t matter how many fronts he tries to put up, I see the sadness in his
eyes.
“Don’t do this for me.”
“It’s not just for you, it’s for Kit too. Besides, it’s too late to turn back
now.”
“It’s never too late, remember? You told me that.” Straightening, I round
the table and sit beside him. I can feel my dad watching us, and when my
eyes meet his, I find him studying us. “It’s not too late, right?”
“It’s the only way to weed out the people behind all this.” Dad replies,
his hand resting on Leo’s shoulder like he’s giving him support.
“Behind what?”
“All this.” Pointing around the room at all the boards filled with
scribbles and papers, he shrugs. “Not everyone in this world is good, some
people are corrupt. They think of themselves above everybody else. It’s my
job to stop them.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Sliding closer to Leo, I cover his
hand with mine.
When his eyes find mine, he says, “My dad is helping those people, and
they’re enabling all the shit you can think of.”
“Like?”
Sitting down, Dad laces his hands on the table in front of him. For the
first time ever, I notice the depth of his frown lines in comparison to his
smile ones, the way his bright brown eyes are framed by tired lines, it
makes me wonder how I failed to see all these things for so long.
“Leo came up with a clever way of moving money, it helps people that
need it and at the same time it pays back. These corrupt people, they accept
money from drug lords, sex and weapon traffickers and they put it into
places that will up the demand for what they supply. Do you understand?”
 My knotted stomach turns as bile rises up my throat. This is beyond me,
I know of all these things, the events we go to…the charities we support…
“The only way to slow them down is to block the flow of their funds.”
“So you see, I have to do this. I have to burn my father’s house down.”
Turning his hand up, he looks to me, stroking the back of mine with his
thumb. “I have no choice.”
“It’s your house too.”
“No, Cass, it’s not.” Shaking his head, he murmurs, and I swear he
wants to say more, but he smiles softly instead.
“How are you planning on shutting them down?”
“You leave trails for the right people to find.” The way he says it is
enough for me to know that I’m not going to like this plan. “We leaked
some files.”
“You did what?” I’m standing before I can stop myself and pacing up
and down the width of the double doors that lead to the garden. Fussing
with the hem of my short, black summer dress, I curl my toes in my
Converse as I come to a stop between them.
I can’t get my head around this. “Are you out of your fucking minds?
That’s career suicide!”
“It’s a risk, but it’s worth taking. Plus, I have a back-up plan.
Christopher and I have gone over everything and made sure it’s as tight as it
can get in the eyes of the law.”
“As great as he with the law, he can’t change the fact that money
laundering is a crime. Regardless of who you do it for. You could have your
trading licence revoked. Fuck, you could go to prison! Why are you not
worried, Leo? And more importantly, why did you let him do it?” Looking
between them, I feel ready to bang their heads together. They’re so unfazed
it’s ridiculous.
They’re exchanging these looks like I’m the one that’s out of my
fucking mind—which I am, because the guy I’m fucking stupidly in love
with is telling me he’s selling himself down the river. Good cause or not, I’d
rather have him.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not the crazy one here!”
“Jesus, will you sit down and let us explain?” Standing from his chair,
Dad slides his closer to me as he sits on the edge of the desk.
He waits until I sit down—even though I’m fidgeting like I’ve had a
tonne of caffeine—to talk.
 “There’s nothing to suggest that Leo knew anything about it, as far as
anyone can tell he left to start his own fund. Jack will be moved up and it’ll
look like someone moving on. What happened after he left, is nothing to do
with him. There’s always going to be suspicion, but the best thing to do is
ignore it and carry on.”
“What if it goes wrong?”
“It won’t.” My dad sounds so certain that I have no choice but to accept
it, even if my gut feeling tells me otherwise. “There’s going to be a lot of
attention on him, so the best thing is to keep your distance for a while…”
“No.” That’s not happening! Taking Leo’s hand, I thread it with mine on
my lap. “You’re not throwing him to the wolves alone.”
“You don’t understand, Cass—”
“Yes, I do. And I’ve seen how these things go, if you’re alone, they’ll
bury you. I’m not letting that happen. I want to keep you.” Tears warm my
eyes as chills roll through me, because he could tell me he doesn’t want me
anymore. I walked away from him.
“It’s not about any of that,” turning to face me, he brushes my hair from
my face before pressing the back of his finger along the burgeoning rim of
my eye. Leo doesn’t wipe my tears, he takes them before they fall and
damn, if that isn’t a heartbreakingly perfect thing. “Doing this puts me on
the frontline, when they come for me, if you’re next to me…”
“But it’s my choice, isn’t it, and if I choose you—”
“Princess…”
“It’s not up for debate. It’s not like I’m safe anyhow, so what difference
does it make if we’re together?”
Shaking his head, Leo stands, and refusing to let go of his hand I stand
with him. My heart races as he turns to me, the look on his face is more hurt
than concern. “If everything falls to shit—”
“It falls to shit around us.” Cutting him off, my words run into one
another like my heartbeats.
“You say that now.”
“I’ll say it again and again, every second of everyday if I have to. I’m
stuck to you, remember?”
The first glimpse of a smile colours his face and boy, if it isn’t the most
beautiful sight I’ve seen in days.
“Your mother isn’t going to be happy about this.” Dad gets up and
heads for the door.
 “She chose you, didn’t she?” I retort, as he leaves the room and my
arms circle Leo’s waist, my fingertips luxuriating on the soft, cool feel of
the silk back of his waistcoat.
It’s not until his arms wrap tightly around me that I can take my first
real breath since I walked away. The air filling my lungs feels as good as
the breeze on a hot summer’s day.
“You left me.” Fisting his hands in my hair, he tugs my face up to his.
“You said you’d always find me.”
“And?” He tugs a little more, until I have no choice but to rise on the
tips of my toes and come flush to him.
“You’d make sure I know who I belong to and that I never forget.” My
words stick at the back of my throat, garbled and breathy. “How are you
going to do that?”

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 Chapter 32

LEO

I can’t stop looking at her, the last four days have been pure
torture. It didn’t matter that I was here, or that I was dealing
with the last details of this plan with Christopher. All I could
think about was Cassie and what she was doing or not doing. Whether she
was thinking of me. Missing me like I was missing her.
Releasing her hair, I lightly drag my fingertips up the column of her
neck. When her lips quiver with her tremulous breath, I can’t help but bite
down on her plump flesh. She’s so fucking sweet that water pools in my
mouth with every bite and lick of her lips.
Murmuring my name in between kisses, her hands bunch and pull at my
waistcoat desperately. I’m so close to fucking her right here, right now that
I can barely move with how tight my hard dick is making my trousers.
“I missed you so much…so fucking much.”
Backing her up to the wall, I kiss the tip of her nose, trailing my lips up
her cheek until I reach her ear. “You walked away.”
“I know.” She slips a little down the wall. Her hair sticking wildly
above her as her hands slap to the wall on either side of her. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t want to hurt her or make her cry, but all I can think is what if she
leaves me again?
“Don’t ever leave me again.”
“I won’t.”
“Swear it!” Her thighs clench as I trace one hand up to her arse and
squeeze. My fingertips sink into her flesh as they press to her soft skin, and
it feels like no matter how deep I get into her it’ll never be enough. Nothing
is ever enough with Cassie.
“I’ll never leave you again,” she says, her face leaning down to my
chest. “I swear.”
It’s not good enough. I want to see her face when she promises to stay
with me forever. “Look at me and promise you won’t walk away again.”
Looking back up, her head tilts all the way back. Her eyes searching my
face desperately. “I promise. I promise I won’t leave. I swear I won’t walk
away. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry, please believe me.”
Cupping her face, I take a step closer. Her legs open as a long languid
sigh parts her thick lips and fuck if I don’t want to make her repeat all those
promises with my dick in her mouth and tears rimming her eyes.
“I want to fuck you so hard you cry, Little Girl.”
“Do it.” She breathes. “Punish me, Leo.”
“Do you know how fucked up it is that I want to do that?”
“Is it fucked up if I want you to?” Panting into my mouth, she slips a
hand around my hip and tucks into the top of my trousers. The bite of her
nails digging into the top of my arse is so good that my dick throbs and I
can barely manage my hoarse, “Yes.”
Yes. Yes, it is messed up.
Smiling, she licks her lip before rolling it between her teeth. It fucking
kills me when she does that.
That innocent look on her beautiful face. The way her eyes widen, and
they feel like I could dive into them, and lose myself forever.
“Get on your knees,” I tell her, and without so much as a bat of her
eyelids, she obeys. Her hand slipping out of my trousers and down the back
of my leg as she sits back on her heels. Her other hand presses to my
stomach and when I unbuckle my belt, her breathing audibly speeds up.
I’m so lust drunk over her that I have to take a moment to gather myself
before I unbutton my trousers, the whir of the zip almost lost in her heavy
breaths.
Cassie looks up at me, her eyes half-lidded as I pull my cock out of my
boxers and let it bob heavily between us. The tip ghosting her lips, as she
rolls them between her teeth.
“Open your mouth.”
Gasping when I tap her lips with my dick, her hands wrap around my
ankles, and as she rises on her haunches, she takes me into her mouth. The
flat of her hot tongue runs the length of my shaft and I have to brace myself
on the wall when her throat tightens around my head.
I’ve had her pussy and arse, but this, this is new. And the way she
measures her strokes is so fucking perfect that I have no idea how I’m
going to last long enough to make her promise and swear all those things all
over again.
Reaching down with one hand, I cup her hollowed cheek as I thrust
deep into her mouth. Her eyes tear up with a gag as her hands tighten
around my ankles.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
That’s all I can think as her big eyes bore into mine, so fucking bright
that she might actually have sunshine in them.
“Who do you belong to, Buttercup?” I ask, pulling out of her mouth
long enough for her to hoarsely reply, “You.”
“That’s right.” Pushing back in, I swipe away her spit and my pre-cum
from the edge of her mouth. Her eyes glisten as I pull out a little with a
groan, and when I drive back in, hitting the back of her throat bluntly, dark,
mascara stained tears race down her face. The black tracks a stark contrast
to her creamy skin.
“Are you going to walk away again?”
Shaking her head, she chokes, her face flushing as her eyes widen and
when I try to pull back, she sucks hard, her nails biting into my Achilles
tendon.
I fuck her mouth in shallow strokes to the sound of her breathy moans
and the feel of her nails raking up my calves. And fuck, fuck…fuck! I can’t
stop myself from pressing deeper until she closes around me, and my cum
spurts down her throat.
Our ragged breathing fills the room as I inch out of her mouth, the tip of
her tongue trailing my slit as she falls back on her heels. Taking my fill of
how she looks kneeling at my feet, dishevelled, with my cum drying on her
lips, I lean down and pull her up. Swiftly I guide her back to the desk,
where I sit her.
“Spread your legs.” Barely holding on to my composure, I pull her legs
apart, raising the thin material of her dress up her thighs until her drenched
underwear is on show. The barely there, translucent lace does nothing to
hide her pussy.
 Mouth-watering, I trail my hands up her rounded thighs to the fleshy
globes of her arse…I fucking love it. More than a handful and juicy as fuck.
My blood drains all the way down south to my sated cock as I run my
finger over her wet knickers to the rasp of her soft moan. Drumming hard in
my chest, my heart is already working extra hard to make up for the state of
my dick. Aching for her again, to get inside her.
Pulling her underwear over her arse, I meet her gaze, and all I can see is
needy desperation. Pure want. I drag the scrap of lace down her legs,
carefully ridding her of it.
I should get them framed so she remembers all the promises she made
today.
Shoving them into one of my pockets, I take her hand and guide it to her
bare pussy. It’s glistening with her arousal and all I want to do is lick every
damn drop. Drink it all up.
Pressing a kiss to her gaping lips, I part her legs as wide as they can…
nipping and sucking down her throat to the crook of her neck. I urge her
fingers down to her slit, dragging them back up to her clit as I suck her soft
skin into my mouth.
Her body shudders against mine, her pulse thrumming on my tongue as
I lick down to her collarbone, guiding her fingers down to her clenching
entrance and pressing one inside with my own.
“I’m going to watch you fuck your tight cunt with those pretty little
fingers, until you come for me, and then if you’re lucky, I may lick it all
clean.”
Stomach muscles clenching and heart violently ramming my ribcage, I
take a step back, slipping my finger out of her pussy to a drawn-out groan.
Unbuttoning the top few buttons of her dress, I’m rapt by the flush on her
cheeks and light in her eyes.
It’s late, the room is filling with pink neon tinged light and although I’m
well aware of where we are, all I want to do is bite and suck every inch of
her body until she’s screaming my name and begging me not to leave her.
Reaching back, I pull a chair over, and as I slip down her body onto it, I
nip down the swell of her breasts. My saliva soaking into the lace of her
bra.
“I said, fuck that cunt!”
A breathy mewl bursts from her lips as I slap down on her clit before
resting her feet on the arms of my chair. My cock aches and leaks at the
sight of her perfect pussy, her fingers glistening as they run through her
gorged lips.
“Leo…” she moans as I kiss her knee and stroke my stubbled cheek up
her thigh. She likes that, and when I reach the thick, fleshy inside and bite
down, she thrusts two fingers deep with a breathy groan. “Fuck!”
God, I want to bat her hand away and pull her down onto my cock, so
deep that she can’t help but cry.

