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“Three men were killed during the meet late last night,” Nate is saying. “Former Talvery men facing off. I’ve had some contacts say—”
I move slightly, trying to get a better look at Declan’s face. He’s shifted position and is hard to see, but then I get the perfect angle and I do. My heart is racing. I shouldn’t be in here. Declan lifts his eyes from the surface of his desk and turns his head.
He’s looking right at me. My skin blazes and I can barely breathe.
I stay as still as I’ve ever stayed, despite my pulse hammering inside my chest. True terror overwhelms me, the kind I should have felt and somehow didn’t when I learned he’d killed Travis. He turns back to Nate and doesn’t interrupt him. Did he see me?
“Blow up the bar on Fifth,” Declan says. I think it’s where the Talvery men have their meets. I’m not supposed to know about it, though. I’m never supposed to hear anything that is spoken in Declan’s office. I know plenty now, though. “Have Patrick and Barrett set up a block away.”
“Patrick’s not in town,” adds Nate.
“What about Dorian? He has experience with sniping, doesn’t he?”
Nate nods as my body goes cold. Sniping? As in shooting them?
“Fine. Have the two of them set up. Kill any of the higher-ups. No one else. Only the higher-ups.” Declan taps his fingers on the desk; I can’t see but I can hear it. I’ve learned he does that when he’s thinking. “Spread the word that Aria and Carter’s marriage was an alliance and we will keep our promise to everyone who has not betrayed us. Make sure we’re giving the impression it was only a few men who we believe should pay for what happened, only the few who gave the orders and that it’s been dealt with. Give the men the option to come to us … and turn on each other.”
Nate responds, “Yes, Boss.”
“I have work to do. We’re finished for now.”
Nate leaves quickly. The office door opens and closes with a thud. My thumb runs over my fingers, wanting me to push the door open. But I don’t know what I’d say.
I’m not given the option to wait any longer, though.
“You can come out now.” His voice is calm and even, yet it sends a fear through me.
“Declan, I—” I speak through the crack, not yet opening it and facing him.
I’m cut off by his order. “Come out now so I can see you.”
Swallowing the spiked ball in my throat, I obey him instantly but my hands tremble. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant. It matters that you were here.” Still, his tone portrays a matter-of-factness, no anger, no disappointment.
“I’m sorry.”
“Put those away.” His gaze travels down to my hands, I hadn’t realized I was still holding the nipple clamps. My cheeks heat as I open the door, and I feel Declan’s eyes burning into the back of my neck with every move I make. When I’m done I come back to him, standing beside his desk where I know he prefers me.
He stands with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his thumb traveling down his jaw as he assesses me. I’ve never felt so much like a child in his presence. Struggling to say anything at all, I peer up, waiting for him.
“What did you hear?”
“Nothing.” I swallow thickly.
“You mean everything?” His brow cocks.
I nod. “I heard everything.”
I expect him to be angry at me, but Declan sits on the edge of his desk, his expression calm. “You know better. What should your punishment be?”
“I don’t know.” My palms are clammy and my heart races.
With a gentleness I don’t expect, he brushes my hair away from my face. “You need to give me better answers, my sweet girl.” His hand cups my jaw and he repeats, emphasizing the question, “What should your punishment be?”
My mouth is dry. I can’t come up with an answer. I just want him to tell me. “Whatever you think it should be.”
“I never did get to fuck you after spanking you,” he comments, almost to himself. “The next time you’re in here when you don’t think you should be, do not hide. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You come out immediately.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” His voice is a soothing balm. As his thumb runs down my chin and lower, my eyes close. “I prefer for you to be my good girl so I don’t have to punish you.”
With my heart racing, I swallow and then whisper, “I know.” When I open my eyes, his hazel gaze is on me, swirling with a dark lust. He’s going to spank me; I know he is. With deep breaths, I prepare myself. Remembering the last time, with the ruler, I contemplate begging him to use his hand instead. I swallow down the plea, I will be his good girl. I’ll do whatever he wants. Even if the nervous prickling runs over every inch of my skin. The pain will be bad at first but it won’t last for more than a day.
