Page 102 of Reign of the Queen
I'm so lost in the memory of this morning that I don't realize I've made it halfway across Casbury from Mia's house, and I'm rapidly coming closer to the Saint-Lambert estate. I need to get my head out of the Mia clouds and start thinking about how I'm going to diffuse the situation with my father. I know whatever he has planned for me in retribution for my actions will be painful and probably leave lasting scars. That's if I make it out alive, there's always the chance that this time he will lose complete control. His expression as he left Mia's house pretty much guaranteed it.
I tap the side of the gray hoodie Tom gave me this morning with the built-in hidden panel that holds the gun I had been practicing with yesterday. At least I know if things go to complete shit, I have something that will hopefully stop him from killing me outright.
After all the years of abuse, violence, and degradation my father has made me suffer, I always thought that if I had the slightest chance, I would kill him happily. Now that I may have the opportunity, I'm both distraught at killing my only living parent and antsy in anticipation of being finally free of him.
The gates to the estate are wide open as I pull into the driveway, and unease skates down my back. He's waiting for me. Today's a work and school day, but I guess neither will happen if Vincent Saint-Lambert is waiting for his pound of flesh. I wonder how worked up he's gotten himself since leaving Mia's house yesterday. I instantly feel remorse for whoever has had to endure his rage in my stead.Fuck, I hope they're still alive.
Parking the car in the garage, I walk in through the entrance to the house. The house is silent like a tomb, not a single sound other than my shoes hitting the polished stone floors. I walk to the front entryway and up the stairs heading to my wing. As I climb the stairs, I can see that he went at the furniture and statues at the top of the landing with his rage, most of them broken and sitting in destroyed heaps along the walls.Damn.
Walking along the corridor, I reach the doors to my wing. They are entirely smashed and hanging half off their hinges. Holy shit, those are solid wood doors that weigh over two hundred pounds each. I guess he couldn't get past my electronic lock, so he broke the damn doors down instead. Pushing one of the broken doors out of the way, I make my way into my suite. Looking around, I see that he took his rage out on my room. Everything has been thrown around, and most of my stuff is broken. The television on the wall is shattered. My clothes have been ripped out of my closet and are all over the place, and my massive king mattress is leaning sideways against one of the walls.
I walk farther into the room, and a faint sound catches my attention. My eyes automatically flicker to the darkest part of the room. The curtains are shut, but a patch of sunlight has managed to stream into the room from a sliver where they are not closed all the way. My father is sitting in one of my club chairs, like a psychotic, mad king, legs spread wide open. The top button of his dress pants undone, bare-chested, and a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
That alone should scare the hell out of me, but the sound that I heard came from the bound and bloodied naked girl at his feet. Even from a distance, I can tell she's all bruised up and bleeding from numerous cuts and abrasions. He has her hogtied; her mouth is gagged with blood smeared across her delicate features. One of her eyes is completely swollen shut and black.Holy shit.
"Ah, the spawn has returned to his master. Tell me, son, am I still your master, or are you a puppet of the Stratford's now?" He takes a deep swallow of the liquid in the glass; I'm guessing it's his favorite eighteen-hundred-dollar scotch.Fuck, I wonder if he's been drinking all night?
I try to give him a bored look and tone, even though my heart is racing in my chest. "Was this all really necessary?" I motion to the mess around the room.
"Answer the question, Theodore. Are you still a Saint-Lambert, or are you now a Stratford, boot licking little cunt?" His grip clenches hard around the cup.
"I am no one's boot licker, and of course I'm still a Saint-Lambert. I am the heir, aren't I? I also don't appreciate you trashing my room, father." I have to try to calm him down, but I also can't show him any weakness. I don't bother to show the girl on the floor any attention. That's what he wants and expects me to do.Fuck you, motherfucker. I know how to play your game.
"Why did you run with Carter, Theodore? And to all places, that fucking bitch Stratford?" Vincent takes the last sip of his amber liquid and then throws the crystal cup across the room, where it shatters against my pale gray wall. The girl tied on the floor flinches at the sound of the glass shattering.
"You know why I took him; Mack would have killed him, and you wouldn't have stopped him." I take the seat across from my father after righting the chair that was on its side.