I’m on fire as I watch Leo stroking himself over and over. My fingers
trail up and down my pussy, pressing inside with his every bite and kiss of
my thighs.
The way he watches me hungrily has me unable to look away or close
my eyes. His intensity is hypnotic and God, the way he fists his length is
making me squirm.
Barely able to hold myself up as pleasure starts to flame deep inside me,
I shift closer to the edge of the desk, dragging the hand I’m bracing on and
curling my fingers around the thick wood.
Our heavy breathing fills the room around us, with the heavy pounding
of my pulse through my veins. I’m trembling with the heat blazing inside…
“That’s it, baby, make yourself come for me.”
For him.
My pussy clenches around my fingers and when I press my thumb to
my clit my toes curl in my shoes.
“Faster.” He orders, the sound of his strokes as he fists his dick setting
the tempo of my own.
 I’m engulfed by heat from head to toe, my thighs shaking with the need
to let go. And still, I’m mesmerised by how beautiful he looks with his thick
lips gaping and his chest heaving with every one of our synced strokes.
I can still taste him, but the way his tip glistens makes me want more. I
want to taste him again.
His thumb rounds his tip, mine circling, rubbing and pressing harder to
my clit until I can’t take it anymore.
“Oh, my fucking God. Oh God…”
“Don’t fucking stop,” he grits huskily as my orgasm simmers from the
depths of me.
I’m so fucking close, so close.
“Leo,” my jagged cry is muffled by the way my throat is swelling with
the pleasure zapping through me.
Pulling my fingers out, I add another as I thrust them back in. Once,
twice and just as I’m about to go off, he lunges at me. His hand smacks my
hand away before he grasps my thighs and his mouth latches onto me.
Pressing me airtight to his lips, he fucks me with his eager tongue. Until
I come, shaking as his moans vibrate through me with my orgasm, and I
can’t hold myself up anymore.
I collapse back onto the desk, still grinding into his face as he works me
until I’m boneless.
“Good little girl,” he hums, pinching one of my nipples as he pulls me
onto his lap. “You’ve coated my face.”
God, I can’t take the way he’s rolling my nipple between his fingers.
Pure fucking torture—it almost feels like too much.
“I’m going to fuck you now, so you can coat my cock too.”
Positioning himself at my entrance he fills me slowly. I fail to catch my
breath because that intensely caring look he has in his eyes as he strokes my
hair from my face is making me feel giddier and hotter than my orgasm.
“You’re so incredibly beautiful, Cass. I don’t know how the fuck you’re
real.” He breathes into my mouth, his eyes flitting between mine like he’s
overwhelmed. Like he’s won some prize he never saw coming.
I don’t understand it.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” My words are garbled by his
soft, pulsing thrusts.
With a gentle caress, he pushes one side of my dress over my shoulder,
taking the strap of my bra with it he presses a kiss to my shoulder, and all I
want is for him to mark me again.
Tilting me back he leans over me, his lips graze my nipple as he kisses
his way up to my throat, when he gets to the small swell of my boob, he
sucks my flesh into his mouth and bites at the same time. He does this again
and again until my skin is burning. Until I’m clenching around him so tight
that it hurts.
Looking up at me, a soft, wet smile curls his lips. And following his line
of sight, my entire being heats as I take in the small red, purpling marks
he’s left on my breast, and it makes me feel all sorts of right and whole.
I like having proof that he’s touched me, that he’s loved me. Leo is
something so beyond me that half of the time I can’t believe he’s here with
me.
Searching my face, his small quirk of a smile straightens as he pulls me
flush to his chest. My breath pushes out of me as he sinks so deep all I feel
is him.
“I’m looking at you like glue.” He murmurs. “I’m going to stick to you
for life. Forever, Buttercup.”
Forever.
“Forever,” I repeat. “And ever.”
“And ever.”
He thrusts deep as his lips crush mine and he doesn’t stop kissing me
until we’re both chasing our release. Until the air around us is so hot and
thick that all we can do is look at one another as sweat coats our skin and
our limbs tremble.
When we are sated and his arms are wrapped around me as I feel his
heart beat beneath my hands, he whispers, “I love you, Little Queen.”
“I love you, Neat Freak.” I mumble into his chest and the rumble of his
soft laugh makes me smile.

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 Chapter 33

LEO

P ouring me another finger of vodka, Christopher flips over the

newspapers stacked on the coffee table. “You need to chill.
Everything is going according to plan.”
“Easier said than done.”
He sits on the other end of the sofa; the lounge is so big that the extra-
long seat allows for him to put his feet up without coming anywhere near
me. “Honestly, if you look a worried mess, the press are going to eat you
alive tonight.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t go.” That thought’s been plaguing me all day. I
can’t trust that nothing will go wrong, and I’ve only just got Cassie back…
the last week has been havoc with the press constantly outside my
apartment or the house. They’re everywhere. My saving grace has been
having Cassie with me.
“You need to. Nothing will convince people of your innocence more,
than showing your face to a charity gala and donating a healthy cheque.
And Cassie is right, with her next to you, people will only want to know
about the two of you rather than what the press has been saying for the last
week. Not to mention you have the Deputy Prime Minister’s daughter close
by.” Shrugging he throws back what’s left of his drink. “You’d be stupid not
to attend.”
He’s right. Of course, he is. This is everything he’s been prepared for.
This whole life of charming smiles and held back words. It’s everything I
hate about the circles we run in and have done everything to avoid.
 “No one’s going to give a fuck about you when Cassie steps out of the
car. You learn really quickly to smile and zone out. Hold their hand, help
with their dress and make sure you don’t let them fall. That’s the only thing
you need to be thinking about.”
Slugging back my own drink, I savour the smooth burn as it trickles
down my throat to my stomach. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I try to
steady the tightness in my chest.
“Arabella says you’ve closed on the townhouse down the road?” I try
and make some sort of small talk with him to take my mind off what’s
about to happen.
“Yeah, the place is a tip though. It was closed up for almost a decade, so
it needs some work.”
“Some work? Bella showed me the photos.”
“Okay, short of tearing it down and rebuilding, yeah.” Christopher
laughs, he looks genuinely happy and I can’t help but smile because I feel it
too. I’ve been bobbing along for so long that I didn’t quite realise what
happiness was until Cassie. She has a way of making everything better and
worthwhile.
“The builders are going in tomorrow, they think it’ll take them a few
months to have it done, but with the wedding and everything that’s going
on, it works out. Bella’s been stressed enough; I think it’s a relief that the
house will only be ready after the baby is here.”
“So, basically, what you’re saying is that you’re glad that you’ll have
your mother around to fuss over the child.”
The smile on his face is guilty as sin obvious. “She’s going to need
someone to fuss over. I can’t see Cassie staying here much longer. Can
you?”
“We haven’t spoken about it, I mean, she’s got a fuck tonne on her plate
with graduation and then her Masters.”
“And you haven’t thought about it?”
Yeah, I have. Non-stop when she’s not with me and every time I have to
say goodbye.
“All I’m saying is that…Fuck, I don’t even know. She’s my sister. I’m
trying to figure out what the deal is because you two don’t give much
away.”
“Do I want her to move in with me? Yes. Am I going to rush her? No.
When she’s ready to talk about it, we will, and we’ll go from there.”
Grabbing the bottle off the table I top up our glasses. “Don’t you have
enough to be worrying about? You haven’t even got a name for your child.”
“We would do, except Bella keeps changing the damn list every fucking
day! Seriously, naming a child is hard work. This whole fucking baby thing
is hard work, actually.” Rubbing his face like just the thought exhausts him,
he takes a drink. “I think she’s a fan of Livia and Florence, but last night
she was rattling on about Elsie and Ophelia.”
“Ophelia? Really? Florence?”
“You know how much she loves Shakespeare and Florence and the
Machines.”
“Still, you don’t have to name your child after them.”
My eyes drift to the door at the familiar trill of Cassie’s laugh and
Arabella’s voice.
“These fucking Spanx were a bad idea. Maternity my arse, seriously,
things are already tight in there as it is!” Arabella continues on her tirade as
Cassie walks through the lounge double doors laughing.
“Jesus, she’s so much more chilled when she can drink.” Christopher
groans as we stand from the sofa, but I can’t even make sense of what he’s
saying because I’m struggling to breathe.
Cassie looks magnificent in her white grey ball gown; her long hair is
coiffed back and tousled in thick light blonde waves down her back. She
looks like a white queen.
“Hey, Neat Freak.” She’s beaming as she wanders over to meet me half
way and I’m completely mesmerised.
The light catches on the gauzy tulle that’s studded with glitter like
crystals. The tight bodice showing off her tiny waist pushes her breasts
together…fuck me, isn’t that a sight?
Lacy tulle straps drape around her shoulders, covering up the fading
bites I left on her breast. They give her this regal air that’s accentuated by
the diamond filigree choker around her neck. The column of her throat
looks so elegant that I almost forgive the damn thing for covering up my
mark.
“Hey, Buttercup.” Taking her hand, I spin her into me. Pulling her as
tightly to me as her dress will allow. “You look beautiful.”
Blindingly so, with the large glittering nautical star hanging all the way
to the crease of her trussed-up tits.
Fuck, I bet she’ll look exquisite in nothing but that necklace.
 Quirking up into a smile, her coral stained lips are an open invite to
taste her, and as I brush mine on hers, my heart gallops in my chest.
“I thought your mum was coming? Wayne’s out there with the driver…”
“She’s going to meet us there. She likes to slip in without notice.”
Pulling back to look at me again, she cups my face with so much
tenderness I want nothing more than to forget about tonight and melt into
her. “Are you ready?”
“Nope.”
She threads her arm through mine, and with a soft kiss to my jaw she
says, “It’ll be fine. I’ll hold on the whole time.”
“You’re stuck on me.”
“I’m stuck on you.” Leaning closer, her lips right by my ear, she
whispers, “Just think, I’m not wearing anything under this dress.”
My eyes flash to hers and she shrugs looking very pleased with herself.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Nothing,” she mouths, as if I need clarification.
Great, now this can be the longest evening of my life.

THE CAR STOPS right in front of the Whitehall Palace Banqueting House,
and immediately the flashes of the cameras have me cringing.
“It’s not that bad.” Fluffing her hair, Cassie pops her freshly glossed
lips. “And just think…” Leaning down she picks up the hem of her dress
like she’s checking her shoes, but from the way her fingers trail up the
inside of her calf as she looks up at me, I know exactly what she wants me
to think about. “We’ll be home in no time.”
Christopher looks between us with a shrug, like he, too, is reminding me
of our conversation.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe I should ask her rather than wait for her to say something on it?
“Can we make this quick, I really need a pee? I might have an accident
if we stop for too long.” Arabella hoists up the lace bodice of her red ball
gown, squirming in her seat.
With both of their dresses the limo seems half the size and so tight that
it’s stifling.
 “You went before we left.” Christopher takes her small red bag and
steps out as the door is opened by the valet.
“That was a whole twenty minutes ago.” She groans as he reaches in
and helps her out with Wayne already at his side.
They pause long enough in front of the opening so that Cassie and I can
move next to the door.
“Stay close,” I tell her as I slip out.
“Relax.”
The skirt of her dress is so full that the valet has to help manoeuvre it
out of the car and when he does it’s like everything slows down for a
moment. Everything seems to go quiet before it breaks out into complete
and utter chaos. Bright flashes and loud calls even before we make it to the
chaperone.
“Come on, let’s show you off!” Turning to me with a laugh, Cassie
fusses with my bowtie, even though I’m pretty certain it’s as straight as it
can be. The entire time all I can do is look around, my hands hold her waist
so tight that I don’t know how she’s not wincing.
“We can go now,” the chaperone says, bending over to straighten up the
back of Cassie’s dress. “If you could just make sure that no one steps on the
dress, it might not be a bad idea to pick it up once the photos are done.”
Everything is going exactly how Christopher predicted. None of the
focus is on me, it’s all on Cassie. It’s such a relief that as we follow
Christopher and Arabella down the red carpet, I feel myself relax a little.
Not enough to zone out, but enough that I don’t feel like my chest is about
to crumple.
A few guests smile our way; people I recognise as Fairfax Capital
clients. They’re looking at me with a million questions, and although this is
exactly what we wanted, I’m still dreading the money talk I’m about to be
the centre of. Poaching business from my grandfather isn’t something I
want to do but needs must.
“Smile,” Cassie whispers into my ear. Her lips graze my cheek and then
she adds, “It’s the least you can do before you take their money.”
“I’ll be making it for them.”
“They’ll have to give it to you first.”
She’s smiling the entire time we’re having this back and forth. Stopping
and posing, she avoids prying questions with a flutter of her lashes and
show of her perfect teeth.
 Meanwhile, I’m trying not to throw her over my shoulder and be done
with all this.
We’re almost on dry land when a reporter I happen to recognise calls
my name.
“Leo!” he calls again. “Mr. Fairfax!”
I can hear the shutter of the cameras around us going. The flashes are
blinding as I turn back to him.
Francis is doing the walk with Penelope. Freddie is following behind
them.
“What do you have to say about the ongoing investigation into Fairfax
Capital?” he shouts over the hum of the other reporters. “Is it true that you
are being investigated by the FSA for wrongful conduct?”
Wayne steps to us out of nowhere and stands to the side, ready to step in
if needed.
I look to Cassie, she’s still smiling, but I can tell that there’s tension
behind it. Coiling her arm tighter around mine she comes closer, her front
tucking to my side as she rests her head on my shoulder and her other hand
comes up to squeeze my other shoulder before slipping down to my waist.
The reporter’s eyes widen as he takes us in and just as I’m about to no
comment him, he asks, “How long have you been together?”
“A while,” she smiles looking up at me from under her thick lashes. “Do
you know?” she asks me and then turns to the reporter. “He had his sights
on me for a while.”
The grown-up man in front of her audibly melts at her drawn out, stars-
in-her-eyes sigh. “Really?”
“It’s true.”
“So, do you?” My heart hammers in my chest as he directs the question
at me. “Do you know?”
“Oh, come on…” Cupping my cheek, she sucks her lip into her mouth
as her eyes trail mine. “It’s not really something I expect him to know.”
I do know. I’ve got every single date engraved in my memories.
“July twenty-eighth.” Her smile falters in confusion. “The Prime
Minister’s Garden party.”
“Wow, seems like a very long time to keep things so quiet.”
“That was the first time, I really noticed Cassandra.” Sliding her hand
down my neck to my shoulder, her breath hitches like she’s having trouble
composing herself. “January eleventh, that was the first time we actually
spoke.”
I could go on, but he doesn’t need to know all the details. If she really
wants to know, I can list all the dates she asks for.
“We should head inside.” I say, taking a step back to pick up the train of
her dress, and as I turn us towards the open doors the reporter says, “Good
to see you both.”
I nod back at him and carry on walking until we’ve disappeared into the
crowd of attendees waiting to be shown to their seats.
Cassie stops abruptly and turns to stand right in front of me. “The first
time you kissed me?”
“Sixteenth February.”
“First time you saw me.”
“The Spring Festival, twenty-fourth March last year.”
“Not the first time you saw me at a party, Leo, the first time you wanted
me.”
“Nineteenth September, you were running around the garden with Fleur
and all I could think was how beautiful you were and try to understand how
you could smile and laugh even when you looked so sad.”
“My grandad had just died.” Her eyes pink with tears that never come.
“Fleur spent all her time trying to make me laugh at every opportunity.”
“I like her.” Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her into my chest,
right where she belongs.

