She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

Adrian’s eyes tracked the direction where Amanda had disappeared with that gigolo, watching until they vanished completely into the manor’s interior.

His anger from the previous confrontation had subsided, leaving something colder in its wake.

Contempt.

Pure, distilled contempt for that assistant who’d dismissed him like he was invisible.

Like his presence meant nothing. Like he was some irrelevant annoyance rather than the future husband of her boss.

’How dare she.’

The memory of her expression — that barely concealed disdain, the way she’d looked through him rather than at him — made his jaw tighten.

’You don’t know, do you?’

Adrian’s lips curved into something sharp and humorless.

’You have no idea that your precious boss is going to come crawling to my door tonight. Begging. Apologizing for every dismissive word. Every rejection. Every moment she made me feel like I was beneath her.’

The fantasy crystallized with vicious clarity.

Catherine on her knees outside his quarters, pride finally shattered by political necessity.

And Amanda…

’I’ll make sure you’re there to see it.’

’Make sure you watch Catherine Blackwood… brilliant, untouchable Catherine… accept that she belongs to me now.’

’Then we’ll see if you keep that same contempt in your eyes.’

His imagination darkened, turned possessive in ways that would have shamed him months ago.

’And when I’ve claimed Catherine… when she’s mine completely and everyone knows it…’

’I’ll claim you too.’

The thought sent heat through his chest… not love, not even really desire, but something closer to vindictive satisfaction.

’Isn’t the servant of my wife my servant too?’

’You’ll scream my name the same way she will.’

’You’ll learn the same lesson about respect.’

’About consequences. About what happens when you forget your place.’

Adrian savored the fantasy for a moment longer before forcing himself to release it.

Later.

First Catherine. Then everything else falls into place.

He turned away from where Amanda had vanished, deciding to let the matter rest for now.

No point dwelling on an assistant’s disrespect when tonight would prove everything.

Instead, his mind drifted back to Catherine… to the confrontation in her office, the way she’d smiled when he’d finally stopped pretending.

’You don’t love me?’

His own voice echoed in memory, bitter and raw.

’So what?’

’Love was never the point.’

Adrian’s hands clenched at his sides, satisfaction burning hotter.

’I’ll make you worship me instead.’

The distinction felt important. Necessary.

Love was weakness. Love was what he’d offered for twelve months and gotten nothing but rejection in return.

But worship?

’Worship is earned through strength.’

’Through demonstrating exactly who holds the power.’

’Through making someone understand… in the most fundamental way possible… that resistance is pointless.’

His imagination supplied scenarios with disturbing detail.

Catherine bent over his desk, dress hiked up, finally admitting she’d been wrong about everything.

Catherine in his bed, voice breaking as she confessed that his father was right… that she needed a strong hand to guide her.

Catherine at formal dinners, sitting at his side with that perfect composure intact but everyone knowing what happened behind closed doors.

’I’ll break that pride.’

’Not all at once… that would be too easy. ’

’But piece by piece. Night after night. Until she accepts that fighting me was the mistake.’

’Until she begs for the privilege of serving me.’

The thoughts should have disturbed him. Some part of Adrian’s mind recognized they’d crossed lines that couldn’t be uncrossed.

But that voice was distant now. Drowned out by twelve months of rejection and three days of his father’s impossible deadline and the humiliation of Catherine’s dismissal.

’She made this necessary.’

’If she’d just accepted what we both knew from the beginning…’

’If she’d just acknowledged that our marriage was inevitable and stopped fighting…’

’Then I wouldn’t need to teach her this lesson.’

Adrian’s thoughts shifted to his father… Royce Blackwell’s stern features and voice that never quite showed approval.

“Three days.”

The deadline had seemed impossible when his father first issued it.

Seduce Catherine Blackwood in seventy-two hours? Make her his? Secure the marriage alliance that would cement Blackwell influence over House Blackwood’s succession?

Impossible.

Except…

I’m going to do it.

Tonight.

The realization sent something close to euphoria through his chest.

His father would be forced to see him differently. Forced to acknowledge that Adrian wasn’t just the overindulged heir everyone assumed.

He could execute on impossible timelines when he stopped playing nice and started taking what he wanted.

“You actually did it.”

