Empire of Lust (Empire, #4)

by Rina Kent

Caroline does, though. People have dreams of becoming doctors, lawyers, and astronauts. She has dreams of dating and marrying rich. It’s a legitimate goal for those of us who’ve lived on scraps all our lives, go home at night looking over our shoulders, and never ever go out without pepper spray. It’s the Cinderella complex of it all that doesn’t sit right with me. Why search for a man to give you a glass slipper when you could get it yourself?

“I have no interest in what I heard and I value my life enough not to tattle on you. So give me my phone and we can be out of each other’s hair.” “I like your hair, so I don’t mind staying in it.”

“When he”—Anonymous cocks his head in the Joker’s direction but doesn’t look at him—“had the power over you, why did you provoke him? Logically, you should’ve begged.” “Logically, that wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere. How many women do you think begged and cried in situations like that and still got assaulted? Countless is the answer. I refuse to show that scum or any other jerk weakness.”

“Interesting. Maybe you really are a femme fatale. You should be careful, though. If you gaze into an abyss for long, the abyss gazes into you.”

“Then who are you a fan of?” “Myself.” “Wow. Narcissus called and he wants his arrogance status back.”

“Then what does it make me?” “Subhuman.” “Subhumans are those who allow themselves to be used.” “Let’s blame the victim, shall we? A tale as old as time.” “A victim chooses to be a victim, whether by desperation or other circumstances. A lamb walking into the forest is well-prepared to be eaten.”

The truth remains. Kingsley and I are the personifications of water and fire. Coexisting is impossible. A healthy relationship is mythical.

“You’re just jealous and bitter that your father chose me over you and your mother.” “My mother, maybe, but never me, Susan. As much as you tried to tamper with the old man’s mind, the fact remains that I’m his heir and the one who inherited over eighty percent of his fortune. Life lesson for the day, pussy doesn’t compete with blood. Maybe you should’ve killed me with that pillow, huh?”

Aspen might have inherited her ancestors’ wickedness, but she also got their soul-shattering beauty. The type they used to lure men and feast on their livers, hearts, and dicks.

The human mind forgets. It’s a defense mechanism, a healing process, and a necessity to push oneself forward.

In the meantime, I received news about all the people he killed while he was on the inside. Just because a monster is locked up doesn’t mean the danger he poses is gone.

“And why shouldn’t I touch you?” “Because there was an unspoken rule about that, asshole.” “I’m removing it then. You’re like a painting of a battle, but whoever said war and art should be watched from afar didn’t have the audacity to come close, touch, breathe, and taste.”

It’s like a foreign demon took over my body the moment I saw her being manhandled by Nicolo’s thug. I don’t hit for women—except for beating Nate the fuck up when I found him making out with my daughter under my roof, because fuck that guy.

“You heard the lady.” I offer her a smile that screams fake. “We can find a compromise.” In hell. While she’s riding my face under a volcano waterfall. I pause again, my fingers tightening on the cup. That’s the second erotic thought I’ve had about the witch in the span of an hour. What the fuck am I? An animal in heat?

“Is that worry I hear in your venomous tone? I’d be touched if I had any fucks to give.” “You could be hanging from a frozen mountain by your dick and the only thing I’d do is bring out the popcorn while I watch. So no, worry is the last emotion I’d feel for you.”

He’s a natural at dealing with monsters and making them obey his every command. I guess it all boils down to the fact that he’s a monster himself, but watching him in action is annoyingly fascinating.

I hate this woman with more passion than should be allowed, but I still want to fuck her anyway. Hate-fuck her, to be more specific.

“Excuse my stoicism and inability to believe you have any noble motives.” “Nobility and I don’t share the same universe, beliefs, or social standing. Also, your idol, Nietzsche, was a self-professed nihilist who was highly critical of stoics, so to adopt their philosophical term should be presumptuous to your little Nietzsche heart.”

And she’s still smiling, brighter now, like a much younger version of herself. A version that’s engraved deep inside me. A version that I intend to bring out.

“Motherfucking bastard.” I huff. “I can’t believe he won two cases in one damn day. I swear he gets his energy from sacrificing poor souls at the devil’s altar.” “Aspen, honey, you’re not supposed to admire him when we’re planning to cut off his dick and feed it to my dogs. What do you guys call it? Right, conflict of interest.”

“Should I be honored?” “Yes. You should also answer my question.” “If I do, will you let me go?” “I would say yes, but that would be a lie and I’m sure you don’t prefer that option. We should adopt an honesty policy.” “Honesty is just an illusion invented by people to allow them to manipulate others.”

Logic is the last thing on my mind as I let him ravage me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before. Maybe I’ll never experience it again. And I know, I just know that he probably won’t let me go. And maybe I don’t want him to let me go either. My thoughts are reinforced when he releases my lips, and whispers against them, “I decided to keep you, after all.”

I’ve always loved violence, but this is the first time I’ve revered it. Fuck the law. Sometimes justice can only be achieved with old-fashioned eye for an eye.

“You said you’d spare me,” he cries. “No, I didn’t.” I pull him by his shirt and breathe against his blood-and-sweat-stained face. “Here’s how it will go, motherfucker. I’ll punch you until you lose consciousness like your friend here, then I’ll waterboard you to consciousness and do it all over again. I’ll torture you for every mark you left on her skin. By the time I’m done with your sorry excuse of an existence, you’ll wish for death.”

