The Prey: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance (Oakmount Elite Book 3)

Several silent hours later, I find myself staring out the window on the opposite side of the plane as we land in Oakmount. I’ve had far too much time to think about what happened between Elyse and me and what I said to her when she finally broke the silence and asked her questions.

Now I feel like an asshole, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I mean, I’m supposed to be an asshole, but I can’t help the pang of guilt that stabs my chest every time I cut her down. The guilt is getting harder and harder to cover up.

Everything that could possibly go wrong is going wrong. I suppose there is hope, a silver lining in all of this being that we’re finally home, and I won’t be confined to this damn tin can with her a moment longer.

I’ve got enough shit on my plate without having to worry about Elyse having a psycho stalker, and even if it isn’t my problem, I’ve made it mine. After witnessing the way he talked about her, and touched her, I won’t rest until I find a way to make him disappear.

Adding Tanya into the mix just gives me a headache. I couldn’t have predicted how far she would go to secure her position in the Arturo family, but one thing is clear: Yanov was at Pound of Flesh because Tanya tipped him off.

Maybe I’ll call some old friends, let them know what’s coming their way

Tanya’s wily as fuck. She’s bound to have realized why I was so intent on going to the flesh market and parading Ely in front of Sidorov…none of which would have been advantageous for her. If I were to sell out to Sidorov, she’d stand to lose everything she’d become accustomed to. I knew she’d try to block me at some point; I just didn’t anticipate this particular move this soon.

How does she even know Sidorov? There was no reason for her to have ever attended Pound of Flesh; therefore, there was no reason for her to be in contact with him. I can’t wrap my head around all the things going on. There are too many moving pieces, and I’m starting to underestimate those closest to me. I need to get back on track.

And the first thing I need to do to ensure that happens is to keep Elyse as far away from me as possible.

The plane finally comes to a stop, and the flight attendant opens the door. Ely stands and slides past me, out the door, and down the small staircase in a flash. I follow her but keep my gaze alert. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of Yanov, not by a long shot. His obsession with her runs bone deep, and I’ll need to stay vigilant if I’m going to try to get rid of him.

Nevertheless, regardless of what I manipulate Elyse into believing he will never get his hands on her again. I make a mental note to get in touch with my PI. I need all the information available on him. It’s clear that fucker, Yanov, doesn’t know how powerful my family is, because if he did he wouldn’t be challenging me like he is.

It doesn’t matter, though. He might think I’m young, maybe even naive, but he has no idea who he’s fucking with. I’m not soft, nor am I empathetic. If you fuck with me, I will fuck you back, and I won’t use lube.

Ely is in the car, waiting and ready. I slip into the seat beside her, but she ignores me. Who’s giving who the silent treatment now? I guess I should be happy she’s not yapping my ear off, but for some reason, her silence infuriates me more now. The entire drive to the estate is filled with silence, and the pressure inside the car becomes suffocating.

Funny how silence isn’t silence at all. In fact, it’s just a space where unsaid words hover between two people. I can’t explain the relief I feel when we pull up the long driveway to the house. It’s so nice to be home, even if Tanya is here.

The car has barely come to a stop, and Ely is opening her door and hopping out. I follow more slowly. Not like she can get very far on the estate. I’ll give her a few minutes of alone time before I make my next demand. After all, the things that happened at Pound of Flesh changed nothing. She’s still the maid. I’m still her boss.

I clear the foyer and head directly to the kitchen for a proper drink. There’s a bar in my room, but I need an ice bucket and a lot of whiskey to recover from the past twenty-four hours.

Of course God couldn’t spare me a single second of peace. I’ve barely stepped into the kitchen when I spot Tanya braced against the countertop, her long hair hanging in shiny waves over one shoulder. I give her a brief glance, noticing she’s wearing a red dress that hugs her slender curves today. As I approach, she extends a perfectly manicured hand my way, and I look down to find a crystal glass filled with amber liquid.

Usually, I would ignore her and go to the bar to get my own drink. But right now, between Ely, Tanya, and the entire bottle of whiskey I killed on the plane, I’m not thinking straight.

