Page 53 of Cruel Dynasty

“Fine,” Spencer said in a clipped tone, redirecting his attention to his brother. “I’ll make you a deal. Stop calling her that, stop flirting with her, give up this fascination you’ve developed to get back at me, and I’ll give you what you really want.”

I gasped, but neither of them seemed to notice. I might be the prize, but this wasn’t about me.

A muscle ticked in Holden’s jaw. He sat rigidly in the chair and glared at him. “And what is that, brother?”

“One night,” he said simply, and my body went cold. “I’ll give you one night with her.”

Holden glanced at me, his lips smashed into a thin line as if he didn’t dare to speak.

“Spencer,” I murmured, doing my best to restrain myself. This had to be a joke, or, at the very least, his way of proposing a threesome like he’d done last night. “I don’t—”

“Shhh,” Spencer hushed me. “He’s thinking.”

I froze, not because I didn’t know what to say but because I didn’t know what to lob at him first. Feelings crowded my brain, stampeding toward my mouth, and I tried to sort through them to find the most hurtful thing I could. Because I needed to get his attention. I needed to draw my own line. I should have done so much sooner than this moment.

“With you?” Holden finally asked through gritted teeth. His gaze darted at me as if warning me to stay silent.

“If you want,” Spencer continued. “Or you can have her all to yourself.” His mobile vibrated on the table. He lifted and frowned when he saw the screen. “Excuse me, a moment. I need to take this.”

He stood and answered. I sat in stunned silence watching him take the stairs that led from the stone veranda to the gardens below. He was too far away to hear what call was so important that he’d interrupted his own sales pitch.

My lashes grew heavy and hot, and I blinked with confusion, surprised when tears ran down my cheeks.

“Are you…” Holden trailed off. A moment later his fist slammed into the tabletop with a crack. A crack splintered across it and I pushed away afraid the glass would shatter. It held, but it was permanently ruined. “Fuck. Of course, you aren’t okay. Fuck him.”

“Maybe, he just…” I mumbled as I searched for a reason.

“No. Don’t make excuses for him,” Holden demanded.

“He told me that he’d never have to force me.” I sniffed, swiping at my tears. I was such an idiot. “He told me I’d always do what he wanted because that’s what I would want. I thought he respected me. But I was just a gift for him to do with as he pleased.”

“You aren’t an object,” Holden interjected. “You’re—”

“I am,” I stopped him. “Tod Belmond bought me—body, soul, and virginity to boot—and gave me to him. I belong to Spencer until Kerrigan comes back or this year is up.” I swallowed and forced a smile. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth are you apologizing to me for?” he asked, still trembling with barely suppressed anger.

“It wouldn’t be that bad to spend a night with you,” I said quietly. “Actually, it wouldn’t be bad at all. I mean, I tried to get you into bed yesterday.” I tried to smile but found that I couldn’t. I felt too heavy to carry even a sign of happiness.

“It would be that bad,” Holden said with disgust. “So let me make this clear. I will never lay another finger on you…”

“Holden!” I choked on his name as he stood and glowered over me.

“...unless you ask me to,” he finished, sweeping away my objections. Wordlessly, he left without so much as a glance toward the gardens his brother paced in.

Spencer’s call continued after he’d gone, and with each second that ticked by I bolstered myself to face him. When he finally mounted the stairs and started toward me, I knew exactly what I wanted—no needed—to say to him. The words were poised on the tip of my tongue when I spotted the slump of his shoulders. I hesitated, realizing his eyes followed his feet as his head hung down. When he finally lifted his face to mine, the anguish there changed everything.

“Spencer?” I called in concern.

“It’s my grandfather,” he said in a hollow voice. “He’s dead.”

22

I’d barely processed this when Spencer’s grief seemed to snap in two. Behind it, he wore a mask of determined resilience. “I need to make a few calls before we leave.”

“I can pack,” I offered, switching directions as quickly as my brain would allow.

“Thank you,” he said as he lifted his mobile to his ear. “And tell Holden.”