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 Chapter 34

CASSANDRA

L eo pulls me closer to him as we dance. His hands are wrapped tight

around my waist and with the bulk of my skirt my arms are
wrapped just as tight around his chest.
Humming along to Cannonball as he sways me gently, it’s so peaceful
that with my head like this on his strong shoulder, we feel like any other
couple. The weight and gravity of everything surrounding us fades into the
background with all the prying eyes and it’s just us. Me and him. Cassie and
Leo.
His lips meet the curve of my neck and I can feel his kiss even over the
expensive jewellery between our skin.
I could wear his kisses like a necklace every second of every day.
“Shall we go home?” he asks softly.
“One more dance.”
I love the way he brushes his fingers through the ends of my hair as we
move around the dancefloor. And the way our feet knock together when we
step to the music.
Our chests press to one another as we inhale in sync. I love this. The
normalcy and public intimacy.
We sway and twirl in unison to the music and when it ends, he leans to
kiss my forehead. He brushes his fingers through the lengths of my hair and
gosh, I feel like the most special person in the whole room.
Leo makes me feel like the North star. So bright. Important.
 “I really do think it’s time to get under this dress,” he murmurs into my
ear before taking my hand and walking me off the dancefloor.
Some of the men he was talking to earlier try to stop us, but he hands
them his card and guides us towards our table.
“Are you guys going already?” Looking fed up, Arabella asks with hope
tinging her voice.
“Yep.” Leo answers for us both.
“I need to talk to you before you go.” Christopher says, nodding to
where Casper is standing at the bar with Laura.
Her eyes narrow on me before flitting to Leo, and something about the
way she smiles makes me want to bitch slap the crap out of her.
“Toilet?” Arabella gives me big Puss in Boots eyes before looking over
at Laura and giving her a scowl. “He better not fuck the bitch or I’ll disown
him for good.”
“Who’s fucking who?” Fleur flops onto one of the seats with a tired
sigh. “I need to talk about something other than how cute you and Leonidas
are.”
“Leo.” I correct her.
“Same thing.” Shrugging she turns to follow Arabella’s gaze. “I’ll be
right back,” she says, sounding distant as she gets up and gives me a hug.
“If I don’t see you before you go, we’re doing brunch at Charlie’s
tomorrow. It’s going to be a pancake stack kinda day.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. You know how it is. Same shit, different day.” Squeezing me
tight, she sighs before she says goodbye to everyone else. I don’t miss the
way she stops by my parents’ table and sits with my mum.
“I swear to all that’s holy, my mother will kill him.”
“Didn’t you want to go to the loo a minute ago?” I ask Arabella as she
sits back into her chair, her eyes threateningly narrowed at her brother.
“Nope.”
“Bells, he’s a grown boy.” Christopher squeezes her shoulders.
“I couldn’t give two flying shits! That girl gets around so much she
leaves a snail trail behind her.”
“Jesus, Arabella!” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Christopher groans
dipping to kiss the top of her head before heading towards Casper.
“I won’t be long,” Leo says, kissing the tip of my nose. And before he
can take a step back, I press a hard kiss to his ear and whisper, “I want you
to take me home so we can make another date out of tonight.”
Walking towards the other guys, he looks back at me a couple of times
with a smile on his face, and all the while I can’t think of anything else
other than how fucking tight his arse looks in those tux trousers. His saunter
is sexy as hell, even the way he’s got his hands tucked into his pockets…
Fuck me, I can’t believe that he’s all mine.

WAYNE AND ROSALIND are already waiting for us when we get to the
limo. Christopher has Arabella bundled in his tux jacket, her high heels in
his hand as she wears her flip-flops. Beside him on flats, she looks tiny,
barely reaching his shoulder.
“Everyone ready to call it a night?” Wayne’s already opening the car
door and Rosalind slips inside.
“It’s quiet and we have Murphy with us,” Christopher nods to Arabella’s
state bodyguard before asking her, “Do you still fancy a walk?”
“Yes, please.” Beaming up at him, she pulls his jacket tighter around her
as she leans into his side. “Do you guys want to join us?”
I wait for Leo to decide what to do.
Please, say home.
“You decide, beautiful.”
“Take me home.”
“Done.” Smiling down at me broadly, he wrestles with my dress as he
helps me into the car.
“Don’t forget pancakes at Charlie’s tomorrow,” I tell Arabella before
Leo gets in.
“As if I’d forget about food. Have you seen the size of me?” She’s full
on belly laughing as Christopher wraps his arm around her and they walk in
the direction we eventually drive in.
There’s an odd tightening in my chest as we drive past them. Murphy is
following behind them at a safe distance, and they look so happy. Exactly as
newlyweds should look.
But still, the street is so dark, like the lights are dimmed or something,
when I look out of the back window, they’re still laughing.
“You okay, baby?” Leo asks, tucking me into his side.
 “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think so…” I’m smiling, but I don’t feel like I should be and it’s
really disconcerting because I have everything to smile about right now.
“Mum’s coming up tomorrow. Why don’t you both come for dinner?”
“What are you going to tell her about Kit?” Leo asks, his voice the
hardest I’ve heard all day. I didn’t realise that he was upset with his mum.
“I don’t know, Leo. What do you suggest I tell her?”
“The truth.”
“And how do I do that? How do I tell her that your brother is dying?”
The wobble of her voice has Wayne pulling her closer, and although she’s
the one on the verge of tears, it’s Leo’s hand I wrap with mine. I squeeze it
tight, hoping that it offers him some comfort or strength, whatever he needs.
“Don’t say that.”
“He’s my son, Wayne, I can feel it. Sometimes you just know.”
Sometimes you just know.
My heart hammers in my chest at her words, and just as I’m about to
ask Leo for my phone, Wayne’s goes off. When he answers his eyes find me
and I know.
I know something is wrong.
“What’s happened?” I ask, my voice dry and brittle.
I’ve never seen this mountain of a man so shaken.
“St. Anne’s. Now.” Shouting behind him at the driver, he grabs his gun
from inside his dinner jacket and while his fury is still evident, he softens as
he helps Rosalind from her seat to the floor of the car. When she’s tucked
between the seats, he strokes her hair. “Don’t move, all right?”
“What the fuck is going on, Wayne?” Leo demands.
“Get on the floor,” he replies, handing his weapon to Leo before pulling
another from under one of the seats. “You don’t get up no matter what. Do
you understand?”
We’ve been through this a thousand times, what to do if we’re attacked,
but still, my mind blanks. I can’t breathe as memories of a gun pressed to
my head surface. The feeling of being so close to death chokes me.
“You’re okay, Cass. They’ll have to get through me to get to you,
beautiful.”
My dress is one big tulle meringue as Leo helps me onto the floor and
God, how I wish I had chosen the sleeker number Fleur had suggested.
 The bodice is too tight. The skirt too big and impractical. The choker
around my neck feels like another vice constricting me.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my lungs setting like concrete in my chest.
“There’s been an attack.” Wayne focuses on the rear window, his
weapon at the ready.
He’s in the zone. I don’t know what zone it is, but it’s the one that
makes him look mean and at least a hundred times bigger.
The car jostles at the same time as four loud cracks sound in the
distance. Wayne dives over Rosalind at the same time as the car comes to a
jarring stop.
It’s so quiet. So dark.
My blood is rushing in my ears with Leo’s rapid breaths. I can’t see
anything, absolutely nothing.
“STAY DOWN!” Wayne starts to get up, but all of a sudden, the car fills
with blinding light and he topples.
Tumbling and rolling like suddenly gravity has gone and everything is
spinning. Except it isn’t. There’s so much grating noise. Leo’s shouting and
I can’t make sense of any of it. I have no idea what he’s saying because
everything except the loud crashing and my whooshing blood is muted.
His arms wrap tightly around me as one side of the car folds on itself.
Glass shatters in on us. Metal crunches and shots go off in every possible
direction.
I can’t breathe.
There’s only darkness. Pitch black lit up by sparks. So many sparks that
I begin to warm from my head to my toes and all I can do is close my eyes.
It’s so quiet.
So warm.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 35

