Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

I’m sitting at a stoplight with my windows cracked. My three packed bags are in the back while Muffin is in the passenger seat meowing in her carrier. She hates the car.

“I know,” I say, looking over at her yellow eyes. “It’ll be okay.” A part of me hopes she poops on Haidyn’s pillow tonight since he’s practically making me move in with him.

So much for my me day. This is not how I saw my day going. I thought I was doing something by calling Haidyn out for following me. My eyes look at the rearview mirror to see him on his bike behind me in the turning lane.

The pictures that the Lords sent me didn’t do him justice. Or maybe it’s because I know what he’s capable of now in the bedroom.

He’s got his left boot on the gear, his right one on the pavement, and his tatted hands rest on his jean-clad thighs. He’s got a white baseball hat on backward and wears black aviators.

Goddamn! My body heats as if he’s staring right at me. He probably is. Men get off on that. Being admired. He probably set this whole thing up and paid someone to follow me, knowing I’d call him, and he’d come running in and save the day. Or at the very least to force me out of my home. Either way, this has a Lord written all over it. I know how they work, and I wasn’t born yesterday.

A topless red Jeep pulls up next to me at the light, and I take a quick look. It’s occupied with four girls. The one in the passenger seat stands up and spins around, looking right at Haidyn. “You can ride us.” She immediately falls into her seat and covers her face, and her friends laugh as if it were a dare.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel, and I adjust myself. My eyes quickly go to him, and he chooses to ignore her. I have the urge to roll down my passenger window the rest of the way and call out you can’t handle him but refrain. They look like high school girls, for Christ’s sake.

Glaring at them, I hope they feel my stare through my sunglasses. I adjust my eyes ahead of me just as the light turns green. I slam on the gas and turn a little too sharp. Muffin meows as her carrier hits the interior door. “Sorry.” I reach over to adjust it upright and fix my glasses, letting out a huff.

The thought of being jealous makes me frown. I’ve never belonged to anyone before. Is this what it feels like not to want to share what’s yours? I mean, a lot of women have had him, but it’s my turn, even if I have to act like I don’t want it. Or for how little time it will last. If someone gets his attention, he’ll push me to the side, and I just can’t allow that. Not until I’ve finished my assignment.

My eyes shoot to him again in the rearview mirror as he rides behind me. His right hand on the throttle and left resting on his thigh. He looks relaxed. Much more than I am. But those who are in charge never worry.

He’s taking me to his house. I can’t decide if that’s better or worse than Carnage. At least I know others live at Carnage. At his house, it’ll just be him and me. He can do whatever he wants to me, and no one will hear me scream or know to look for me there.

It’s the perfect plan to wipe me from this world. You don’t need to worry about if the devil is real or not when you know the Lords exist.

I learned at a young age that you don’t need a steel cage to be a prisoner. Sometimes all you need is to be left alone in a room by yourself with nothing but your own thoughts. You can drive yourself crazy all on your own. Or at least I know I can.

I nose my SUV up to his gate so he can pull up behind me and press in the security code. Even though I know it. The gate opens, and I pull through and park in front of the garage. He parks next to me and walks to the back of the hatch as I pop it open.

He removes my three bags, and I grab the empty litter box and Muffin before following him into his house.

It feels…awkward. To be here knowing that I don’t know when I’ll leave. How long will he make me stay? How long will I want to be here?

I don’t have the answer to either question. But then again, a prisoner doesn’t get to choose how long they serve.

The gorgeous house feels as cold as his eyes look. And it lacks any color other than black and gray. It fits his dark and mysterious personality.

“Which room is mine?” I ask, stepping through the front doors he holds open for me.

“You’re sleeping in my room. With me.” His response is clipped.

I let out a nervous breath. I knew that was coming, but I just needed confirmation. He walks off the first hall to the right, and I follow him. He pushes the black double doors open to what I assume is his primary suite.

It looks every bit of what a man like Haidyn would have as a bedroom. It lacks any type of decoration. One entire wall is nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows. The dark and thick curtains are open, showing off the woods. His large Alaskan king-sized bed sits up on a platform. It too is covered in a black comforter and two matching pillows. Who the hell only has two pillows?

