He offered only a half-hearted nod to my step-brothers. The gallery applauded as he crossed the floor to greet an older man enamored by a soft painting of a nude woman tangled in flowing silk.
“He’s…friendly,” Reed said.
I pretended to be interested in my champagne. “He’s loyal to my family. He was best friends with my brothers, and he understood exactly how much trouble Darius caused the farm.”
“He has a particular style.” Nicholas admired a painted image of a naked woman captured and struggling within bands of light. “It’s a theme, apparently.”
Max pointed to his favorite—a darker canvas featuring a woman completely restrained in ropes. “I like it.”
I was certain all of my step-brothers enjoyed these particular desires. I flushed.
“Just his style. Everything is sensual with Atlas.” I bit my lip, glancing over the gallery. “I used to have such a crush on him when I was younger.”
Reed rolled his eyes. “So that’s why we’re here. Better learn how to sketch, Nick.”
I said nothing, avoiding the conversation to search for the commissioned painting. It wasn’t hard to find. In a room filled with carnal poses and vibrant, passionate murals, the lone landscape reserved a place of honor.
“That’s your farm,” Reed said.
I stared at the brushes of green, strokes of gold, and bursting reds. The corn, the barn, and house. It was all there, in picture perfect quality. Despite the hundreds of thousands of acres spread over California and the cattle ranches in Nevada, that farmhouse, that little section of soil, crop, and sky was everything my brothers and I believed our family was.
It wasn’t about the money or the governmental lobbyists or the charity events.
It was about the land.
The painting showed a simplicity that no longer existed. My family was destroyed. My future threatened. My innocence stolen.
It wasn’t an end, just another challenge. My family didn’t thrive because it was easy. My ancestors tilled every acre by hand, harvested crops in hail storms, and drew strength from the sun-parched, drought-stricken dirt. Every hardship was an opportunity to survive.
My life was suddenly one hell of an opportunity.
Max’s graveled question wasn’t meant as a warning, but my body laced with a chilled sickness.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
I didn’t look.
After that night, I now felt when the monster entered a room—as though the lights dipped, the temperature plummeted, and every sound, every movement focused the attention on me.
I imagined everyone knew. That they could see me, through me, imagine me without the dress and picture me bruised, bloodied, and covered in a man’s sweat.
A part of me begged to run.
I denied it.
No more cowering. No more hiding. No more clinging to the shadows and praying he wasn’t stalking me in the darkness.
“We’re leaving,” Nicholas said. “We’ll find another exit.”
No, we weren’t. Not until I faced him.
I expected tooth and claw, horn and hoof, but his true evil was veiled in secrecy. The greying, older man cloaked himself in a raw dignity earned at the expense of those he humiliated. He wasn’t ugly—not physically, but it was only because I saw so much of his sons in his features.
Reed’s nose. Max’s shoulders.
Nick’s…everything.
The strong angles and hard jawline that drew me to Nicholas mirrored in the mask of humanity his father wore. Both men were dangerous. Only one vowed to hurt me.
And he did. But it was over. I’d make sure it never happened again.
Darius Bennett raped me. He left me bruised, terrified, and sick with dread. The baby I carried might have belonged to him.
But now? He could do nothing else to me. I hit rock bottom, and landed on my feet, prepared to fight, kick, and claw my way out of this shame. Darius thought he won. The bastard didn’t realize the strength he gave me. I was beyond their evil now. I endured it. Every beat of my heart, every shed tear, every last scar I bore would forever damn him in his own arrogance.
I carried a Bennett heir. If he harmed me, he’d only hurt his own blood and ruin the Bennett legacy.
I was no longer the Sarah Atwood fretting over coursework and mourning her lost family. I wasn’t the captured girl denying her pleasure. I wasn’t the lost victim huddled in dingy hotels while hiding the truth about the life inside me.
The terror, pain, and suffering hadn’t destroyed me. Darius Bennett could do nothing to me that I hadn’t already survived.
I wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
But he would forever fear me.
I clutched the untasted champagne flute with fingers clenched white. My voice lowered, strengthened with a newfound confidence.
“Let’s go greet Daddy.”
I stormed the gallery with my step-brothers rushing to my side. Darius saw me before I reached him, those loathsome brown eyes meeting mine with utter vindication.
He was more intimidating within arm’s reach, but I dared him to force me to my knees in the middle of the crowded gallery. He didn’t touch me. But he looked.
His stare drank over my body, like he savored a rich wine. I waited for him to spit it out, used and wasted, like every other tasting he had of me.
He didn’t.
He enjoyed me. His prickling attention lingered over my plumped chest.
“Sarah, my dear.” His voice sliced me, flaying my skin like the belt he used to subdue me. “What in the world happened to you? I’ve been worried sick.”
“I’ve been traveling,” I said. Nicholas edged me into the safety of my step-brothers’ reach. “What are you doing here?”
“You don’t call, you don’t write...” He tore his gaze from my chest. “Your mother was so concerned that poor Atlas Chase would have no Atwoods to collect his painting. She sent me. I’m glad I came for you.” He nodded to Nicholas. “I suppose I should thank you for returning your sister home?”
“I returned on my own,” I said.
“Did you?” His words thickened over his fat tongue. “What a brave little whore.”
Max attempted to pull me away. Reed stepped between us.
Nicholas and I stood still.
And I waited as the nausea swelled.
He wouldn’t tell them what he had done. Not here. Not now. Darius meant to keep the assault secret until it benefited him, just as I’d keep my silence to protect the men it’d drive to madness.
“I’ve missed you, Sarah,” he said. “It was not my intent for my only daughter to run away from her family.”
“I never doubted any of your intentions.”
“Then you should know how much I regret letting you slip from my grasp.” His lips twisted into a smile. “I should have broken your legs when I had the chance.”
He tried. It took weeks for the bruises to fade.
“We’re leaving.” Nicholas’s warning would chill my champagne. “This is over.”
I refused to let another Bennett seize my hand and force me after them, even Nicholas. “We have a few matters to discuss.”
Darius agreed. “Let’s go home then. We’ll have a nice conversation before your punishment.”
“I am not selling my shares of the Bennett Corporation.”
Max and Reed swore. Nicholas didn’t react.
“If you refuse to sell, I can no longer protect you,” Darius said.
“You never protected me.”
“I left you alive, didn’t I?”
“Hardly.”
“A testament to my restraint.”
“You have none.”
“Why would I use brute force with you, my dear?” His voice hardened. So did other parts of him. “A pillow does quite nicely.”
Too much. I trembled. My step-brothers frowned, but they didn’t know the pleasure Darius took siphoning my breath and suffocating me within the same sheets where Nicholas and I tangled in beautiful passion.
I wouldn’t let him intimidate me. Not within a roomful of strangers, not in front of my step-brothers.
“I will retain my control of the Bennett Corporation,” I said. “Though my schedule is quite inflexible. I won’t return to the headquarters and will instead require a web connection during all board meetings. My votes will cast via the internet or by Nicholas’s proxy.”