He could already hear his father’s voice… grudging at first, then warming into something that might almost be pride.

“Catherine Blackwood bent to your will. I underestimated you, son.”

“You accomplished what three generations of Blackwells couldn’t… direct control over House Blackwood’s future.”

The fantasy tasted sweet.

’I’ll prove everyone wrong.’

’Catherine. Father. Every vassal family head who’s ever looked at me and seen weakness.’

’They’ll all understand tonight that I’m not someone to dismiss.’

’I’m a man who gets what he wants.’

’No matter what it takes.’

But then his thoughts snagged on something else.

Someone else.

That gigolo.

Adrian’s satisfaction curdled into something uglier.

The memory of that man’s face… calm, unbothered, almost amused when Adrian had confronted him… made his jaw clench hard enough to hurt.

’How dare you.’

’How dare you stand on Blackwood grounds and speak about Catherine like you have any right to her name in your mouth.’

The disrespect was intolerable.

Not just to Adrian personally, though that was bad enough.

But to Catherine herself. To House Blackwood. To everything that name represented.

’And you… you’re nobody.’

’Victoria’s temporary entertainment.’

Adrian’s hands flexed, cultivation base responding to emotional surge with eager readiness.

“Hehe.”

The sound escaped him… not quite laughter, more like anticipation of violence.

’I’ll make you beg to die before you leave these grounds.’

’Every word you spoke about my Catherine…’

’Every moment you stood there looking at me like I was the one out of place…’

’I’ll carve the apology out of your flesh.’

’Make you scream it until your voice breaks.’

’Until you understand exactly what happens when you disrespect a Blackwell.’

The fantasy was darker than his thoughts about Catherine. More violent. Less controlled.

Because Catherine was his future… something to claim and possess and demonstrate ownership over.

But that gigolo?

He’s just an obstacle.

Something to remove.

To destroy as a warning to anyone else who might forget their place.

Adrian’s thoughts fractured as awareness returned to his immediate surroundings.

’Where is he?’

The question formed with sudden impatience.

Amanda had led that man into the manor’s interior… toward the private areas where Catherine conducted sensitive business.

That was… what? Thirty minutes ago? Forty?

’What’s taking so long?’

Irritation spiked through Adrian’s chest.

’Unless they’re discussing me.’

The possibility brought grim satisfaction.

’Let them talk.’

’Let Catherine complain to her assistant about how harsh I was. How unreasonable.’

’It won’t change what happens tonight.’

But the waiting grated against his nerves.

He’d expected… something. Some response. Some acknowledgment of what had happened in that office.

Instead—silence.

’She’s testing me.’

’Seeing if I’ll crack. If I’ll come back apologizing.’

’If I’ll prove that my strength was performance rather than reality.’

Adrian’s resolve hardened.

’Not a chance.’

’I gave her until evening. I’ll wait exactly that long.’

’And when she comes…’

His imagination supplied the rest, but this time something felt off.

The fantasy wasn’t as satisfying as it should be.

Like his mind was trying to warn him about something his pride refused to acknowledge.

Adrian dismissed the feeling.

’Just nerves. Natural before something this important.’

He turned his attention to Lucan and Seraphine, both standing in professional silence several feet away.

“I need to handle something important,” Adrian said, voice carrying easy authority despite the tension coiling in his chest.

“Keep watch here.”

Lucan nodded once, acknowledgment without commentary or question.

Professional. Efficient. Exactly what Adrian expected from competent security.

But Seraphine smiled.

Her lips curved with knowledge she wasn’t sharing, amusement dancing in eyes that suggested she knew something Adrian didn’t.

“Of course,” she murmured, voice carrying layers he couldn’t quite parse. “Take all the time you need.”

Adrian turned away, dismissing both guards from his thoughts.

His boots struck stone as he moved toward the manor’s interior, retracing the path Amanda had taken with that gigolo.

Behind him, still standing in professional silence, Seraphina’s smile widened just slightly.

Her eyes tracked Adrian’s retreating figure with expression that suggested she knew exactly what he was about to discover.

And she was very much looking forward to watching it happen.

Lucan glanced at her, one eyebrow raised in silent question.

Seraphina said nothing.

Just smiled.

And waited.