Counsellor (Acquisition Series Book 1) (2 page)

Vinemont’s cold gaze appraised every inch of my body. “Stella.”

I’d never heard him say my name. He spoke it with his signature arrogance, as if just uttering the word was somehow beneath him.

I scowled. “What is this? What are you doing here?”

“I was just discussing a business arrangement with your father. He doesn’t seem inclined to accept my terms, so I thought I would run them past you. See if I got a different result.”

“Get out,” I hissed.

He smirked, though there was no joy in his eyes, just an inscrutable coldness that radiated out and made my skin tingle.

“I think you should leave.” Dad’s voice broke on the last word.

“Do you, now?” Vinemont never took his eyes from me. “Before I’ve had the chance to give Stella the particulars?”

I put my shaking hands on the back of my father’s chair. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Mr. Vinemont should be leaving.” My father’s voice grew a bit stronger.

“Y-you can’t be here talking to my father without his attorney.” I forced the tremor to leave my voice. “I know the law, Vinemont.”

Vinemont shrugged, his impeccable dark gray suit rising and falling with the movement. “If you aren’t interested in keeping your father out of prison, then I’ll go.”

He didn’t move, simply watched me with the same dark intensity. Goosebumps rose along the back of my neck and shoulders.

What is this?

“What do you mean?” I asked. “How?”

“As I was just explaining to your father, I have a certain deal to offer. If you accept it, then he’ll stay out of prison. If not, then he’ll be going away for the maximum sentence—fifteen years.”

“A plea deal? But you’ve refused this whole time to make any deal at all.” My voice rose, anger influencing every word. “You were in the papers, telling anyone and everyone that you would do nothing short of seeing my father rotting in prison.”

“Plea deal? I never said anything about a plea deal. I didn’t realize you were this foolish.” He steepled his fingers and canted his head to the side. He looked like Satan, the firelight dancing along his strong features. “No, Stella. I already have a conviction, nothing left but sentencing for him. And I have no doubt he’ll get the max. I’ve made sure of it.”

He spoke as if I was a small, slow child in need of extra after-school help.

“Then what? What are you offering?” My hands fisted, my fingernails digging into my palms. “And what do you want in return?”

“Ding ding ding, she finally catches on.” His smirk grew into a wicked grin that chilled every chamber of my heart. His teeth were even and white. If there had been actual warmth in the smile, he would have been beautiful. Instead, he was the monster from my nightmares.

“The deal is simple. Even simple enough for you to understand, Stella.” He reached into his inner suit coat pocket and drew out a folded sheaf of papers with some sort of wax seal. “All you have to do is sign this and your father will never see the inside of a prison cell.”

“No. I’ve heard enough. Get out of my house.” My father stood and came around the chair to stand by my side.

Vinemont finally tore his gaze from me and glowered at my father. “Are you certain, Mr. Rousseau? You do realize that a Louisiana prison is hell on earth as it is, but I have ways to make it even more unbearable. Cell mates and such? It would be a shame for you to get paired with a violent—or amorous—sort, especially at your age. You wouldn’t last long. Maybe a month or two until you broke. And after you’re broken, well, let’s just say the prison system isn’t exactly known for spending medical dollars on old, decrepit thieves.”

“Get out!” My father’s voice rang out stronger than I’d ever heard it, even as he trembled next to me.

Vinemont’s smile never faltered. “Fine. See you in court.”

He tucked the papers back into his coat, rose, and strode from the room. Confidence permeated his movements as he stalked out like some big, dangerous animal. The sureness of his words, the conviction of his gait left me feeling at once chilled yet burning to know why he’d come.

What the hell is going on?

When he was gone, I was finally able to take a full breath. I clutched the back of the chair. “What was that?”

My father pulled me into his chest, his familiar smell of tobacco and books cutting through Vinemont’s more seductive scent. He was quaking violently. “No. Nothing. Forget about it. About him.”

“What did he want? What was in those papers?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. If it has anything to do with you, I don’t want it. I don’t want him near you.”

I leaned away and looked into my father’s eyes. He didn’t meet my gaze, only watched the fire behind me the same way he would stare into my paintings. He studied something far away, past the flames and the bricks and the mortar.

Fatigue was written in every line on his face. Not even the flickering orange glow could hide how drained, how frightened he truly was. He hadn’t looked this haunted since the night he found me lying on the floor, almost two years ago. I rubbed my eyes, trying to erase his fear and the memories from my mind.

He let out a labored groan and fell back against the chair.

“Dylan!” I called.

My stepbrother appeared in the doorway within moments. “What’s going on? Was that the dick prosecutor I passed in the hall?”