My father watches my every movement intently. "What Mack does with his offspring is not our concern Theodore. You deprived him of his right to discipline Carter, and you purposely took him somewhere out of my reach."
"Yes, I took him, and yes, I defied you, but did you not wonder if maybe I had an ulterior motive? You're far too intelligent and devious not to see through my moves, father. Maybe I wanted to see the defenses the Stratford’s have? Didn't you always teach me to know my enemy? Perhaps I used it as an opportunity?" I lean back in the chair, showing confidence to him that I don't feel internally.
"An opportunity? To what extent? To sleep with that defiant wisp of a girl, Mia?" He smirks back at me.
I grin right back at him; I know he was intrigued by Mia's defiance and strength. I know he would love to get his filthy, depraved hands on her.Fuck that shit, I’ll put a bullet in his head first.
"Yeah, I fucked her, over and over again. Isn't that what you would have wanted and done yourself, given the opportunity? A Stratford so completely enthralled she would not only put herself in harm's way but risk her family and show her hand?"
He stares me down from his seat, his penetrating blue gaze trying to see into my guarded secrets. "You're right. I would have used any opportunity to bring that girl to heel and see what her family's defenses were, but you're not me, Theodore. You're weak. You let concern for others cloud your judgment."
"Nothing and no one is clouding my judgment. I'm a Saint-Lambert. I used the opportunity to get in where I wouldn't have been able to otherwise and to manipulate the situation. So be it if I got my dick wet in the process."
"If that's the case, what did you learn?" Vincent leans forward in his seat, his hand absentmindedly running through the matted dark strands of the girl on the floor. I can see the absolute terror in her eyes at his touch, but I ignore her pleading look, turning my gaze away from her and only to my father. My stomach is clenched tight, one wrong move and he’ll hurt her even more or worse make me do it for him.
"Mia Stratford, while powerful is tender-hearted, she took us in without a moment's hesitation. Her weakness is hurt and damaged people. Once we were inside the gates, her grandmother had them fortified with a tactical team and came running from Manhattan to protect her precious granddaughter."I tell him what he already knows. I know he had someone watching Mia’s house.
"I see, and how is that useful to us?" Vincent removes the gag from the girl's mouth and pulls her face to his lap. I can see all the bruises and welts marked across her back as she strains in the bindings, trying to comply with where he's pulling her. He's sitting there hard, the sick fuck, his cock tenting the zipper of his pants.
"It's useful because Mia will be the key to controlling the Stratford’s. I'm sure that you have always wanted insight into that powerful, secretive family. I'll bet my inheritance that you even wanted a way in so we can slowly control or destroy them." I let an evil grin cross my face.
"I'mthat in, and so is Carter. Mia is completely infatuated with us. She will forgo self-preservation and common fucking sense where the two of us are concerned, maybe the four of us, really. I know she put herself at great risk for Carter and me without hesitation. Stella Stratford denies her nothing, letting her have her heart's desire. You saw how she came out fighting to defend her granddaughter and us by extension."
Vincent pulls his zipper down and his pants apart, his hard swollen cock springing forward in his lap. He drags the girl, who can't resist with the way she's tied up, to his lap by the fistful of hair he's holding. "Open," he commands, and she immediately obeys. Her lips are already swollen and bleeding, but she takes a mouthful of his cock anyways. He shoves her head down hard on his pelvis, forcing her to take all of him down her throat and gag. I watch as tears run down the side of her swollen face as he fucks into her mouth from below.
The rage inside me rises instantly, and I want to pull out the gun and shoot him in the fucking head right now. I try to calm my breathing. I know he has his despicable minions somewhere close by and that if I pull out the gun now, chances are I will get a bullet in my head as well.
The sounds of her harsh breathing and gagging threaten to bring up the cup of coffee I had before coming back to the house. I try not to show my discomfort and rage at what he's doing to that girl, but it's almost impossible. I don't know if she's one of his willing submissives, but she doesn't look like she's enjoying the degradation and pain he's putting her through.
I try to relax my body language and keep all emotions off my face, letting my cold mask settle over my features. Vincent is like a deadly poisonous serpent. He's testing me, trying to see how far he can push me, to see if he trusts and believes what I am telling him about my interactions with the Stratford’s.
