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“Sure,” I muttered, my eyes glued to the road ahead, desperate to escape her incessant chatter.
As we pulled through the gates and approached the mansion, I noticed something unusual. Silence. The estate was eerily quiet, an oddity considering my mother’s penchant for theatrics and grandeur. My stomach twisted with unease, my mind racing with thoughts of what could be happening tonight. Ever since Darius returned home, life had been nothing short of a chaotic shit show.
“Finally, we’re here,” Cynthia said, a hint of relief in her tone. She clearly sensed my annoyance throughout the drive.
I parked the car, stepping out into the crisp evening air. The door slammed shut behind me, offering a brief respite from the suffocating presence of my wife. Inside, the atmosphere hung heavy with anticipation, making it hard to breathe. I knew something big was coming; the tension was palpable. I was tired of all the announcements, the constant upheaval that seemed to follow Darius like a dark cloud.
“Sweetheart. Cynthia,” my mother greeted us, her eyes trained on me with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. It sent a shiver down my spine, my instincts screaming that whatever was about to happen would change everything.
I watched as Cynthia cozied up to my mother, batting her eyelashes and laughing at every word that dripped from the older woman’s mouth. It sickened me, this blatant display of sucking up. My mother’s gaze remained fixed on me, her piercing stare sending a wave of unease coursing through my veins. Something was definitely wrong.
“Weston, darling,” she purred, not tearing her eyes away from mine. “Why don’t you get yourself a drink before dinner?”
I blew out a breath, anything to suppress the distaste in my voice. As I headed toward the kitchen, I caught sight of Kent disappearing down the opposite hall. Curiosity gnawed at me, urging me to follow him, if only to escape the suffocating atmosphere surrounding my mother and wife. Turning the corner, however, I was met not with Kent but with Darius leaning nonchalantly against the wall. His dark-brown hair framed his face, and those hazel eyes seemed to pierce right through me. He was dressed casually in jeans and a soft, fitted T-shirt, which struck me as odd at first. But then I remembered; he was living here now, at our parents’ estate, and him being Darius, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about formalities.
“Why do you always look like you have stick up your ass?” he said, the corner of his lip lifting.
Surprised, I raised a brow, and took a step forward. “You mean why do I always look like I give a shit?” I eyed him, trying my best to look disgusted at his presence, but it was all a fucking lie.
“Prick.”
His vague response irked me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, my body betraying my mind. The air between us crackled with tension, thick and heavy like a storm about to break. My head turned in the direction Kent had gone, but my feet remained planted like glue on the floor. My heart raced as I quickly glanced down the opposite hallway, ensuring it was clear of any unwanted eyes. As if drawn by some magnetic force, I stepped towards Darius.
“Looking for someone?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
“Kent,” I choked out, every fiber of my being screaming that this proximity to Darius was dangerous—intoxicating.
"Ah," he said, before firmly pressing his back against the wall.
His hazel eyes, dark and intense, never left mine as they lazily trailed over my body, drinking me in like a predator sizing up its prey. His tongue darted out, moistening his lips before he bit down on them, teasing me with an unspoken promise of what they could do.
“You’re not in control here. Remember that,” I said, trying to regain authority over the situation. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, as if physical restraint could keep me from reaching out and touching him.
“I think I am.” His voice was low and sultry.
He arched an eyebrow, challenging me to admit what we both already knew—that I didn’t care where Kent was right now. All that mattered was the air between us, thick with tension and desire. I wanted to be in control. I needed to be in control. He let his head rest against the wall, jutting out his chin, and let his tongue drag across his bottom lip once more. The fucker knew my weakness. The heat between us was almost tangible, and I could feel my cock stirring in response to Darius’s unspoken challenge. I gritted my teeth, unwilling to give in so easily.
“Are you just going to stand there looking pretty or open your mouth and say something?” I snapped, hoping to elicit a reaction from him.
Darius’s face twisted into a feral, wolfish grin as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me closer. His hot breath tickled my ear as his voice dripped with command. “Kneel.” My heart hammered in my chest, and I stepped back, my senses overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of his touch, followed by shock and confusion. Yet despite my outrage, I couldn’t deny the way the words had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. My mind screamed for me to resist, but my traitorous cock throbbed in agreement.
“No,” I growled, refusing to submit so easily.
His smile only grew wider, all too aware of the effect he had on me. He pulled out his phone, displaying the photo that had been sent to him two weeks ago. The sight of it made my blood run cold, a stark reminder of the power he held over me.
“Fuck you.”
“Maybe later,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm and lust. “But for now, I suggest you do as you’re told.”
“And what the fuck are you going to do with that?” I asked, trying to keep my sanity.
“Nothing,” he replied coolly, his hazel eyes locking onto mine, “if you do what you’re told and kneel.”
My mind raced, torn between the desire to maintain control and the undeniable urge to give in to him. As much as I hated to admit it, I wanted this—wanted him. I raised my chin to the ceiling, the soothing sound of the large grandfather clock at the end of the hall ticking with the rapid beat of my heart.
“Fine,” I muttered, hating the vulnerability in my voice. “I’ll play your fucking game. But remember, Darius, I’m not the only one with secrets.”
He chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Oh, I’m well aware, uncle,” he replied, the word dripping with venom. “And trust me, I have no intention of forgetting.”