LEO

M y ears are ringing; I can’t tell if we’ve finally stopped or

whether it’s my wishful thinking. The only thing I’m sure of
is that we’re in trouble.
Trapped in the mangled limo with gunfire spattering the bulletproof
metal and glass that hasn’t already been wrecked.
I have no idea how much longer this scrap is going to hold. Cassie is
huddled beneath me, trembling. I can only see Wayne’s bloodied hand
stretched beside us. His Glock loosely clutched in it.
It’s obvious from his grip that he’s out. He’s too still when he would
normally be jumping into action.
“Leo?” Mum rolls Wayne onto his side, getting out from under him.
There’s barely a scratch on her. It’s like she wasn’t in the car with us with
how perfect she still looks. Her shock is rattling her body as she looks at the
ground beneath me.
“He’s coming.” She trembles. “He’s coming…he’s coming…”
I fucking hope Francis gets here soon because I have no idea how the
fuck we’re getting out of this.
“Cass?” I whisper between us, trying to make sure she’s doing all right.
I tried to break all the knocks and impacts, but her dress makes it
impossible to get close enough to bundle her up properly. “Cassie?”
Finding her face beneath all the tangled hair, my thundering heart falters
at the sight of blood marring it. She’s so pale that her skin is glowing in the
dark. Her hair is peppered with shattered glass. There’s a cut right across
the bridge of her nose and down one side of her mouth, from the corner of
her top lip to the bottom one.
I need to get her out of here. I need to get her to safety. But right now,
this is the only shield we have. This is safety.
Edging us both down the body of the limo, so that Wayne’s bulk is
shielding her from the left side, I roll her onto her right side.
“Buttercup?”
I look over her face as her eyes flicker open and grab the semi-
automatic Wayne handed me earlier. I need my phone. I know it’s in the
inside pocket of my tux jacket, but my hand is shaking so much that I can’t
seem to find it.
“Leo…” she whispers. Her voice so faint and croaky, like when she
wakes up.
Digging deeper into my pocket, I pull out my phone. The screen lights
up and there are so many notifications I can’t unlock the damn thing
without opening every other cunting message. My thumb hits one of the
missed calls and before I can get it to my ear, Casper’s picking up.
“Where the fuck are you?” he shouts down the line.
“I don’t know,” I rush as quietly as I can with my uneven breaths.
Peering out of the closest window, I try to make out any landmarks,
“Waterloo Bridge. We’ve been t-boned. We’re in the middle, surrounded.
Wayne’s out.”
“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! We’ll be right there. Don’t move. Don’t get out of
that motherfucking car, Fairfax.”
“What’s happening?”
“War.” That’s the only thing he says before he puts the phone down.
War.
I’ve been waiting for it. I’ve been ready, but tonight, I let my guard
down. I fucked up.
We’ve been working on this plan since the rave. Carefully putting
everything together so that it played our way.
It hasn’t.
“She’s bleeding,” Mum kneels between Cassie and Wayne and her
hands run over the crimson-soaked bodice of Cassie’s dress.
Knocking her hands away, I trace the sopping fabric until my finger
finds the source.
“She’s been hit.”
 Shit. Shit, shit, shit!
“What? That’s imp—” She cuts off and when I look up at her, following
her gaze, I want to vomit. “It was an accident, Leo.”
Fuck!
“Wayne would never hurt her. So much was going on…”
I know, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to take his gun and use it on
him. Fault isn’t something I can accurately gauge right now. Maybe I
should’ve shielded her better.
“Focus,” Mum grasps my face in her hands, like she used to when I was
a child and couldn’t rein my temper in. “We need to help her.”
I do exactly as she tells me to. I focus on the only important thing right
now…my Little Queen.
“Cassie, I need you to stay awake. Okay?”
Smiling, she blinks up at me, blood coating her teeth. I have no idea if
it’s from her lip or worse.
“Okay, we need to plug…” Mum looks around us, but there’s nothing.
Cassie’s blood is pooling on the carpeted floor of the car and she’s so
cold and pale. Ghostly.
“Give me your vest.” Pressing her hands to Cassie’s chest she says, “We
need to stop inviting you to dinner…”
They both chuckle lightly, and God, I need her to be okay. Cassie is my
existence, without her there is no me worth being.
“You are not allowed to close those eyes, you hear me?”
“It’s okay,” she sputters. “I’m okay, Neat Freak.”
She’s well aware she’s not, I can see the panic in her eyes as I manage
to rip off my jacket and then the vest. Wadding it in my hand, I press it to
the side of her chest.
“Not too hard,” Mum eases the pressure I’m putting on it. “We don’t
want to do any more damage. She needs to breathe.”
“I don’t know where the bullet came from. I was on top…”
“It doesn’t matter right now.”
Mum’s right, I just need her to be okay.
But Cassie doesn’t look okay.
Let her be okay, please. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll give her up. I’ll do
anything, please don’t let her die. I pray silently to anything and anyone that
might listen.
“Please don’t do this to me. Please, Cass.”
 Her eyes are blinking and rolling, her lips are trembling because she’s
scared. I’m fucking petrified of what’s happening to her.
“You do not get to do this. You don’t get to leave me!” My voice is
strangled and cut through with tears I didn’t even realise I was crying.
Her hand wraps loosely around my wrist. And I press a little more on
the wound.
“I don’t want to die.” She says, with her eyes closed. Her tongue licks at
her lips and all it does is smear the blood.
I want to shout at her for saying the word I’ve skipped over, skimmed
across and skirted the last God only knows how long.
“No one is dying.” Mum grits, brushing Cassie’s hair from her face with
one hand as her other cups Wayne’s face. “He’s coming, and it’s going to be
okay.”
“Open your eyes, Cass.”
She lifts her lids enough that I can see a little of the brown I love so
much. Her lips quirk and I swear she sighs like she’s enjoying my pain.
The quiet is still like the dead of night, but I know they’re waiting for us
to come out. I can feel their thirst for our blood. It mingles with my own
hunger for retaliation, and I am completely overwhelmed by it. I’m stuck
between doing the right thing and tearing out of this cage.
“Press.” Taking Mum’s hand from Cassie’s hair, I lay it over my vest
and press it down before I pull my bowtie from around my neck and throw
it to the side.
“What are you doing?”
I grab Wayne’s Glock and put it in her other hand, tightening her grip on
it. “You don’t leave them. Stay down, press…keep her alive for me, okay?”
“Don’t you dare go out there!” she barks at me when I start to drag
myself towards the back bench. The doors are bent and mangled, and as I
look through the cracked glass, I see them.
“We need to get out of here.” They’re dousing the outside of the car in
petrol. I can smell it as it runs down the cracked windows. “We need to get
them out.”
Looking out of the other window, my anger boils over. I recognise those
voices as if they are my own.
“I said light the damn car, boy!” A familiar hand reaches towards Jack
with the silver lighter my nan gave him last Christmas.
A token of her gratitude for looking after her boys.
 All this time I thought he was a good man. That he was everything my
father should have been. I never understood why or how an apple could’ve
fallen so far from a tree. Turns out it didn’t.
The one person I have trusted my entire life without doubt or hesitation.
My grandfather.
“But…” Jack looks down at the window I’m looking out of and for a
moment the sorry look on his face makes me question all the things I ever
thought of him.
“But what?”
Jack continues looking down at the blackout glass, like he knows I can
see him.
“Leo?” Mum rasps at me when I force the door open. “Don’t!”
I look from her to Wayne and then Cassie, and I know that I have one of
two choices here. I can either hide and risk everything, or I can face the
devil and buy time until the others get here.
“Don’t leave them,” I instruct her. “Keep her alive and safe.”
“Don’t be foolish.”
I can’t be anything but foolish when it comes to Cassie. To this. To
keeping her alive.
Stepping out of the car, gasoline soaks through my trousers as it drips
from the roof, coating my bloodstained hands, burning as it seeps into the
cuts and grazes.
My eyes dart up to find two of my grandfather’s security men aiming
their weapons at me.
“You,” I spit, tears burning my eyes, as I recall every conversation
we’ve had over the last eighteen months. Every little crumb of information I
fed him, thinking that he was on our side. One of the good guys.
I told him Kit had found the transactions. I told him about the party and
the priest. I told him everything thinking that he was an innocent in all this.
He knew where to get to Cassie because of me.
“I trusted you.”
“Trust is for the weak.”
“Love will always lead to loss.” I utter the words he’s told me time and
again throughout my life.
“Never be afraid to lose.” He finishes.
I finally truly understand what those words mean. I always thought that
there was some deeper elemental meaning to what he was telling me. Like
maybe he thought I needed the reassurance that love is something worth
losing everything for.
Loving my mother would always be worth losing my father’s affection.
Loving Cassie would be worth losing everything I worked so hard for.
That’s not what he meant at all. It’s not love, or trust, or family, or any
of those things that he thinks are worth losing over. It’s the money. The
status.
“The trouble with you millennials is that you all think the world
operates on an even keel.” He takes in a deep breath and then exhales, “It
doesn’t.”
He’s right and I’m done with pretty, useless stories and ideals.
I want blood. I want it to pour from the heavens and flood every path
I’ve ever tread. I want it to drown every naive feeling I’ve ever housed for
this man and his lies.
“In this world you have to do what it takes to get what you want and
keep it.” His voice is so soft, just like when he used to sit me on his knee
and tell me a story.
“You’re right.” I say, looking down at my hands.
I rub my fingertips together and then sweep them over my palms,
massaging Cassie’s blood into my skin until it’s dried and pasted into my
fingerprints and pores.
My hands are sticky with it as I stroke them down my face, the residue
of the petrol stings at the cuts. Running them down my neck and then my
sides, I reach behind me to the weapon I tucked into my belt earlier. My
shirttails conceal it and just as I’m about to grasp it, Jack steps closer.
“I wouldn’t do that.” He flicks the lighter on right next to me.
“After all he’s done, do you think he’s going to keep you?” I know
antagonising him is a really stupid idea, but I’m buying time. “He’ll dispose
of you like he tried to with Kit. Like he’s going to with me.”
Then it occurs to me, “Why did you pitch us against one another? Why
send me after Sinclair Security?”
It doesn’t make sense. Why would he want them so close?
“Francis was already prying, so I gave him what he wanted. I gave him
your father, he was so busy chasing after a juvenile animosity, that he
overlooked everything else.”
“What? No, I saw all the movements with my own eyes. He did it.”
 “You see, even now…” He laughs dryly. “Do you know why I never let
him take over?”
He’s goading me into something. I don’t know what, because all I have
known of my father since I was eight-years-old, is callousness and pain.
“He can’t handle the pressure. He can’t do what it takes to keep the
legacy going. He is weak.” His words are spat like mucus out of his mouth.
We agree on something.
“And he isn’t?” I jerk my head at Jack.
I’ll kill him yet.
“Maybe, but he’s eager to please and that’s half the trick to getting what
you want.”
The smell of gasoline intensifies as one of the other guys rounds the
limo. He stands beside me tipping a black jerry can over the roof.
My heart that had found some normalcy in its fast percussion, squeezes,
sputters and speeds up at least another three or four beats.
“It’s over now.” Looking at me he signals at Jack with his hand.
Getting closer to the limo, I’m about to say fuck it and go for it solo
when the shrill sound of skidding tyres breaks the silence.
The guy beside me looks away long enough to allow me to reach for the
gun behind my back. He just looks at me before I drop him with a shot to
the knee and a jab to the nose.
His eyes roll to the back of his head in a confused daze. Blood
streaming from his nose as he collapses on his side.
For just the smallest fraction of a second, I can breathe. All this turmoil
and tension that has been building inside me, explodes with only that little
tussle.
Spinning on my heels I aim for the first head, shoulder, chest, any
cunting body part I can get to.
I just need to get us out of here. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.
I don’t want to die.
Those fucking words gut me. Her words.
I swore I’d protect her. I vowed to her and myself that I wouldn’t let any
of this shit touch her.
I’ve failed her.
I’ve failed myself.
My aim finds my grandfather’s head a moment too late. Each of his
security guys has his back and front covered as he glares at the smoking,
blacked-out Jag I recognise from the night Cassie left me.
Like it’s a motherfucking omen, every part of me seizes up with dread.
The chassis is covered in bullet holes, the windscreen appears to be
shattered, barely staying in place.
“Drop it.” Jack says, still threatening with the lighter, his hand
trembling. He’s facing me, but his eyes are flitting everywhere.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you. I’m going to make a sieve out of you.”
“You know, your threats are getting really fucking old, Fairfax.”
Stepping closer, he fists the lighter in his hand.
I’m fighting myself to keep my eyes on his rather than on the hand
fisting the lighter. My blood is burning in my veins like we’re already on
fire and her words replay in my head again and again until my finger is a
hairbreadth away from pulling the trigger.
I don’t want to die.
The quiet around us is so still that the air whistling from the Jag’s tyres
seems loud.
“It didn’t have to come to this.” My grandfather turns to the car with a
sigh.
It almost sounds like he’s sorry, but I know better now.
“It was always going to come to this.” The door of the wrecked Jag
opens and any hope I had of making it out of this. Of a miraculous rescue is
gone.
My grandfather’s face lights up as my father steps out of the car.
“You already took one, I can’t let you take the other.” My father looks
over my shoulder and nods at the same time as the bodyguard aiming at me
stiffens his stance, ready to shoot. “I warned you. I told you not to touch the
Sinclairs. I told you not to get involved in this shit. I warned you it would
crush everything we built.”
Looking between them, trying to understand what’s going on, mine and
my father’s gazes meet, and his abrasive words echo in my ears from the
day my grandfather told him about my deal with Francis—What have you
done? What were you thinking?
At the time I thought he was mad that I’d gone to the Sinclairs. That he
was scared that I was going to bring him down.
All the angry words and slurs Kit and I shared because he was
protecting him. Loyal to a fault when I was the one feeding the devil.
Sustaining his greed.
 “It’s all crumbled. Gone.” My father states, eyes narrowing on my
grandfather as he takes a step forwards. “He’s all that’s left, and I won’t let
you have him. It wasn’t Kit that went to Maxwell, it was me. Maxwell and I
knew what you would do, that’s why he got the priest involved. The things
in those church walls…a place of salvation full of damnation.”
Something clicks, this whole time Father Byrne said he couldn’t tell me
who the source of all the information was. It didn’t make sense that my
father disappeared, it didn’t make sense that Francis wasn’t actively hunting
him down.
“The biggest mistake you made was taking Maxwell down.”
“He had it coming.”
“Now, they’re here for you.” I glance over my shoulder as the goon
aiming towards the car starts firing like he has bullets to spare.
Francis’ quiet Tesla has hardly stopped when smoke grenades fly
through the air, there’s more shooting and all I see is the flicker of the
lighter.
I drop the Glock still in my hand and bat the flame away as hard as I
can. The adrenaline doesn’t allow me to register the burn until the flames
catch my eyes. Slapping my hand back and forth on Jack’s dark jacket, I
grab his collar with the other.
I can feel the sting on my skin, it’s minor, it doesn’t hurt and with the
smoke I can’t really assess the damage. All I can do is jam my first into
every plane and curve of my cousin’s face. I keep going and going until I’m
holding him up, against the rail of the bridge.
He’s so pathetic that he doesn’t even try to defend himself. He puts up
no fight. He simply looks at me with bleary, bloody eyes. Like he knew this
was coming and that resistance is pointless. But then, he’s always been like
this. Talks a good game, even tries to compete, but in the end, he surrenders
like a coward. Because he is a coward.
“You should never have touched her.” Biting between hits, I watch his
blood coat his mouth and dribble down his jaw and neck…and all I see is
her.
How she’s bleeding in that car. How her teeth were too, coated in blood.
How she couldn’t keep her eyes open for me.
She always opens her eyes for me. Those beautiful fucking eyes.
“You are nothing!” I drive my fist into his broken nose. “You’re a
coward.” I rear it back and sock him again. “You do not deserve to touch
her.”
I don’t know who I’m screaming at anymore. Me or him. It’s all just
coming out in loud torrid rants and raves that course the anger inside
through my limbs.
I feel his hot blood spit and splatter onto my face and soak through my
shirt. But it’s not enough.
Jack can’t stand, but he’s still breathing. The coward is still breathing.
Still dragging in each breath for another second on this earth.
And I don’t know if she’s okay. I don’t know if I’ll get to hear her voice
again.
What if all that’s left is me? No Cassie. No Kit. No Wayne. Just me.
I drop him to the ground like the litter he is, and as he lies there, blood
pouring from his face another bout of anger burns through me.
He’s still sputtering.
Why is he still going? Why?
I can’t have that. I can’t live with myself knowing that I let him live. I
don’t care what that makes me. A monster. A criminal. The lowest of the
low. I don’t even give a shit if it paints me with the same stripes as him.
I nudge his chin up with the tip of my shoe and just as I’m about to
crush his windpipe, grind it like a snuffed cigarette under my sole, arms
wrap around my chest and pull me away.
“Don’t do it, son.”
For a moment I think it’s Francis. He likes to call me son. But the voice
is all wrong and he would never stop me from doing what needs to be done.
He would never stop me from taking what belongs to me—retribution.
“I am not your son!” I free myself from his hold. “Nothing has changed.
Nothing!”
He’s looking at me like he expected something different, but nothing
changes all the things he did to my mother. No amount of good deeds or
change in character will appease his past actions.
Scars can’t be erased with remorse. I carry my scars; he can carry his
guilt. If he is capable of feeling it.
Right now, I don’t know whether I can trust my own perception and
judgement.
“Nothing will ever change, but it’s the girl you want. Not him, he’s
nobody. Unimportant.” His body turns to the car wreck and my eyes follow.
 Francis is kicking the limo’s back door, like he’s trying to get it as open
as possible. He looks like a mad man.
Freddie’s pacing with his phone to his ear. He has that cold look on his
face that says he’s out for blood. His anger robes him like a dark cloak, and
for once I don’t question why he’s like that.
My father’s right. It’s her I want out of this. It’s Cassie I need, but that
doesn’t mean Jack gets to make it past tonight.
I pick up the gun I dropped earlier, and before I walk away, I give him
the same fighting chance as my girl.
I watch as the bullet leaves a neat hole by the sleeve of his jacket. No
bigger than my thumb, in exactly the same place as Cassie’s.
Wound for a wound.
Jack’s blue eyes flutter, the whites bloodshot, and I don’t know if it’s
more blood or tears that roll down his temples into his bloodied blonde hair.
I don’t care.
Taking a deep breath, I stride to help Francis. He’s pulling at his hair as
he steps out of the limo through the crack I wedged open earlier. Hands
soaked in blood, he wipes them on his trousers before trying to pry the door
open again.
“We need to get the door open, it’s jammed, I can’t get her out.” His
words are so panicked that it comes out as a strangled yell. “Freddie’s
called for help, but it’s taking too long.”
He beats the heal of his fingers against his forehead like he’s trying to
shake a plan of action from his brain.
“We need to jack the car, if we scrape it open, there’s a chance it’ll
spark.” My father crouches by the back corner of the limo assessing the
situation from a new angle.
He looks at me with a look he’s never given me before. I don’t know if
it’s affection, pride or genuine love, but it makes me want to scream at him
to look away.
I can’t fathom feeling anything other than hate for him. After everything
he’s done…
“We’ll get her out,” he gives me a sorry smile.
Stop! Stop! STOP!
Crouching down by the door, Francis looks up at me and Freddie.
“Fred, put the fucking phone down, we need your help.”
 He looks between us, and then says, “You get in there and you get her
out. Wayne’s stuck, they’re going to have to cut him out.”
“Cassie?” Ducking into the open door, I ask him before I look right
where I left them.
Mum is still pressing the vest to Cassie’s chest, but she’s so pale that she
looks grey and her ashy hair looks yellow.
“We need to get her out quickly.” Mum says, her worry permeating her
words.
“They said not to move her.” Freddie crouches between my father and
Francis, it’s the first time I’ve heard anything resembling panic in his voice.
“She’s barely breathing. I’m getting her out. No more losses tonight.”
Francis grits. “On three, we lift and you get that door as open as it will go.”
No more losses.
“One.” My father says as I get ready to ram the door off its hinges if I
have to. “Two.” He nods to Francis and all three of them anchor their hands
beneath the chassis. “Three.”
There’s a loud keening yell from inside the car at the same time as they
lift, and I slam the door into the side of the car. The hinges wince as they
fold on themselves and before they’ve finished putting the back corner
down, I’m climbing into the car, over Francis and Freddie.
I crawl to Cassie’s side and my chest caves in on itself. Her left hand is
loosely holding my bowtie and the other is firmly clenched in Mum’s.
There’s so much blood, that I’m certain there can’t be much left in her
veins.
“Hey, Buttercup.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I wipe away some of
the blood crusting her nose.
“She’s freezing, Leo,” Mum murmurs, and it’s only then I notice how
dishevelled she looks now compared to when I left her. “I tried to get
Wayne’s jacket for her.”
“Freddie!” Sliding in before I’ve finished calling, his eyes immediately
go to the blood. “I’m going to need you to help me move her without
jostling her too much.”
I grab my tux jacket off Cassie and lay it out above her head.
“What are you doing?”
“We need something we can pull her on. If we pick her up, we might
hurt her more.”
 Nodding, he gently tidies Cassie’s hair, so it doesn’t get in the way of
the jacket.
“Pull on three,” he says as he brings the hem of the jacket down,
tucking it under the curve of her shoulders and neck.
He counts and on three we both yank the jacket under her body. Her
eyes flutter and I’m sure a groan escapes her bloodied lips.
“Quick!” Francis pops his head into the car. “They’re here.”
There are no sirens, no lights, nothing to indicate an accident or
incident.
Freddie and I manage to drag her to the door, a plain white ambulance is
pulling to a stop. Followed by a couple of vans and some other nondescript
cars.
Clean up.
So much happens so quickly, that I can barely take in what’s going on.
Before I know it, we’re driving through the same gates I’ve been through
pretty much every day since Kit got assaulted.
Machines are beeping and whooshing and making all these sounds that
I’ve heard time and again, and somehow never get used to.
They rush her in, and I’m following as fast as I can because I don’t want
to leave her. I don’t want her out of my sight unless I have to, and I do.
They take her straight to theatre and that’s it.
I wait, and I wait. I wait alone and then with Francis. We just wait.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 36