I throw back the glass, set it on the counter, and head to the bar to get another one. “What do you want, Tanya, and let me preface this entire conversation with the fact that I’m not in the mood for your shit. Especially with the knowledge that you fucked up the deal I went all the way to London to make.”

She frowns. “So you didn’t sell your little friend then? Pity. I guess the maid I interviewed won’t be needed after all.”

I don’t answer because she’s not talking to me; she’s posturing. “Again, what do you fucking want?”

Standing up straight, she shifts the empty glass on the counter with a clink. “You will not speak to me that way. “

I meet her eyes over my fresh lowball glass. “Is that an order from the aunt, my adopted mother, or the woman who took my virginity?”

She snarls her lips at me. “Shut up. I’m telling you as the woman who will make your life hell if you don’t treat her with the respect she deserves.”

Exhaustion washes over me in a wave, and I can barely remain standing upright. It has to be jet lag. Definitely not the lack of sleep. Or the alcohol diluting my blood. “Hate to spoil it for you, but my life is already hell, and there’s nothing you can do to make it worse at this point.”

“Don’t be pitiful, Sebastian. It’s not very attractive, and I know you can do better. Let me know when you want to speak to me civilly.”

She sashays out of the kitchen leaving me with nothing but the click of her high heels on the floor. What-the-fuck-ever. I fill my glass to the rim with bourbon and take a massive gulp, letting it fill my belly with warmth. Once I’ve drunk close to half of it, I finally get up the strength to meander up to my room.

I’m so beyond done with this day. I want a hot shower and to fall face-first into my bed. I’ve just walked into my bedroom when my phone vibrates. I swear to fucking God, if it’s any one of my dickhead friends, I’m going to murder them.

Lucky for them, they’ll live to see another day since it’s only my head security guy, Rambo. He doesn’t text me often, so I take it seriously when he does.

Rambo: Someone is lingering outside the gate entrance.

With a sigh, I turn on my heels and head back downstairs.

It’s never a good thing when someone lingers outside your gate. People don’t do that…well, except for Drew. And that’s just because he doesn’t know when enough is enough. I jog down the stairs, counting the steps to distract myself, and then head out the front to go down the drive. As I get closer to the gate, my steps slow, and I slip on the invisible mask I’ve perfected from attending boring party after boring party.

The mask I wear as the older wives grope my ass, the mask I wear when I do anything I don’t want to do. I approach with my hands deep in my pocket, even if I want to have my knife clutched there. Better not escalate this unnecessarily…not yet.

I’m partially baffled and partially pissed to find Yanov standing on the other side of the gate, peering toward the house with a maniacal grin on his face. His smile widens as soon as he spots me. “Oh, good, you do live here, Pup. Glad to know my information was correct.”

I signal to the security guards, who are inching closer to the gate. They stop immediately, watching while I finish walking down to the gate, stopping only with a few feet between me and the metal.

“Didn’t like how things ended the first time so you decided to show up here for a personal viewing?”

“Just because you got her to give you a blow job doesn’t mean you own her. I’ve got her to do lots of things, things she doesn’t even know she’s done.”

My stomach twists into a tight knot, and I really, want to fucking reach through the gate and strangle the life out of him.

“Doesn’t really matter when she’s mine, now does it?”

He shrugs. “You mean, for now.”

I scan him quickly, looking for any weapons he might have. I catch a glimpse of silver metal. He definitely has a gun tucked into his pants, hiding under his trench coat.

“No, I mean until I choose to release her, and when and if that time comes, I can promise you I won’t be releasing her to you,” I tell him, then gesture to the security guards. “This man is not allowed on the property. I don’t care what he tells you. He doesn’t get past the gate. If he does, whoever allowed it will pay in blood.”

The guards nod, eyeing me, no doubt picking up on the growing tension between Yanov and me.

“I hope you don’t think a few security guards and some metal gate will stop me from getting what I want.” He taps the gate with his hand. “I’ll find a way around it. Now that I know she’s here I won’t have far to go when I’m ready to take her.”