Even I have started to smell like the scums. If Aspen were here, she’d tell me her favorite quote. If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.

Maybe my rich boy status, as Nicolo likes to point out, is a mere camouflage of the monster I was always meant to be. Normal people would feel a smidgen of remorse or a pang of guilt for not feeling guilty. Me, on the other hand? The only thing I feel as I stare at their unconscious, barely breathing forms is the need for more.

“You said Mrs. Shaw—as in, which one?” I motion at the painting, reverting the conversation back to it. “Mrs. Liliana Shaw. The only one to be called Mrs. Shaw in this place. The other one is just Susan.” She pauses. “Or any other colorful names Mr. Shaw calls her.”

“W-hore. I’m no one’s whore.” “No one’s but mine, because I’ll eat your pussy like you are one.”

“You’re arrogant, too, but since you have a dick between your legs, it’s called charisma. Yet when a woman has confidence in herself and her work, she’s labeled an egotistical bitch. If we’re going to be fair, you should be called an egotistical dick.”

He narrows his eyes. “Do you have some sort of an eating disorder? Now that I think about it, I only see you drinking things—coffee, alcohol. Lots of alcohol. Wait a fucking second, are you an alcoholic?” “Shut up. And seriously, why the hell are you so focused on me lately? I liked it better when you didn’t give a fuck about me.”

He flings a hand on the back of the sofa. “You do realize that you’re fully transparent when that head of yours is bubbling with violence, don’t you?” “Better run then, motherfucker.”

“You always hated her and promised to make her disappear. Did you hit her or pay someone to hit her to scare her away?” My jaw tightens so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t snap. “Watch your mouth, Gwen. I’m your father, not your friend, and you have zero right to accuse me.” “Why not? You threatened to kill her once. I heard you! You’re my dad and I love you, but you’re a merciless man to anyone who goes against you. I learned that the hard way when you nearly killed Nate, your damn best friend, because he disobeyed you, so excuse me if I think you’re capable of doing more than that to Aspen.”

Still buried deep inside me, he walks with purpose to God knows where. While kissing me. And all I can think about is that maybe he’s the yin to my yang.

I really didn’t sign up to be ravaged multiple times at a party full of people until I could barely move. The only reason I was able to get back to socializing is because I nearly kicked him in the nuts so he’d let me go. But, of course, Kingsley doesn’t let go. At least, not for long. He’s like a giant black cat who gives his prey a break just so he can pounce on them afterward.

I grab her by the waist, then sit her back down. She glares at me over her shoulder. “I thought we weren’t friends. Let go of me.” “That’s true. We’re not friends, sweetheart. You’re my fucking woman.”

emotional and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” “Gwen, no…” “Let me finish.” Her voice turns brittle. “I missed you so much when I didn’t have you and I was hurt thinking you abandoned me, but you didn’t. Yesterday, Daddy took me to the grave you visited yearly, thinking it was me, and told me you were severely abused, starved, and beaten to within an inch of your life, but you still tried your best to protect me. He said losing me shaped who you became as a person and if I couldn’t understand your circumstances, then I don’t deserve you as a mother.”

Nate leans in to whisper in my ear, “Your jealousy is irrational, nonsensical, and has a margin of error the size of the Pacific Ocean. Question my devotion to my wife again and I’ll be the one to fucking kill you.”

“Let me go,” she orders in a broken, hurt tone. “Don’t touch me with the same hands that were all over someone else. I’m not anyone’s second choice.” “You were never a second fucking choice.” I hoist her head up with a savage grip on her hair until her face is eye level with mine. “Other people mean fuck to me as they should mean fuck to you. The only thing that matters is that you’re mine, body and fucking soul, Aspen. I was your first and I’ll make sure to be your last.”

Going into this, I knew full well he wouldn’t take it anywhere beyond the physical. I read an article once about how men and women release different brain chemicals after sex. While both release dopamine, women have excessive oxytocin that forcibly bonds them to the person they experience pleasure with. Which isn’t the same for men; their oxytocin’s mere purpose is the production of semen. Dopamine is the only prominent hormone for them, and it doesn’t matter who they get it from.

Kingsley became moodier than snobbish royalty and has been asking Nate to box with him almost every day. A fact that Gwen wasn’t happy about, because her father is stealing her husband’s time—which is limited already. The second week, Nate put an end to Kingsley’s demands and told him, “I’m sorry, but I prefer my wife’s company.” To which Kingsley nearly punched him.

“Do you remember my favorite quote?” His expression softens and mischievousness lights up his dark eyes. “If you gaze into an abyss for long, the abyss gazes into you.” “The whole version is. He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby becomes a monster. And if you gaze into an abyss for long, the abyss gazes into you.” I stroke his face. “Don’t become a monster, Kingsley.”

I think I just upgraded to a different level of existence. No one told me that being someone’s mom felt so revering.

You chase away my darkness and understand me on a level no one else does. You never shied away from my callous side. If anything, you stood right in the path of its destruction, challenging me for more. Not only are you my match and the woman who gave me Gwen, but you also make me a better man, sweetheart.”

Nietzsche said that there’s always some madness in love, but there’s also always some reason in madness.