LEO

C hristopher walks into Cassie’s room and everything feels like it

falls silent. He looks at his sister and then at me. We’re both
wearing some white scrubs. He must’ve been covered in blood too.
I haven’t seen him since we said goodbye and shook hands as we left the
party.
It’s been a little over twelve hours since we last saw each other, but it
feels like so much has happened, everything has changed.
Eyes red and swollen, he has the look of an empty man. A man who has
lost everything.
I know that if I were in his shoes, pity would be the last thing I’d want
or need, but I can’t help but give it to him.
Sitting in silence on the other side of Cassie’s bed, he holds his head in
his hands. I’m not sure if there’s something, anything you can say to
someone when something like this happens. So I sit in silence with him.
“How is she?” he asks after a while.
Devoid of anything other than exhaustion, Christopher’s voice is empty.
He sounds how he looks, and I don’t think it fairly represents how he’s
feeling.
“Okay.”
“Good.” He’s not sobbing but his reply sounds strangled and wet like
one.
“Christopher…”
 “I know,” he nods, biting down on his lip as he wipes his nose with the
back of his hand. His eyes are so full of tears and sorrow that they’re
bulging. They’re swollen with hatred and pain. So much loss. “Everyone’s
sorry. I thought I was doing a good thing, making her happy. Bella was so
fed up of being cooped up all the time.”
“She’s going to be okay.” It’s a lie. I’ve been good at telling myself a lot
of those the last twelve hours.
I keep telling myself that same lie every second I’m sat here waiting for
Cassie to open her eyes or just mumble. Rasp. Twitch.
“Is she?” he looks at his sister and wipes at his face again. “My wife is
lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, probably dreaming about a baby she’s
never going to meet. A Livia or a Florence. A little girl she’s never going to
hold. I can think of a million things Arabella is going to be, and okay is not
one of them.”
Squeezing Cassie’s hand, he gets up and I almost miss the wet tracks
sluicing down his face.
I’ve never been this ashamed and disgusted with myself. With my name.
My family.
He doesn’t look back as he heads for the door, but then neither would I.
Weakness is something that we are engrained to hide.
“I am truly sorry.” I tell him.
He pauses for a moment and then says, “Don’t apologise for another
man’s sins, it does nothing.” When he gets to the door he turns and there is
only devastation. “I should have looked after them better.”
Christopher glances down at Cassie and then back at me. “You’re going
to help me find them.”
I nod, because yeah, I am going to find them. I’m going to put a bullet
in every single one of the bastards. Right where they shot my girl. And if he
wants to cut them open, I’ll hand him the blade.
Jack, he was just a taster. A warning to them and bait to the bloodhound
inside me.
I want retribution, and I will take it.
A bullet for a bullet. A wound for a wound.
It’s the Christian thing to do.
“I’m going to gut them. I’m going to rip them open like they did my
wife. One by one, I’ll kill them all just like they murdered my daughter.”
 It’s the first thing anyone has said to me that makes me feel something
other than numb desperation.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it makes me a sick monster. But the idea of
inflicting pain on the bastards that hurt Cassie is the first thing I’ve had to
look forward to.
“Where is he?” He knows I mean Jack, because he’s the only fucker
with any fucking idea of where my grandfather has disappeared to and who
else is involved.
The cunt’s still alive, patched up and awake. While Cassie’s still lying
here, blood crusting her hair and face grazed to shit. She’s not waking up.
“They won’t tell me,” he chuckles bitterly. “But don’t worry, I’ll find
him.”
With one last look at his sister he turns and leaves.

FRANCIS IS SAT in exactly the same chair Christopher was in earlier. His
words are still twisting and turning in my head and it’s making me restless.
It’s been almost ten hours since Cassie came out of surgery. Nothing has
changed.
The thought of retribution brought me hope but watching her like this is
killing me.
“Here,” he says looking up from the bag he has at his feet. Taking out
my MacBook, he hands it to me. “Plan something. For you, for her…for
you both. Give yourself something to look forward to.”
“I already have something to look forward to.” I take my laptop from
him. Setting it on the footstool beside me, I grab my cigarettes.
He’s right I need something to do, and I need something that will blur
my thoughts. My head.
“What’s that?” he asks as I get up and start for the door.
I know he doesn’t mean my cigarettes, but I hold them up so he can see
them. I’m pissed at him and he knows it. He knows that I trusted him
enough to bring down my family’s company because we were working
towards something together.
But clearly, it’s not a mutual trust. Maybe he’s a lot more like my
grandfather than I thought.
 My grandfather, the man I looked up to most of my life. He was my
upgrade from superheroes, he turned out to be the villain.
“Sit down, son.” He nods at the chair I vacated. “You’ll be the first
person she wants to see.”
“I can’t, Francis.” My voice quivers from all the fucked-up shit going
on in my head. “Look at her. I did that. I put her in that bed. Just look at
her!”
Tracing up her banged-up face, I cringe at her swollen nose and puffy
eyes. Still, she looks so peaceful. So fucking beautiful, even like that.
“I do,” he murmurs, taking her in. “I’ve looked at her every day since I
first held her. Cassie was so small, she fit in my hands.” Smiling fondly, he
holds out both hands like he’s still holding his baby girl. “Christopher was a
big, bulky baby, but Cassandra was tiny. She was so small that we lost her
in her clothes. You’d have this tiny head, with wiry white hair and a pea
sized nose with a little duck pout, sticking out of this bundle of babygrow.”
Francis takes a deep breath, looking at her face with the same adoration
I’d imagine him to look at her as a baby. Taking one of her hands, he traces
her white, glitter speckled nails, using his own to try and clean the dried
blood around her cuticles.
“She looks just as lost in that bed right now.” His chest inflates and then
deflates just as quickly. “Cassie’s my little princess. It doesn’t matter how
old and tall she gets, I’ll always see that little baby girl that burrowed into
my arms and suckled on her thumb when she laid on my chest.”
I shake my head because he’s wrong. “She’s not a princess, not to me.”
His lips quirk up with a nod as he pats her hand lightly. “One man’s
princess will always be another man’s queen.” Francis bows his head and
presses a kiss to the back of her hand.
“Why did you let me take her? You knew all this shit, and you still let
me take her.”
He looks up at me with an indignant scowl as he retorts, “I didn’t let
you take her, I let you have her. Cassie let you take her, she chose you, and
she chose well. I think you could do with some of her softness to remind
you that you have it in you. Penny always said she was too soft and too
trusting, but I think she’s just perfect. Maybe a little bratty, but she’s my
baby, so…” sighing, he smiles up at me. It’s the truest smile I’ve seen all
day.
 When I look back at Cassie, my heart pangs in my chest— longing for
her like the moon longs for the light of the sun. Eternally. The force with
which I need her is magnetic and elemental. It feels like something that was
woven into my DNA before she or I existed.
“Lucian isn’t a good man, the things he’s done I’ll never pretend to
understand, or think are forgivable, but he was trying to protect you and Kit.
A man isn’t born a brute—unfeeling and volatile—a man becomes what he
is surrounded with. Fire only burns as bright as you make it. It only grows
in the right environment, but one wrong move and it can destroy.
Something good always has the potential for badness, but evil can never do
anything other than corrupt and devastate.”
“What he did to my mother…” My breath dries in my windpipe and my
throat constricts at the recollection of my mother’s bruised body. “I’ll never
forgive him, and I’ll never let him get close enough to hurt her again.”
“Your mother or you?” he asks. “When Wayne brought you both to the
house, he didn’t say much, just that he needed me to help him, Ros and you
boys. I knew your father, our paths had crossed, and I knew that he had a
temper. We were never friends. I think he avoided me and I him. I always
saw the worst in him because it was the easiest thing to see.”
“He is the worst, the lowest of the low. Nothing has changed, it will
never change.” I take a cigarette from the pack in my hand and put it to my
lips. I squeeze my lips around the filter as a way of plugging all the things I
want to say about Lucian Fairfax.
“I understand that, but you don’t know everything that happened
between them. Lucian was wrong, what he did is inexcusable, but your
mother and Wayne…they were wrong too. Regardless of the
circumstances.”
“Circumstances? He wasn’t a father to me, and he certainly wasn’t a
husband to my mum.”
“He knows forgiveness isn’t something you can give him; I don’t think
it’s something he can gift himself either. However, he wants to do the right
thing by you and Kit. We’ve been talking and it’s time, Leo.”
My teeth bite through the filter of my cigarette and the usual soothe that
comes from the sweetness of the vanilla and cherry is non-existent. It’s all
numbness from the clove, and it’s not enough to tamp down the tearing pain
that burns through my chest.
“No.”
 “We spoke about this, we knew that it was a possibility. Nothing has
changed, it’s not fair to him, and Rosalind and Lucian have made the
decision. It’s time to let go.”
I shake my head, rolling the cigarette between my fingers until I feel it
break apart. “No. I’m not giving up. I’m not giving him up. I can’t...I’m not
letting go of him.” I don’t bother fighting the tears. My pride is
meaningless.
“It’s the right thing to do.” Francis says softly, standing from where he’s
sitting as I fold over the end of Cassie’s bed.
The pain is crippling, and the thought that she isn’t waking up either,
makes it all the worse.
What if he eventually thinks the same about her?
I can’t stop him, just like I can’t stop my parents. I’m powerless when it
comes to the people I love.
I told her I would protect her. I promised Kit I wouldn’t give up.
Francis squeezes my shoulder, and before I know what he’s doing, he
turns me into him and does what a good father would do for his child. He
tries to comfort me. His hands tighten around my shoulders and he looks
me in the eye with a gravely seriousness that makes my inward sobs sputter.
“This is war, Leo. We make sacrifices. We incur unimaginable losses.
It’s up to you to make it mean something.”
“You want to make this mean something?” Taking a step back, I
swallow down the tears and emotions that do nothing but show weakness.
“Tell me where Jack is?”
“I can’t do that.” Shaking his head, he turns back to Cassie.
“Why not?” Penny stands in the doorway, hate rife on her usually kind
face.
I’ve never taken much notice of her looks, but right now, I can see all
the attributes she shares with Cassie.
The hair, the big eyes, and high cheekbones. The softness and kindness
that’s naturally etched onto their faces. Even the faint freckles, although
hers are a little more pronounced. Their noses have the same daintiness, but
Cassie’s is more like Francis’ sharp and regal with the slightest upturn at the
tip.
“Charles is looking for you,” she tells him.
I did wonder when his friend, the Foreign Secretary, would show his
face. Fleur practically lives with the Sinclairs, Penny is like a mother to his
daughter.
“I’ll be back,” Francis tells her, pulling the chair he was sat in closer to
her. “Call me if anything changes.”
Quietly she sits in the chair, her legs crossed and her face stony. I’m
about to sit back down when she says, “Isn’t it sad that to be the bigger
people we have to get trampled on?”
Her blue eyes meet mine, and there’s nothing but ice in them. “My
father was like Francis, always the better man…he’s dead. Grace…” Her
voice breaks at the mention of Fleur’s mum. “What’s the point of being
good when all you get in return is this?” Tears run down her cheeks as she
strokes Cassie’s hand. “I used to believe in keeping your enemies closer
than your friends, but now, I think they should be squashed.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know, but I hope you find out.” Looking up at me, she smiles
sadly. “It won’t make any of this better, but it’ll be a little more bearable
knowing some kind of justice is had.”
I chuckle at her naïveté—so much like her daughter’s. “There’s no such
thing, Penny. Only retribution.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 37