“If you step foot on my property you will regret it immensely.”

“Are you threatening me, Pup?”

“It’s not a threat.” I grit out. “If you don’t believe me, do it and see what happens.”

He only grins, his smile slightly unhinged. He has to be at least twenty years older than Elyse. All the things she told me about this fucker come rushing back to my mind, giving me even more fuel to end his pathetic life.

I might hurt Elyse with my words, but everything I do is to protect her. This fucker doesn’t want to protect her. He wants to hurt her, and I will end his life before I let that happen again.

Leaning down, I tug the knife from my ankle sheath. Expertly, I roll it over my palm and flip it so the blade points toward Yanov. “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck around and find out? It would save me some time.”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, I can’t play your little kid games right now. I’m under orders at the moment, but don’t worry. The day will come soon enough when I’ll return to take her from you. Maybe I’ll let you stay alive long enough to watch it happen.”

“The day will never come fuckface. I might look naive, but I’m a lot harder to kill than you think. If you want Elyse, it will come at a cost, and I don’t know that you’re willing to die for her.”

That only earns me another shrug, then he peels back one side of his coat to flash the gun I knew he was already hiding there, but it’s not the gun I latch onto. No, it’s the shiny surface of a badge glinting on his belt.

Well, that complicates things. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, but you will, soon. In the meantime, make sure you take good care of my girl, and let her know I’ll be coming for her soon.”

It’s a shocking development, yes, but it also fills me with a different kind of anger. Ely told me what happened, but she didn’t give me this one very important detail.

That he’s a fucking cop.

“I warned you what will happen if you step on my property, so when you show up here again, don’t be shocked, because police badge or not, I’ll end your life and deal with the consequences later.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens, won’t we?” He slowly backs away from the gate, and I track his movements.

“We certainly fucking will.” I try to play it off like I don’t give a fuck what he says, but keeping the mask of indifference in place is difficult as fuck when I want to murder him with a glare alone. I stand there watching him disappear down the driveway. I want to make sure he’s gone before I go back inside the house.

Dealing with this fucker is my top priority.

My phone vibrates with an incoming text, and this time, when I pull it out and open the message, it’s the group chat I share with my best friends. I haven’t been active in the group for weeks now, and I know it’s my own fault for pulling away from them. Guilt flares deep in my chest. I haven’t shared anything with them about my grandfather, Elyse. What my future plans are. I know I could go to them, but they each have their own shit going on, and I don’t want to burden them, nor do I want Bel to find out how bad everything has gotten.

Still, I read through the messages, smirking, wondering when things became so fucking hard. Life. School. Work. To be a kid again. Mmm, then again, my childhood wasn’t any better really. I’m dragging my feet by the time I march back up the driveway, my vision hazy. Fuck, I guess I didn’t realize how exhausted I was. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the mix of alcohol and lack of sleep are in full effect.

I blink, but the world moves in and out of focus. I make it through the door, the ground beneath my feet shifting. It takes substantial effort to keep my eyes open, but somehow, I manage to fight off the exhaustion just long enough to get inside.

I stumble through the first door I find, the world spinning around me. I recognize the room as my grandfather’s office, and I slump down onto the long leather couch. I’m hit with a wave of nostalgia. A reminder of the numerous nights I fell asleep on this very couch while my grandfather and or my uncle worked. Even with the memory of what happened in this room, it still feels like home. I let my eyes drift closed, and I’m assaulted by her. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape her sassy mouth and piercing blue eyes.

Ely. My perfectly innocent fucking Ely.

Nails sink into my skin, raking down the side of my cheek. The smell of soap, clean skin. Her scent fills my nostrils. Hot breath fans against my throat, and I grip her by the hips with both hands and press her warm cunt against my throbbing cock.

Yes. This is what I want, but I’ve been too stuck in my own head, too afraid to do anything about it.

“Elyse…” I whisper her name.

She’s perfect. Just like I always knew she’d be.