He enters the adjoining bathroom and returns without my bags. “There’s plenty of room in the closet for your things,” he tells me, walking over to me.

I take a step back from him, and he comes to a stop. “Did you do this yourself?” I arch a brow, needing to know.

“No.” He scoffs as if that question is offensive.

I set down Muffin’s carrier and open it up, letting her run free and out of the room. “So you expect me to believe you suddenly care for my safety?” I ask, exiting his room and heading to the kitchen to get Muffin a bowl of water.

His boots on the dark marble floor tell me that he’s following. He has a couple of upper cabinets with glass doors, so I open the one with bowls. Looks expensive—crystal—and pick one out. Turning, I face the sink and him, turn on the water, and fill it up before placing it on the floor for Muffin. Then I give Haidyn my undivided attention.

He didn’t answer my previous question, so I ask another. “Then why would you care? Are you jealous?” Even I laugh at that thought and continue to dig at his silence. “That another man might be interested in me?” The guy was fucking stalking me. I didn’t imagine it.

He walks around the kitchen island, grips my hips, picks me up, and sets my ass on the cold surface. He shoves my knees open, standing between them, and cradles my face. His hands gently hold my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. “It’s not about jealousy, doll face. It’s about principle. You belong to me.”

I snort even though the brand on my ass proves his point. “Tell that to my boy toy.” That’s what he called my fake boyfriend when Haidyn showed up at my house, announcing I had an appointment, and I told him I had dinner plans. The thought reminds me that I still need to text Wesley to let him know I’m at least alive on my made-up vacation.

He gives me a smile, one as cold as his voice. “We both know that boy toy hasn’t touched you like I have.”

My breathing becomes labored, and he continues.

“If you let another man touch you, I’ll string him up and cut off his eyelids so he can’t miss you crawling naked on your hands and knees to me. I’ll fuck every hole you have, doll face, and let him see you whine and beg to be used like the whore I know you to be. Then after I’m done with you, I’ll cut his dick off as well and force it down his throat because he will no longer have any use for it.”

My eyes search his, looking for any kind of sign to tell me that he’s joking, but all I see is a man who means every fucking word he says.

“Do you understand, Charlotte?” he demands.

Swallowing, I answer, “Y-yes.”

“Whose little whore, are you?”

I hate the butterflies in my stomach at his command as I answer, “Yours.”

“Good girl.” He gently kisses my forehead. “I have work to do.” He steps back like he didn’t just go into detail about what he would do to another man who thought about me. “Make yourself at home.” With that, he walks away leaving me alone as if he didn’t just get me wet.

HAIDYN

I enter my office and shut the door, needing a moment to myself. My clothes smell like her, and now my house will too. But this was my only option. A part of me knows this was a setup, but the other part doesn’t want to take the risk of being wrong. I’ve claimed her as mine, meaning I must protect her. She’s mine to fuck, mine to ruin, and mine to use. I wasn’t lying when I told her exactly what I would do to another man who thinks he can have what belongs to me.

I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial Adam.

“Hey, man.”

“Charlotte is at the house,” I inform him.

“Everything okay?” he asks, sounding concerned.

“Long story short, she was being followed.”

“Need me to run some plates?”

“No. Didn’t get a look at them.”

He’s silent for a second. “Okay. Is there anything I can do?”

Not this time. “Just wanted to let you know I’m not at the house alone. Were you able to find anything out about her being arrested?”

“Nope. Nothing.” He pauses for a second. “You think she might have lied to you about it?”

“She couldn’t have,” I inform him.

“Got it,” he says in understanding. “I’ll keep digging and let you know what I find.”

We say our goodbyes, and I exit the office, going to look for her. I have her right where I want her. In my house, under my roof, she’ll sleep in my bed. Instead of watching her on my computer, I can just walk into my room and see her naked. It’s like handing candy to a baby. Even I can see the red flags, but I can’t not take advantage of them.

I find her on the second story by the railing, staring down into the living room and open kitchen.

I walk up next to her and watch her sigh when she notices me out of the corner of her eye.