LEO

I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Cassie’s been

lying here for over a week. Her bruises and cuts are beginning
to disappear, she’s healing and all the while my wounds are
getting deeper. Growing. Festering.
I’m pretty sure if you cut me open right now, that I’m rotting from the
inside out.
“Here,” looking up from my MacBook, I find Penny standing in front of
me with a coffee in her hand.
I take it, and although it scorches my mouth, I chug it down like it’s an
elixir for life. Besides, the burning takes away from the pain that has
swallowed me from the moment this nightmare begun.
“Anything new?” she asks me, her voice is gentle and soft, like she’s
scared that the slightest vibration is going to set off the bomb ticking inside
my chest.
Cassie looks so small and every day, I think she disappears a little more.
I can’t let it happen though. I can’t let her go. Never.
Shaking my head in answer to her reply, I look back down at my screen
where the video of our interview is playing again. Her smile, the sound of
her voice…they’re my solace.
Penny sits on the bed and the way she crumples the sheets around
Cassie makes me grit my teeth. I want to demand she gets up and sits on
one of the chairs dotted around the room. I know it’s an unreasonable
thought, I know she has every right to sit where she wants, but I just can’t
stand the way the sheet and blanket pull off Cassie’s chest. The way they
rumple and crease.
Mr. Neat Freak.
The sound of her chuckles fills my head and my eyes burn with angry
tears. My insides are roiling in a sick torturous ache that intensifies the
longer I let the sound of her voice echo around my thoughts.
“You should go home, get some rest. Your mother is worried.”
“I want to be here when she wakes up.” Twirling the ends of Cassie’s
hair around my index finger, I can’t understand why she’s not waking up.
She’s okay. Her organs are okay. The wound on her chest is healing
nicely. Apart from the blood loss, and the nick to her artery she was okay.
Her surgeon said she was fine. There is absolutely no medical reason for her
not to wake up.
Francis walks in with my mother in tow, she looks at Cassie with so
much pity that I want to scream at her. I know what she’s seeing, and I
won’t let her write my beautiful girl off like I know she’s doing to Kit.
“I fed Toby and I’ve got a dog walker to take him out twice a day.”
Murmuring she kisses my cheek before handing me the leather duffel she’s
been running back and forth with changes of clothes. “He misses you
though. He’s whining and I don’t think he moves from the door when I
leave him.”
I miss him too. But just thinking of him, has me thinking of the way he
loves Cassie. Sticking to her like superglue, like she promised she would
stick to me. I miss the way he muzzles his way between us when she pats
the bed, even though he knows that it’s against my rules.
Honestly, I don’t think he’s whining for me at all. I think it’s for her.
He’s waiting for her, like I am.
Silly, silly beast.
“I can’t leave Cassie.”
Nodding solemnly, she breathes in deeply as she takes a step back.
She’s anxious. Penny adjusts herself so she’s facing my mother and Francis
is right in front of me.
Fuck, I know what’s coming. I know it, but I am not prepared for it
when my mother says, “You need to say goodbye.”
It’s stupidly quiet, I have to look around and check the monitors are
working, that Cassie’s chest is still rising and falling. I have to check and
check and check every fucking detail in the room because I just can’t let it
sink in. I’m not ready.
I can’t do this. Not alone.
She would hold my hand. She wouldn’t tell me it’s okay. She wouldn’t
pretend that this was for the best.
Reaching for her hand, I wish so hard that she would squeeze back. That
she would let me know she’s here with me. But she doesn’t.
Please, don’t make me do this on my own. I beg, loosening my grip on
her hand as I slip my middle finger between our palms, scratching hers, she
likes that. She likes scratches and bites and licks and sucks. She likes all
those things and I’ve tried them all. Scratching her palm. Biting her
fingertips. Sucking the heel of her thumb. I’ve licked my tears off the back
of her hands.
Nothing’s bringing my girl back to me, and now they want to take my
brother away too.
“Leo?”
“No.” I tell my mother.
No, they’re not taking him away.
No, she’s not leaving me.
Just no. No to everything and everyone. No.
“Son…” Francis takes a step forwards, his hand out like he’s about to
pin me to the seat until I acquiesce to their plans and decisions.
“I am not your son,” biting back at him, I slap his hand away. My body
is lifting from the chair I’m in and before I know it, I’m standing in the
middle of their triangle.
This whole place is closing in on me and I hate the way they have all
these cables hanging off the walls. I hate the way they leave their carts and
trolleys parked in every fucking corner of the room. I hate that the light
green and cream check pattern on the floor is slightly off, it doesn’t marry
properly. The same drop of blood has been on that same fucking spot, right
by the wheel of Cassie’s bed since I popped the stitch in-between my
knuckles.
I hate this place. I hate them. I hate them all for all the shit they’ve done
and failed to do. For poking and prodding at me to leave her. For cornering
me. For trying to make me say goodbye.
I can’t!
 “I can’t!” My loud roar registers too late. “I can’t do this right now. I
can’t think about this. I can’t give you what you want. I. Can’t. So, just fuck
off. Leave. Get out!”
“Cassie?” I turn as soon as I hear Penny call my Buttercup. “Francis?
Francis, call the nurse!”
“What’s happening?” Stepping around me, he presses the red button on
the wall to call for assistance.
The nurses come, the nurses go, and Cassie still doesn’t open her eyes.

I WATCH her and keep watching for days. I’m on the edge of my seat
waiting for her. For a moment I thought I had her back, for a minuscule
second, I thought she was going to open her eyes and give me one of her
soft smiles.
It feels like we’re back at square one, waiting and waiting. I wish I was
a more patient man. I wish that I was everything that she needs and more.
Really, I wish that it was me lying on that goddamn bed with all the
fucking shit attached to my arms and hands. And sometimes I wish that she
had never come back to me. Maybe she wouldn’t be lying on that fucking
bed.
Rolling my cigarette between my lips, I can’t take my eyes off her smile
on the screen. The way her hand cups my jaw with that fucking soft laugh
she likes to tease me with.
“It’s not really something I expect him to know.”
But I know, I know every fucking date there is to know. The only one I
don’t know is when I fell so in love with this girl that the thought of being
without her is enough to make me wish for death.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I jump at the knock on the door.
“Hey,” striding in, Fleur walks over and dumps her handbag on the floor
by the bed before rearranging the very realistic fake flowers she’s brought
with her. She did the same yesterday, and the day before.
“I brought you something too,” she tells me with a spritely sigh.
I stare between her and the Tupperware container that she holds out to
me. Whatever it is, it’s still warm because the plastic is sweating.
“What’s that?”
 “Food.” Rolling her eyes, she opens the lid and holds the container right
under my nose. “I don’t know what to do for her, but I know she’d be upset
if she knew you weren’t looking after yourself and…seriously, just eat the
fucking food. It’s homemade and it might make you look better.”
“Umm…” Shit, I don’t know what to say or do. Fleur’s acting like
we’re friends or whatever and with everything that’s happened, I don’t
know if I have the capacity to open myself to another person. “Thanks?”
“You’re welcome.” She reaches for her bag and takes another container
out.
I take the plastic picnic cutlery she hands me before she gets one of the
other seats and sits beside me.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” She digs into her pasta. “I know you
like Bolognese, Cass said it’s your favourite, second to shitty McDonalds.”
Shovelling a forkful of meaty pasta into her mouth, she moans like
that’s meant to make me want to eat it any more than I do. “Please eat, I’d
like to know that I managed to do something right by Cassie.”
Nodding, I spear my fork through the starchy strands and shovel them
into my mouth.
“Why would she tell you about what I like to eat? It seems like a bit of a
dud conversation.”
Shaking her head, she laughs so loud that I’m sure if anything is going
to wake my Little Queen up, it’ll be her friend’s raucous laugh.
“Oh man, you are such a boy. Seriously, how can you not see that
everything about you fascinates her? She’s got this silly arse obsession with
you, it’s cute, but still weird. I like it, it makes her a mere lusty mortal like
the rest of us.” Fleur wipes her mouth, licking her teeth clean. Her eyes find
mine and she exhales breathily. “She likes to talk about you, a lot. I’ve
never heard her talk so much, it’s like you’ve unleashed a lifetime’s worth
of words from the moment she saw you.”
I have to take a minute to right myself. My insides are scalding with all
these feelings and needs. Every single one revolving around Cassie.
God, I miss her.
I keep thinking and saying that to myself, and the yearning inside me
keeps growing.
When Kit and I were little, we used to have a Brazilian housekeeper.
She was a quiet and unassuming woman. She always looked sad. One day
Kit asked why. Why was she so down?
 I didn’t think much of her reply then. In fact, to a little boy it seemed
silly, I think it’s only now that I fully understand her.
She used one word—saudade—I’d never heard it before. She explained
that it was impossible for her to tells us why, because there is no word in the
English dictionary that translates to it. She said that it was such a soul deep
yearning, a melancholy and furious nostalgia for something that’s missing
or gone, that there were no other words in the world that could ever really
portray it’s meaning.
That’s exactly how this feels. Every part of me is filled with this
impossible, soul deep need to have my Little Buttercup back. My existence
misses it’s meaning.
“She loves you,” Fleur smiles at me like she knows what I’m thinking.
“It’s sort of funny, isn’t it?” she muses. “She never gave two shits about
guys until you came along, and I hated you a little bit because you took part
of my friend away, but she was happy even with all the crazy…”
“All the crazy?”
She laughs again, dryly, “My father is the Foreign Secretary, do you
think I don’t know about what Francis does? Thin walls are made for
listening through, there are a lot of thin walls in all these secure places.”
There’s a silent pause as she looks around the room.
“You know, I really did hate you at first and I’ve tried to every day since
the accident. But this isn’t your fault. And you love her too, the way every
girl wants to be loved, I think.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and my chest
constricts at her words, because that’s all I ever want to do. I want to love
Cassie with everything I have. “My father said that your grandfather was in
over his head and that he would’ve done anything to get himself out. I guess
it worked, he’s gone and she’s here.”
“He isn’t in over his head, Fleur, he’s just a money drunk fool. And I’m
an even bigger fool, I trusted him…”
“Trust is for the weak,” she murmurs. “It’s what my dad always says.
But I think he’s wrong. It takes a lot of bravery to put your hope and faith in
another person.”
My hands clench around the empty Tupperware container and my
stomach threatens to purge itself with the way it knots.
“Your father says that?”
“All the time, like it’s gospel.” Taking the container from my hands, she
tidies everything up and puts everything away before she gets her laptop
and puts one of her sappy films on. She keeps saying that they’re not for
her, that they’re Cassie’s favourites.
Sappy films for the hopeless romantic, unconscious girl.
Arranging it on the overbed table, she brings her chair closer to mine as
the opening credits for My Girl come on. Her knees tuck into her chest and
she says, “Cassie’s going to be all right. She’s not going to give us up
easily.”
I hope so. I tell myself through my spinning thoughts.
I know that my grandfather’s saying isn’t something exactly unheard of,
but it’s not just coincidence that her father is saying it. I’ve got this feeling
that there’s more, and I don’t know whether Fleur knows it or not, but God
help her if she does.
God help her if she’s another liar. Another person that burns my trust.
“Leo?” she whispers after we’ve sat in silence for most of the movie.
“When she’s back, you’re going to find them, aren’t you? You and the
guys…you’re going to find the people that put her here, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. It’s only fair they face their sins.” Her mouth twists to the side
like she’s trying to hold back tears, but with a blink they dribble down her
cheeks. “She’s crying again.”
I look from her to Cassie and sure enough, a tear rolls down her face.
“I knew that eventually My Girl would get to her.” She says, and then
asks, “Are you going to let me mop them up this time?”
“Nope.”
“God, you’re an arsehole.” She huffs, but there’s a soft smile on her
face.
We both pause at the whine that follows the tears, the precursor to the
silent, hiccupping sobs.
“Do you think she’s having a nightmare?” Fleur looks between Cassie
and I, her face slopped downwards into a frown.
“I hope not.”
“When she wakes up and all this crap is done with, it will all seem like
nothing.”
“When she wakes up, I’m never letting her out of my sight again.”
“That makes two of us.”
Her words are spoken like a promise, and it’s soothing to have someone
that is as desperately needy as I am to have Cassie back. And maybe I’m
wrong, but this girl is too loyal and frank to put on an act of caring.
We sit and watch the rest of the film in silence. I have to hand her some
tissues when Thomas J. dies. We’re almost at the end, when Francis and my
father walk into the room.
They’re giving me the same look. The one that says they’re here for
another round of their reasoning.
The honest truth, as I look at them, is that I don’t know how much
longer I have it in me to fight…alone.

