AllFreeNovel
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She’s a vision in her white dress. A Grecian inspired.
An elegant yet sinfully sexy white lace dress with a deep V at the front and a long skirt. It’s tight. Perfectly molds against every dip and curve with a side split that I plan to rip later and fuck her while she wears the tatters.
“Pervert.” Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. Those ruby red lips and soft brown curls accentuate the cerulean of her eyes. How bright they are. How devilish she is.
Because while this little girl will always hold a certain air of innocence about her, she’s no longer pure. London’s taste are ever changing. Morphing. As the week since her kidnapping passed, she has come into her own.
She wants this life. With me.
Craves the darkness I control.
There isn’t a single ounce of remorse for what she did, and I’m proud of her. Have let her lead when it comes to how the Foster story ends.
“For you? Always.” My hands skim down her spine, and she shivers. Over her ass, and she lets out the sexiest kittenish sound. “Ready to play?”
“With you? Forever.” She turns around, and in her heels almost reaches my chin, which she bites. “Now, let’s go celebrate.”
As we descend the stairs, the noise of conversations infiltrates and her smile grows. My family is here, and she loves them as much as they do her.
The formal dining room is full when we enter. My mother and father, Javier and Mariah, and lastly Marcus, sit around our table. All dressed to the nines, while the last, like he’s been inside of a padded cell and is seeing the light for the first time in years. He’s skittish. Afraid. Pussy.
“Evening.” All voices cease as we enter, walking to the front where I pull out London’s chair and she waves to the room. A whimper comes from the opposite end, but we ignore him as we take our place at the head.
“You two look rested,” Mariah comments, bringing her glass of wine to her lips and taking a sip. “Playing hooky looks good on you.”
“Best nap of my life,” I reply, winking at my cousin while the others chuckle. Magda comes in then; her dress is all black and for mourning. She walks around the room in silence and places a plate in front of everyone with a domed lid. Every plate is empty except one.
His.
A starving Marcus that hasn’t eaten in over three days.
“May I?” comes from where he sits, a low and meek voice that resembles nothing of the man he once was.
“You may, but first I have an important question for you, sir.” I stand and walk across the room to where he sits and pull a chair out beside him. Sit and wait for him to have the decency to address me. “Aren’t you curious?”
The position I have him in is the perfect vantage point for the cameras recording this, a live feed that Thiago is watching from his home in Miami. Because while he understands the cause and effect—the rapid pace in which Alton was killed or how it came to be—for this one he wants front row seats to the show. Something London agreed with wholeheartedly when I explained.
Was actually her idea that we find an encrypted server through the dark web. Something that with money isn’t hard to do.
“Where’s Alton,” he asks, instead, hands clenching atop the table. “Where is my son?”
“You’ll see him soon enough.” A giggle escapes London, and Marcus looks at her. His eyes turn hard, cold—the hate toward her is palpable.
“Sorry.” I know her, and she’s anything but. “Just remembered something I heard a few days back.”
“Behave, love,” I chuckle and look back at an angry shell of a man. A man that can never hurt her again. Whose last minutes on this earth will be spent in total misery. Because for as much of a piece of shit as Marcus is, the asshole did love his son. Is going to die because of his innate ability to see no wrong in him. “Marcus, the reason I brought you here today is because I’d like to ask you for London’s hand in marriage. I promise to always take care of her. Spoil her. Place the world at her feet because she deserves that and so much more. I love her.”
He doesn’t say a word. He’s fuming in his silence.
“Oh, honey!” my mother exclaims from across the table, clapping her hands together in excitement. “I’m so happy for you both. She’s perfect for you and this family.”
“Welcome to the family, London.” This time it’s my father who talks, and he raises his glass in a toast they all follow. And still, no response from the man who raised her.
“See how happy she is? How fucking beautiful?”
“Bring me to Alton. I need to see my son.”
“Of course. But first…” I lift the lid of his dome where a decent-size portion of a filet sits in a reduction sauce. Specially prepared for him. “Bon appetite.”