“Did you buy this house, or was it your parents?” she inquires.

“You tell me,” I counter. I never asked her how she knew where I lived when I taped her to the chair in her kitchen, but I didn’t have to. I know how she knew. Only one other person knows I have this house, but she hasn’t been here in years.

Charlotte huffs, then pushes off the railing and turns her back to walk away.

“I bought it.” I decide to answer. I don’t need her to be happy with me. I’m still going to get what I want out of her, but it can’t hurt.

Stopping, she turns back to look at me but says nothing, so I continue. “A contractor built it for his wife.”

She frowns. “Then why did he sell it?”

“He caught her cheating with his business partner. He beat him to death.”

Stepping back over to the railing, she asks, “And his wife…what did he do to her?”

“He dragged her to the cathedral, tied her down, and offered her to the Lords.”

She snorts. “Of course he did. Did she survive?”

“No.”

Her hands wrap around the metal as she stares out the floor-to-ceiling windows for a long second. “When a Lord dies, his Lady is regifted.”

For some. My brothers and I are different. “Yes,” I decide to say even though it wasn’t a question.

“What happens to a Lord when his Lady dies?”

“He gets a new one.”

“So…” She swallows. “You’re saying that he killed his business partner and then allowed other Lords to torture his wife before they killed her? And the Lords still rewarded him with another wife?”

“Yes.”

She gives a rough laugh. “And let me guess, she was younger and prettier.”

I say nothing.

“Was she a virgin too?” Her laughter grows, but when her eyes meet mine, she squares her shoulders. “Unbelievable, but not surprised.” Her eyes slowly run up and down my body with disgust before she adds, “You guys get treated like fucking royalty because you have a dick. While those of us with tits should be rewarded for not stabbing you bastards while you sleep.” With that, she spins around, and pieces of her hair slaps me in the face before she storms down the stairs.

Moments later, I hear a door slam, and I’m guessing she’s in my bedroom. I could go in there, strip her naked, force her to crawl to me, and fuck her until she can’t speak. But I won’t. I’ll save that for later.

Instead, I return to my office downstairs and review the security cameras I have at her house. I go back over the past month. I see myself walking right in her front door while she’s sleeping in bed. I make my way down to her basement, where I spent several days getting it ready.

Then I fast-forward through some of it. I rewind here and there, trying to find any kind of hint about who the hell might have been following her today. But no bike other than mine even drives by her place. Plus, a code is required to access her driveway.

I should have put cameras on her SUV. I thought the tracker would be enough.

Three hours later, my head hurts, and I rub my heavy eyes. I turn off my computer and get up. Walking over to the minibar, I pour myself a glass of bourbon, needing something a little extra tonight besides a cigarette. Exiting my office, I stop when the smell of food hits my nose.

I walk down the hall to see the dining room table set for two. She’s standing in the kitchen. Her eyes meet mine before they drop to the floor. “I thought you might be hungry,” she says softly.

“Starving,” I tell her, and she smiles, her eyes meeting mine once again.

“I hope you like Italian.”

“I do.”

She picks up two plates and walks over to the table, setting them down. “I had to substitute a couple of things, but for the most part, you had what I needed.”

“Smells delicious.”

She makes her way back to the wine fridge and pops open one, pouring herself a glass to the rim. Then she carries the bottle over to the table with her. Sitting down, she brings the glass to her lips and sucks it down until it’s empty. As if she needs the liquid courage to sit through dinner with me. She will need way more than that to sleep in my bed.

When she picks up the wine bottle and goes to refill it, I pick up the glass, causing the wine to spill onto the table and floor. “What the hell?” she barks, glaring up at me.

“One glass is enough,” I tell her.

“Haidyn,” she growls, and it’s so cute.

“After dinner, you’re going to undress yourself, and I’m going to tie you to my bed.” Her eyes widen at my words. “I’m going to gag you, and I’d prefer you not to be so drunk that you choke on your vomit. But if that’s the way you want to go…” I shrug. “That’s on you.” With that, I pick up my bourbon.

She straightens out her arm, putting the wine bottle as far away from her as possible, and I don’t even try to hide my smile.