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 Chapter 38

LEO

I can’t go in there.
I’ve been standing outside Kit’s room for the last half hour,
but every time I take one step towards the door, I buckle.
Julian looks up, eyes so fucking puffy and red that they look
bludgeoned. Fuck, just the sight of him makes my body threaten to collapse
on itself.
I can’t do this.
The wobble of his chin sets me off, I see my every nightmare in his
face. Lifting Kit’s hand, he presses it to his face like he’s trying to soak
every little bit of life and warmth left in my brother into his pores.
Holding onto the door, I press inside quietly. I swear half of the
monitors have been switched off, the only sounds are Julian’s sobs and the
whoosh of the life support machine. The carts are all pushed to one side,
against one of the walls. The room feels bigger, like it’s capable of
swallowing everything.
Stopping by the foot of the bed, I stand and watch the rise and fall of
Kit’s chest. I listen to the press and release of the air. It’s such a
monotonous and harsh sound that it wracks every last part of me.
“I didn’t believe it was going to come to this.”
“It doesn’t need to.” I reply, barely able to keep my voice steady.
“Look at him, Leo.” He follows his own instruction to a sputtering sob.
“That’s not Kit anymore. It’s just a body.”
 “It’s his body. Kit’s. It’ll only ever be his body. It hasn’t given up like
you all have.” I hiss at him as I round the side of the bed. “We don’t have to
give up.”
I sit on the edge of the bed, the creases and wrinkles of the bedding the
last worry on my mind.
How am I meant to do this?
“It’s not giving up; it’s doing the right thing.”
“By who? You’re supposed to love him.”
“I do!” Pressing a kiss to the back of Kit’s hand he holds it tighter in
both of his. “You think I want to let him go? I have never wanted to hold on
to anything more than I want to cling to him.”
“Then hold on, please. They’ll do it for you. They’ll keep him alive for
you. You can have him back.” I’m grasping at dry straw.
“Do you believe in miracles, Leo?” His gaze meets mine as he thumbs
the crucifix wrapped around Kit’s wrist. “I’ve been hoping and praying for
one since I got your mother’s call. But look around you. Do you see a God
or an angel or anything that’s going to bring him back? Where is the
fucking miracle I keep begging for?”
We both pause at the sound of the door opening, and when I look back,
the tears I’ve been holding on to so fucking tight, slip down my cheeks.
Casper presses a kiss to the top of Arabella’s head. She looks ghostly in
her pallor and her face has lost some of the roundness and softness it had
gained over the last few months.
“I had to come.” She says, lips trembling as her fingers wipe
desperately at her eyes. “I had to see him one more time.”
“Don’t. You’re not allowed to give up too. You promised. Remember?”
Casper wheels her beside me, and when she tries to get up, her legs give
under her weight. She’s shaking and sobbing and I don’t know who she’s
crying for.
Kit, the baby, herself. I have no idea. And as much as I want to comfort
her, I don’t have it in me right now.
It makes me a bastard, but they’re all giving up. They’re all throwing in
the towel and letting him go.
“Stop trying to stand and walk. For God’s sake, just do as the doctor
asked!” Casper tells her off. “I’ll get Christopher in here so qui—”
“You wouldn’t dare. Not today. I need today for me.”
 “Yeah, well, don’t be an idiot.” Settling her back in her wheelchair, he
looks at me with his own brand of sympathy that consists of pity, respect,
and pride. “Make sure she doesn’t get up.”
Taking one last look back, he leaves. I can tell he doesn’t want to go,
but he wants to give us space.
“Have you said goodbye?” Arabella asks, her hand grasping mine
tightly. I couldn’t shake her off if I tried. “I know you don’t want to now,
but if you don’t get to…” her voice breaks and for a moment she looks like
she’s about to choke on her tears and her words. “If you don’t get to say
goodbye, it hurts so much more, Leo.”
Fuck, I can’t dismiss her words. I can’t be mad at her. Wrapping my arm
around her shoulders I give her a light squeeze.
“I know it’s hard, but it’s better to make the choice than to have it taken
away from you.” She smiles at Julian. “He wouldn’t want to be kept like
this.”
My chest crumples, wringing my heart and lungs. Crushing every last
morsel of hope and fight.
They’re right, Kit wouldn’t want to be kept like this. All the possibilities
and outcomes at this stage aren’t in the favour of a normal, lucid life.
“I can’t do it.”
“He’s gone.” Julian brushes the strip that’s left of Kit’s dark hair. It
looks so thin now.
“You know it’s the right thing. Even if the guilt is telling you otherwise,
you know he would never have wanted to be left hanging on. That’s not
Kit.” Her hand reaches up, squeezing mine on her shoulder.
“He’s a doer, and keeping him here, like this, is the last thing he
would’ve wanted.”
Looking up at me with tears sluicing down her face, Arabella cups my
face. Her touch is so cool compared to its usual feel. “Say goodbye and
hold on to all the good things. Hold on to the memories, and all the things
he did for you. Those are all that matter.”
“Bella.”
“Do it, Leo. Before the choice is taken away from you and you can’t tell
him all the things you want him to know. You’ll regret that more than
anything else.” Shuffling to the edge of her wheelchair, she pulls herself as
close as she can get to the bed. “Help me up? I want to give him one last
hug. That’s all I need.”
 Julian rushes to our side of the bed and helps me sit her beside Kit. It’s
the first time she’s smiled this whole time.
“Do you want us to leave you?” Julian asks her before he returns to his
seat.
“That’s okay. I don’t have too much to say. I just want to sit with him
for a little bit. It’s been too long.” Resting her head beside his, she wraps
her arms around one of his.
We sit in silence, the whir and whoosh of the machines the only noise.
Even our tears are silent.
“Okay, I’m going to go now.” She tells him softly, stroking his face with
her fingertips. “I’ll see you someday, pretty boy. Not too soon, even if I’ll
never stop missing you.” She pauses and inhales a deep breath. “I need you
to do me a favour. Look after my baby? Tell her about me? I want her to
know me. I want her to know that she was loved and wanted, and that she’ll
be missed.”
I’m choking on my silent tears and when she offers me her hand, I take
it. I shuffle closer before I wipe her tears with the edge of the sheet.
“I need to go now. Don’t feel guilty.” Pressing a wet kiss to my jaw, she
places Kit’s hand in mine. “This isn’t what he would’ve wanted. He needs
us to let him go.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Neither do I, but I think this one time we can be selfless. We can give
him what he needs.” Her arm wraps around my waist tightly and with a
drawn-out breath she releases me. “Jules, will you take me back to my
room?”
He doesn’t hesitate. He picks her up and places her in the wheelchair.
Before I know it, I’m alone with Kit.
I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure if it’s meant to be a proper
goodbye, or something else. All I know is that sitting beside him, like this,
it doesn’t feel like he’s gone.
Shuffling down the bed, I lie beside him. We used to do it all the time as
kids. I’d crawl into his bed and we’d lay there, staring at the glow in the
dark stars on his ceiling. Sometimes he’d make me go back to my own bed,
but on the nights our parents would argue, he’d let me stay, and he’d hold
my hand until I fell asleep.
So that’s what I do. I hold his hand until I can’t anymore. I hold his
hand until I’m told I have to let go.
Until he’s gone.

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 Chapter 39

LEO

I never took my brother for granted, Kit and I, we had our

arguments and our fights. But we never held grudges. We
always found a way around our differences, but today…today I
am angry at him. At our parents. At God, at myself.
Saying goodbye was never something I truly thought I’d have to do. All
these months I’ve been waiting for him to wake up, I knew the possibility
was there. I thought I was prepared for it. I wasn’t.
I’m still hoping this is all a nightmare I’ll wake-up from. That somehow
my brother and my girl will be okay. I’m hoping I’ll wake-up and they’ll be
the best of friends.
Cassie and Kit would’ve loved one another.
But he’s gone now, and my beautiful little flower is still lying in that
same bed.
“You’re meant to help the good people. The innocent and vulnerable.
You’re meant to protect them in the hour of their need, in the shadow of
death and deepest darkness. You promised to guide us, protect the weak and
make them strong. To restore their souls. Where is your goodness and
mercy now?” Fisting Kit’s crucifix, I lean forward in my seat.
This place looks so different to the last time I was here. It feels like a
lifetime ago that I found Cassie right here. She was everywhere I turned,
she is all I see and all I want. “And if you take her from me too... Where is
your light?”
 “If there’s no darkness, how do you expect to see his light?” Father
Byrne sits beside me in the pew. His gaze wandering around the building
like it’s the most wondrous thing. I used to think it was too.
“Wasn’t that one of the first lessons you were taught? Light can only
shine in the dark, otherwise it’s pointless. You can’t see it.”
I am the darkness and Cassie is all the light I need, but little by little
she’s getting snuffed out.
“Leo…”
Getting up, I look down at him and I wonder if he really does believe
what he preaches, or whether it’s all just memorised verses and white lies.
“Pray to Him, Father, maybe he’ll listen to you.”
Leaving the old church, I walk to my car and head back to Cassie’s side.
Somewhere along the way I actually believe that the priest’s prayers will
work. I allow myself to think that we’re not alone in this, but that all fades
when I sit beside her again.
Every time I look at her, she looks smaller in that bed. Cassie looks like
she’s disappearing in front of me.
Come on, Little Queen. Open those beautiful eyes.
Open them for me. For me, Cass. Let me see you, baby.
If my prayers to God won’t be answered maybe my pleas to her will.
“Don’t make me say goodbye to you too. I can’t do it. Don’t you
understand? I can’t do this on my own. I need you.”
Kissing and nipping at the heel of her hand, I squeeze her fingers
tighter.
“I’m stuck on you, Buttercup, forever. I can’t do forever without you.”
Taking the crucifix from my pocket, I wrap it around her wrist before I
toe off my trainers and lie beside her. I hold her hand as I turn to her and
watch her breathe. Her plump lips are dry again and when I turn her face to
mine, licking my lips I press them to hers.
I don’t move. I just hold on to her, savouring her every breath as it fills
my lungs. I’m so tired and it’s so quiet, that I can’t help but close my eyes.
Maybe I’ll dream of her and her smiles again. Maybe forever won’t be a
hopeless prayer…

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 Chapter 40

CASSANDRA

I ’m aching and burning. It’s so hot, and it feels so strange

because all I remember is the cold and darkness. Chilly water
slowly freezing in my veins with every pound of my lazy heart.
But now it’s so bright that my eyes hurt when I try and open them. It’s
never been this hard to wake up, and I really want to.
My body is heavy, and I can’t remember how to move. I need to move.
Why can’t I do anything?
I’m so tired and so hot. My throat and eyes are burning and my chest is
sore.
“Cassie?”
Fire fills my eyes and trails down my face.
“Wake up, Leo!”
It feels too early to wake up. I’m still tired.
“Cassie, sweetheart?”
My throat vibrates with my groan and although I want to turn over and
go back to sleep my body feels stuck. The heaviness pushes through the
sleepiness until I have no choice but to open my eyes.
“Oh Jesus!” I can barely make out my mother’s blur as she leans over
me. “You’re awake!”
Pounding with her every word, my head feels like it might explode.
God, why is my neck so sore?
“Leo, get up! She’s awake!” Leaning over me she jostles the bed, and
my whole body protests. “Don’t cry. Shhh…don’t cry.”
 “Buttercup?”
That’s the only voice I need to hear, turning my head, I blink until I can
see his face. Leo’s bright green eyes pierce mine and my chest hurts a bit
more at the sight of his tears.
“Crying?” It’s all I can say because the dryness in my throat makes it
painful to get anymore words out.
“I thought I’d lost you too.” His forehead touches mine until the tips of
our noses touch.
“Why, silly?”
Shaking his head, he pulls back and looks across me before he starts to
get up.
“No.” I’m trying to grab him, but my arms are still so heavy that it takes
me a while to loosen them.
“It’s okay,” Mum leans down, stroking my cheek at the same time as
Leo says, “We need to call the doctor.”
It’s only then that I look around and realise that I have no idea where I
am. My heavy body and the strange room. The machines…his tears and her
worry…the smell, I recognise the smell of bleach and all things sterile.
My throat begins to swell with my unfurling panic, and it doesn’t matter
that I don’t feel anything but safe—my chest hurts so bad like it’s been
ripped apart.

My hand slams on the red alarm button even before I’ve taken a proper
look at Cassie. She’s crying and thrashing, looking around as she manically
claws at her chest.
 The first thing that goes through my head is that there’s something
really fucking wrong and help isn’t coming quick enough. I don’t know
what to do. Penny is panicking as she runs out of the room to find someone.
Cassie’s hair is getting tangled over her face as she flails, and her skin is
flushing with her panic.
“Cassie, shhhh…” Sliding my arm under her back, I pull her to me so
that she’s leaning on my chest. I know I shouldn’t move her like this, but
my desperation has gotten to the point where I can’t control my yearning
for her. “It’s okay, baby, you’re okay.”
I chant on repeat, trying to settle her. But she’s disoriented and scared.
Her sweat seeps through her hospital gown as she heaves in my arms
and I am so grateful that she’s awake that I can’t control my own breathing.
My eyes are stinging and all I can do is hold her tighter and closer.
All I can do is brush her hair back and kiss her forehead as she cries into
my chest and I cry into her hair.
The doctor and the nurses fill the room, but they’re too late. I’ve got her
and I’m not letting her go for shit. They’ll have to pry her from my cold,
dead arms.
“Leo…” Penny squeezes my shoulder; I know she’s asking me to let go.
To step back and let the doctor take over, but my relief is possessive of her.
I can’t let go. I’m too scared.
“They need to check her over.” Leaning closer, she murmurs into my
ear with another solid squeeze.
“No.” Cassie rasps, as I pull away hesitantly. Her voice is hoarse and
sounds sore. Just as her body feels limp and heavy in my arms.
“I’ll be right here, beautiful girl.” Brushing her hair, I tilt her face up so
I can look at her warm eyes. “Give me your hand.”
When she lies back, I take her hand as I sit in the chair beside the bed.
Penny paces by the door, her eyes never leaving Cassie as she calls Francis.
By the time the room clears, Cassie is falling asleep. Her hand is still
tightly grasping mine, Kit’s crucifix dangling on her wrist…
Thank you.
I don’t know who I’m thanking…God, Kit, maybe both? I don’t know.
All I know is that I’m beyond grateful, and that I’m never letting go.