“It doesn’t matter, just please help Dad to his room. He needs to rest.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Dad clutched me to him again, his grasp weaker, fading. “I love you, Stella. Don’t forget that. No matter what happens tomorrow.”

I forced my heart to stay together. If it shattered, I would be of no use. I couldn’t become a quivering heap of regret, not yet. Not until I found out what Sinclair Vinemont wanted from me.

Chapter Three

Sinclair

I tapped my
fingers along the top of my thigh as I waited. I hated waiting. Something about it made me itch to do something, anything, to keep my life moving. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. Given my history, most likely bad.

I wouldn’t have to wait long. I knew she would come. The dutiful daughter, rushing after any salvation for her father she could find. Poor little idiot. Salvation had a price—the highest one imaginable—and I knew she would pay it the moment I first laid eyes on her.

She’d been sitting at her father’s side at his arraignment. Her red hair had been pulled back in a tight bun and she wore a black suit, as if she were in mourning. She wasn’t. Not yet. She would be soon enough. I’d caught sight of her as I walked through the door from Judge Montagnet’s chambers.

It had been immediate—I wanted her. More than that, I wanted to break her, to make her mine and take everything from her until I was the only thing she thought, or dreamed, or breathed.

She seemed easily breakable. Her pale skin and delicate wrists with the tell-tale scars were like a lure to me, and her understated curves would look perfect when reddened by my hand or belt. But my momentary infatuation faded with each step closer I came to her downcast eyes. She’d be too easy, too quickly cowed and brought to heel. She wasn’t a challenge, and I wouldn’t waste my time.

But then she’d looked at me. Her eyes were fire, heat, hate. I wanted to stoke the flames, to make her despise me with even more ferocity. I knew how to get her there, to drag her down into the darkness and twist her beyond recognition. I would do it, too. There was no longer an ‘if’, only a ‘when’. Things had been set in motion that were beyond even my control. She was my Acquisition.

I shifted in my seat and willed her to come to me. The sooner the ink dried on our deal, the sooner I could begin her education. The front door of the Rousseau estate opened, casting yellow rays of light onto the wide, curved stoop. Her small figure took the few steps down the stairs, and she strode toward my car with purpose. I couldn’t see her face in the dark, but her movements were enough. She had steeled herself for this, strengthened every fiber of her being. I would tear it down piece by piece until she was naked, shivering, and begging for more.

My driver, Luke, got out and opened the back passenger door for her. She slid in next to me, though she took care to come no nearer than absolutely necessary. She still wore the light blue blouse and black skirt from earlier. The coat was gone, and she’d put on some unbecoming flats. I frowned.

“I should’ve known you’d be waiting out here like a spider.”

I smiled at her. She would come to regret that statement. “What can I do for you, Stella?”

“What’s this deal?”

I reached into my coat pocket and she jumped. She pressed herself back into the car door. Her fear made my cock spring to attention, annoying me. This wasn’t about fucking her. This was about defiling her. Destroying her. Adding her to a gruesome menagerie.

“As I said before, Stella, it’s simple.” I drew the document from my pocket and handed it to her.

She looked at it as if it were a particularly venomous snake before darting her hand out and taking it.

“Luke.” At my command, my driver flipped on the interior lights.

Stella turned the documents over in her hand and stared at the large ‘V’ wax seal, covered in the classic vines that adorned the Vinemont crest and estate. “What is it?”

“A contract.”

Her gaze shot up. She had dark half-moons under her eyes, and her skin seemed almost sallow in this light. She was worn down, or at least she thought she was. This was nothing compared to the coming months.

She studied my mask. Finding nothing there to enlighten her, she broke the seal and unfolded the contract. I’d written it myself in perfect calligraphy. She read through the recitals on the first page, which stated the parties to the contract, dates, duration, and other boring particulars.

“One year?” She said it to herself more than to me as she flipped to the second page.

Her eyes grew wider with each line she read, until a look of utter horror painted her face. It was beautiful. The paper shook as a tremor settled into her hands. She finished the page and flipped once more. The last page was simply for her signature.

It seemed impossible, but she shrank even further back, melding herself against the leather and metal of the car door. “You can’t do this.” Her eyes were glassy, fearful.

“I’m not doing anything. I’ve simply presented you with terms. You can agree to them or not. It’s up to you.”

“What will happen if I don’t agree?”

“That’s the question of a child, Stella. Worse, you already know the answer to it.”

Her chin shook and her green eyes welled. “You’ll send my father to prison.”

“No, I’ll make sure your father
dies
in prison.”

Her breath left her so quickly it was as if I’d punched her in the gut. And I had, in a way.