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 Chapter 41

CASSANDRA

One month later

T he day is so still, there’s no breeze running through the

enclosed cove below Heavers Hall. The small, private stretch
of grey sandy beach is perfect. Picking up a small piece of
driftwood, I wave it in the air between Toby and me. His eyes wide as he
follows it, we’ve been playing this game for the last half hour.
“Go!” Throwing the stick as far as I can, I have to hide the grimace that
pinches my face as my side protests with the strain of my movement. If Leo
sees me so much as flinch, he’ll have us packed up and heading back to the
house before I can tell him I’m okay.
“Come on, silly, bring it back!” Toby drops the stick and when a
shallow wave starts to sweep it away, he pounces on it. Biting down on it,
he shakes it around before deciding to bring it back to me. “Good boy!”
I swear he smiles at me. His tongue lolling to the side as his eyes track
all my movements again.
Leo’s sat on the shore watching us run along the edge of the water. The
July sun is beaming so bright that it’s blinding. It’s so peaceful that it’s
impossible not to feel happy and safe here in spite of all that’s happened.
 We’ve decided to spend some time away from London. I think that here,
Leo’s taking the time to grieve. Matilda is still in bits over Kit. She can’t
believe that he died in such a freakishly tragic car accident.
More lies. More secrets.
The truth is always on the tip of my tongue when I sit with her. When
she tells me about all the beautiful memories she has of her grandsons. But
now, more than ever, I understand the need to protect her from the truth.
She wouldn’t survive it, and if she did, her heart would never recover. And
as selfish as it may be, I want her heart to remain as big and warm as it is.
Leo needs her softness.
We’re all still so shaken up over what happened. London just feels like a
death-trap I don’t want to be in right now. I don’t know how Arabella can
bear staying there. Christopher is barely hanging on. Sometimes I wish I’d
said yes to walking with them, maybe things would’ve been different.
Barking at me to throw the stick, Toby jumps up at me, his large paws
pushing down on my shoulders, pull me down. Before I know it, I’m on my
arse on the ground and Leo is fussing over me as he berates Toby.
“Relax! I’m fine. Honestly!”
“He could’ve hurt you.” Picking me up he holds me close to his chest,
and I don’t miss the way he looks in the direction of my scar. I made sure I
wore my most covered up bikini, hoping that he’d forget about it for just
today.
“Stop treating me like every little thing is going to break me. It’s not.
He was just playing.”
“He knows not to jump up.” He says, not listening to a word I’ve just
said as he lowers us onto the wet sand with me pressed to his chest.
“Besides, you are breakable, Cass.”
He’s doing that whole thing where he broods over what could’ve
happened, rather than what’s happening here and now. I love him for it, but
I miss his roughness. I miss the way he squeezes me so tight that I can
barely breathe.
I keep thinking of that first time he stood me in front of the Delaroche,
and I can’t help but wonder if he sees me like that girl in the painting now
that I have a scar to remind him of his worst nightmare.
I can’t bear that thought. If anything will break me it’s that. And I refuse
to break for anything and anyone other than him.
 “I want you to touch me, Leo.” Straddling his lap, I twist his cap
backwards. My fingertips tangling in the longer ends of his hair. With the
salt they’re curling, and I love the coarse feel of the strands.
“I am touching you.” Eyes on mine, his hands splay on my back rather
than sinking into my flesh.
“No, I want you to touch me. Devour me. Mark me.” I want his mouth
all over me. Without his bites and marks, my body feels bare. I miss the
small bruises on my hips from where his fingers dig in deep to pull me
closer to him.
I miss the way my nipples were always sore and slightly chafed from
his rough fingers. I miss the ache in my thighs from the way he used to
spread me open for him. “I want you to own me again.”
My eyes trail down his sun kissed chest, it doesn’t matter how many
times I get to see or touch his tattooed skin, it always makes my heart race
with want and need.
“Please.”
“Cassie…”
“If I’m to break, then I want to do it for you. Please.” When I look up to
get another glimpse of his face, all the breath leaves my lungs. He’s the
most tragically beautiful man on this earth. And God, I love him so much
that it’s probably a sin.
“You already have.” The grit of his voice is accompanied by the press of
his fingers on either side of my waist. “I could’ve lost you. You see that?”
Pushing up the hem of my long sleeve bikini top he exposes the pink scar
on the side of my chest. “I could’ve lost you and been left with nothing.”
Lowering his head to my chest he leans me back on his thighs, pressing
soft kisses to the bottom of my exposed breasts.
Ignoring the nicety of his soft kisses, I push my chest up to his face with
a moan when his teeth barely graze my skin. “Take a bite, Leo.”
I know he wants to; his body is shaking with the need to give me what
I’m asking for. He can’t help it, just like I can’t help wanting it.
“Do it. Bite me.” Pulling his cap off, I throw it on the sand. And
tunnelling my fingers into his overgrown hair I tug until his eyes meet mine.
“You promised, remember? Whatever I ask for…”
He’s looking at me with those blazing eyes that tell me he’s desperate to
let go, and once he does, he won’t be able to stop. He’s a Pandora’s box
begging to be opened.
 Leaning back up, I rake my nails down his chest as I lift onto my knees.
His chest heaves as he swallows down the blatant need coursing through
him, and his hands slip down my waist to my arse. As I pull the cords on his
swim shorts loose, his stomach muscles tense and when I tug them open his
cock springs free, bobbing between us.
“Bite me…fuck me…” I look into his eyes, licking my hand before I
wrap it around his shaft and stroke all the way down his length. “Break
me.” Licking into his gaping mouth, I swallow down his groan. “I miss
you.”
I fist his erection as I take my fill of his soft kisses. Slowly they get
deeper with every swipe of my thumb over his leaking tip. Our breaths
tangling with one another until our kiss is too desperate and too clumsy and
we’re gasping each other’s moans and groans with every bite.
His hands wind into my salt tangled lengths, pulling my face up to the
sun and as my arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing me completely
flush to him, he licks up the column of my neck. Teeth grazing, lips
dragging…
He bites into the flesh at my nape, and the growl that vibrates out of him
makes my toes curl into the sand. His cock throbs between us and I’m
aching to have him inside me.
“I want you to fuck me with your dick and your fingers. I want you to
fuck me with your tongue, everywhere. Every way. Every fucking inch of
me, Leo.”
He’s shaking beneath me, his hands pulling hard on my hair.
“I want you to make me hurt. Please. Give me your pain. I need it.” I
do. Badly. More than I realise as his hands skim down my back to my arse
and squeeze hard.
“Stop talking,” he grits, lifting me until his cock throbs at my covered
entrance.
Pulling my bikini bottoms to the side, I guide him inside my pussy.
Slowly he lowers me until we’re both shuddering at the feel of him buried
deep inside me.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Groaning into my mouth he sucks my lip into his
mouth and bites so hard that the pain courses all the way down to my core.
I moan my plea for more and as one of his arms wraps tight around my
waist, one of his hands slaps down lightly on my arse before he grabs at the
fleshy globe, his fingers digging hard into my flesh.
 Fuck. This is everything I’ve waited for the last few weeks. All the hurt
and heaviness fisting my heart and constricting my lungs loosens and I feel
like I can breathe again.
I feel like me.
Cupping his face, I moan as he pushes up into me. His hand rounds my
arse, fingers swiping down my crease, all the way down to my filled pussy.
When he brings them back up, spreading our arousal over my puckered
hole, his eyes find mine and God, I am breathless with how fucking wild
and bright they are. The sun flecking the emerald with gold.
“Everywhere?” he rasps, the tip of his finger circling my arsehole.
Fuck, it feels so good my entire body shudders. My tummy filling with
fiery butterflies.
“Yes. Every. Where.”
His lips crush onto mine and as his tongue twirls with mine, the tip of
his finger presses inside me slowly.
My trembling body sags into his as the arm around my waist moves me
over him. “Fuck, your cunt feels so good. So fucking tight, baby.”
“Mmmmhmmm…”
When my head falls back, he flexes up into me so hard that pain sparks
from my core to my extremities. “Na-ah, you fucking look at me,
Cassandra. I want to see you come.”
Punctuating his words, his finger presses inside me to the last knuckle
and I can’t stop the heat coursing through me.
Every part of me clenches, shaking as I come with him so deep that it
hurts. Pulling me down tight, Leo grinds me over him again and again, until
I’m coming apart again and his cock is pulsing with his release.
Slipping his finger from my arse, he kisses me until my lungs are so
desperate for air that they burn.
“That’s how I need you to touch me forever.” I breathe into his mouth as
he manages to stand without letting me go.
Wading into the water he smiles, “Forever.”
“And ever.”
“Forevermore, my Little Queen.”

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 Epilogue
CHRISTOPHER

Two months later

L ooking at the grainy, crappy photo on my screen one more time,

my insides shrivel a little more. I keep looking, trying to see who
she looks like–me or Bella. But she’s so small that she fits in my
hand. She’s so tiny that they had to wrap her in cotton wool because even
the special nappies were too big.
Her skin is so thin that you can see the red flesh beneath it. This little
girl was meant to be the best thing that ever happened to us.
Our daughter didn’t stand a chance. She was too early. Too small. Too
everything she shouldn’t have been. She was so beautiful though, I know I
keep looking to see who she took after, but it had to have been her mother.
Arabella is so incredibly beautiful that it hurts, and our daughter would’ve
been like her.
I can just imagine this little girl with dark, golden brown hair and dark
eyes, a small nose and olive skin. Every bit her mother’s daughter.
I never thought of those details before. They were something we’d be
surprised with. How could I not have thought about those things before?
I can’t stop thinking about them now. I’m sat in this room that would’ve
been hers. Arabella and I would have painted the walls that light shade of
grey she loves, and we would’ve fought over how I was putting the
furniture together. About how much pink there would be. About the furry
rug she loved but I hated. The silly rocking chair that was pretty to look at
but uncomfortable as fuck to actually sit in.
It’s too late for all that now. Our little girl is gone. Arabella is gone. All I
have left are the empty note she left, her rings and this rotting house.
We promised to never leave one another. We took vows. Signed papers.
But she’s left me, and I can’t blame her. I can’t hate her.
I can only blame myself. I should’ve been prepared. I should’ve seen it
coming. God, I should’ve been the arsehole she accused me of being for
keeping her locked up.

“I CAN’T KEEP LIVING like this. I need freedom and space. I just want to
go for a walk without a bevy of people following me.”
I fucking hate that she’s having to go through this. I hate that we’re
having to hide away whilst the cretins of this world get to roam free. They
get to hide behind faceless organisations. Secret meetings and a whole heap
of shit they’re meant to be fighting against.
I hate that I can’t be the person that gives her those things she’s asking
for, when she gives me so much.
“I can’t even buy underwear without Murphy seeing it before you. My
bodyguard knows what you’re getting before you, Christopher!” she hisses
at me cuttingly.
“You think I give a fuck about what he sees? That’s what he’s paid for,
to see things, to keep you safe. I couldn’t give a shit if Ryan Murphy saw me
balls deep inside your cunt, so long as he’s doing his fucking job.”
I’ve tried so hard to ignore her jibes the last couple of days. I know
she’s hormonal and that she’s upset that we didn’t get to celebrate our civil
wedding. I know that I’m the only person that she can rant and rave to
about how she’s feeling, because Arabella is proud, and she refuses to show
anyone a chink in her armour. She refuses to let anyone see that despite our
happiness we struggle too.
“I fucking hate you, you inconsiderate arsehole!” Her fists press into
my chest. She’s looking at me with so much anger that it’s making me want
to tear her apart and devour her. Her chest is heaving, and her head is
tipped back so she can look up at me where she’s so tiny.
 Her eyes are tear lined and fuck, my chest aches with the hurt my words
have caused her.
“I’m trying, Belles.” I tell her, brushing the soft, curled tendrils that
frame her face.
She sighs as I draw her closer to me, until her face is buried in my
chest, and I hold her for as long as she lets me. The feel of her swollen belly
pressing to me is a reminder as to why we’re doing this. Why we’re putting
ourselves through this.
I want our daughter to live in a world where she won’t get snatched
from the roadside and sold to the highest bidder. Where she won’t be forced
to give up her innocence against her consent, to a man that’s older than her
grandfathers.
Arabella looks up at me, her chin resting on my chest. She gives me that
soft lopsided smile that tells me she’s calmed down and the harsh words we
exchanged are done with, nothing but faraway echoes.
“I’m trying too.” She says as her hands slip to mine at the top of her
arse. Her fingers tangle with mine as she steps back, her belly poking out of
her lilac silk robe. Her heavy breasts barely concealed.
So fucking beautiful.
“I know you are, mi morena.” She smiles at the Spanish endearment
and her cheeks flush. “I love you, Belles. You and…Violet...or Flow…or…”
“It was Livia, Elsie, Florence, or Ophelia, dickhead!”
“I’m not calling my daughter dickhead,” I tease her.
“I was calling you a dickhead, and this is our daughter.” She brings our
joined hands to her belly. “You really are sorry, huh?” she says as she rolls
onto her tiptoes and then presses a kiss to my jaw. She’s so short that even
stretching herself she can’t reach my lips.

I THINK our baby would’ve been just as petite as her. She would have been
as feisty as her mama, with her fiery Spanish temperament.
I look at the photo on my phone again, and this time it’s blurry too,
because all I can think of are the seven excruciating hours I had to watch
her fight for her next second on this earth. The punchy whooshing of the
machines keeping her alive. All the tubes and cables.
Seven fucking hours.
 My daughter didn’t get to meet her mother. She didn’t get to be held by
the one person who loved her beyond her own life.
God, that makes me so angry. I can’t even breathe with how it tears me
up from the inside out. All this anger, all the regret.
I thread Arabella’s rings through the rope like string I pulled off one of
the boxes the builders have lying around. I tie it loosely around my neck
because I’m not letting her go.
Arabella is mine.
She has my name. She has my heart.
I’ll scorch this earth if I have to, to bring her back to me. Right as I tear
all the fuckers that took our daughter from us limb from limb.
I don’t care what it takes, but I’ll avenge them both. A drop of blood at a
time, until the blood on my hands matches theirs.
I take one last look at my daughter, my heart breaking for the millionth
time because I didn’t realise how much I loved her until it was too late.
Until she came into this world too soon, and then left far too early. I pocket
the device and grab my key from the floor. I tuck my wife’s rings, the
promises she made into my shirt, right next to my heart and I go.
Leo swore he’d be ready when I was. I’m ready.

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 About the Author

Alexandra Silva is a tequila loving book hoarder living in London. She writes about real people who
have to fight for their happy endings. Her stories are raw, heartfelt and sexy. Her heroes are flawed,
dirty and sweet with feisty heroines who give them a run for their money.
Although contemporary romance is my jam, I’m currently writing a romantic suspense series I
am super excited to share with you.

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 Acknowledgments

Man, I can't believe Leo and Cassie are out in the wild. There were times
that I didn't think it would ever happen because this wasn't just a passion
project. It was a pain in my butt and the bane of my life...for all the right
reasons. I have so many people to thank for helping me get Burn to where it
is—in your hands.
So, my first thanks goes to you, the reader. Whether you are new to me
or not, thank you for taking a chance on this baby.
Trilina and Lee, thank you so much for all the advice and critique. It is
invaluable. I'm still over here fangirling and pinching myself. Burn would
not be what it is without your input, and I'm so honoured that you took the
time to help this girl and her baby grow. Trilina, you are something pretty
freaking special. Your fierceness is awing. I'm so honoured to call you a
friend.
Alison, you have championed this story from the very start. It's no joke
or exageration when I say that Leo and Cassie would not have happened
without your cheering. I am so lucky to have you on my team, to push me
to keep going and to believe in myself when it's not the easiest thing to do.
Thank you for being the bestest Tigger around. I love you to the moon and
back. To infinity and beyond.
My BETAs, you ladies are awesome. I'm still blown away by your love
for this story and all the support. THANK YOU for being part of team Alex.
My editor, Kelly Allenby. You're always incredible at breaking things
down and making them shine. Your eye for detail is freaking great.
 Claire Allmendinger and Wendy Shatwell at Bare Naked Words. Lord,
you ladies are the freaking bog's dollocks! How you put up with my weird
ramblings, I have no idea, but thank you!
I have a mahoosive, out of this world shout out for Lou over at LJ
Designs. You, my sweet and talented friend, are a mothereffing LEGEND! I
love this cover, and working on it with you was bloody brilliant. You just
got my crazy, and I know how hard that can be since I don't always get it
myself! I can't wait for the next one. Aaaaagh!
Thank you so much to my ARC team for all the support. You guys rock
some serious socks!
Annette Brignac and Michelle Clay, my Book Nerd beauties...man, boy
oh boy! You ladies are lifesavers. Thank you for stepping in and helping me
steer this crazy arse train in the right direction. For always saying YOU
CAN when everything else says nu-uh. For reminding me that the best thing
to be is me. For having my back, even when I'm fighting with my own
shadow and rambling like a loon. It means the world.
To my little, medium and big men—thank you for being my glue. I love
you more than all the Pornstar Martinis and Southern Comfort in the world.
More than all my bookshelves filled to the brim. More than fair doughnuts,
and more than the fatty dressing on my healthy salads. You're life!

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Also by Alexandra Silva

Imperfect Hearts Series

No One But You
For You
Someone Like You

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