She recovered, though her voice was no more than a whisper. “But if I do agree—”

“Then you are mine for one year. To do with as I please when I please. You will live with me at the Vinemont estate. You will do as you’re told. You will serve me and whoever else I want. I will own you, body and soul.”

Though she trembled, she lifted her chin the slightest bit. “No one can own my soul.”

I already do
. “What’s it going to be, Stella? This offer is quite time sensitive. Your father’s sentencing is at eight a.m. sharp. And it’s,” I made a show of checking my watch, “ten fifteen p.m. right now. Tick tock.”

“How do I even know you have the power to do this? How do I know you’ll do what you say? I’m supposed to take the word of a man like you?”

A flame of anger licked around my heart. “Are you questioning my honor, Stella? I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She laughed, the sound shaded with exhaustion. “What is the word of a man like you worth? What sort of man presents someone with a slave contract and says ‘sign it or your father dies in prison’? This isn’t even enforceable. I may not be a
counsellor
, but even I know that.”

She threw the pages back at me, adding more to her punishment. She was already poised to endure more pain in the next twelve months than she had for her entire sheltered life.

I neatly arranged the papers and pulled the final document from my coat pocket. This was sealed with a wax ‘M’. I held it out to her. She ripped it from my hand and tore through the seal.

When her face fell, I was disappointed. No more fight? No disbelief? No amazement at how completely I’d caught her in my trap? Instead, she just looked defeated. She
was
defeated, of course, but would it hurt her to lament her situation a bit more loudly?

“Judge Montagnet?” Her voice was barely audible now.

“Old family friend. You see, in this parish, old money has its own ways. This happens to be one of them. The North may have won the war, but slavery has always been in vogue around these parts. I don’t choose based on color. That’s barbaric. I choose based on certain other factors.”

“Like what? Finding someone who will do anything to save the father she loves? Desperation? Is that it, you sick fuck?” The fire in her eyes was indulgent, alive.

Her punishments were adding up each time she opened her lips. Too bad I wouldn’t taste them for a while yet. Not until she was broken beyond all repair and begged me to take her.

“Not quite. But that’s all you need to know for now. What I need to know is whether you agree to my terms. As you see, Judge Montagnet has agreed to suspend your father’s sentence for the year’s time you agree to be mine. If at any time you breach this contract, Montagnet will immediately sentence your father and have him taken to the prison of my choosing. I rather like Dunwoody—no air conditioning and a widespread rodent infestation.” I waited a beat, just to let the idea of rats crawling over her father while he slept sink into her mind. Then I continued, “So, as I’ve said from the start, it’s up to you. The choice is yours.”

I handed her back the contract. She took it, though I still wasn’t sure if she’d rip it to pieces before my eyes. Her anger was unpredictable, wild. I wanted to taste it, take it in and relish it.

“Choice? You call this a choice?” She pushed her hair behind her ear in a violent movement.

“That’s exactly what it is. Don’t sign. Let your father meet his fate. Or do sign, and give him a total reprieve.” I relaxed back into my seat, though I kept my gaze on her.

She chewed her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. She didn’t seem to notice. I wanted to run my thumb across her mouth and sample the flavor.

She stared past me, back into the warm light cascading through the front door of her house. “I can’t decide on this right now. I need to get out of here. Away from you.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Stella. I’m an early riser and, what with how late it already is, I’ll need to be getting back home. So, you either stay here and I’ll see you at the sentencing, or you come with me now and put the whole unpleasantness of the court system behind you and your father.”

I smiled.

She cringed. Perfection.

I couldn’t let her out of the car, not now that she was so close to signing. I could tell she was standing at the edge of the precipice, looking over the side and pondering the jump. Would the fall kill her?
Perhaps
.

She dropped her gaze to her lap. “How can you do this? You’re supposed to uphold the law.”

My hand itched to slap her for such a foolish question. For the pure naïve idiocy of it. But she wasn’t mine yet.

“Public offices like mine are just a remnant of the
noblesse oblige
. It means nothing to me or my family. We couldn’t care less if people like you rape and murder each other, or get hooked on drugs, or hurt their own kind. Enough questions. What’s it going to be, Stella?”

“People like me?” Her eyes, shimmering with tears, found mine again.

My anger had reached its zenith. Her futile display of emotion wasn’t going to change my plans. Nothing would. “For fuck’s sake, Stella, sign it!”

She recoiled at my words and turned to open the car door.

Shit
. I forced myself to remain still. I wanted to grab her by the hair and drag her to me. I didn’t. I let her finally find and pull the handle before she ran away and back into the house. The door slammed behind her, smothering the yellow light and leaving everything dark.