Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

AURORA

T he solicitor pulled out a soiled handkerchief and blew his nose before digging his fingers deep into each nostril.

I lowered my head to hide my grimace of disgust.

Mr. Lewis, of Lewis, Lewis, Lewis, Harris & Lewis, adjusted his grimy reading glasses and shuffled some papers on his desk.

I shifted in my seat and bit my lip when the rickety wooden legs let out a loud squeak in the mostly silent office.

Mr. Lewis snorted at the sudden outburst.

Ewww.

I was here for the reading of the Last Will & Testament of Alfred and my mother. The silence was torture, but I didn't dare rush the man. He looked like he was at least a hundred years old. I couldn't decide if the white flakes on his shoulders were dandruff or grave dust.

Mr. Lewis cleared his throat and snorted again before finally speaking. "As you know, Ms. Barlowe, this entire matter is not only unusual but extremely unseemly. Here at Lewis, Lewis, Lewis, Harris & Lewis, we pride ourselves on the esteemed and high social standing of our clients, something you and your family have denigrated."

I never imagined a scenario where it would actually be a good thing that my mother essentially stopped raising me when I was eight. I was forced at a very young age to grow up fast. It wasn't just learning how to feed and clothe myself or how to let myself into an empty house. It was learning how to forge her signature on school documents, pay bills, lie to adults that my mother was home when I hadn't seen her in weeks because she was off with some new man. Who knew all this survival training would come in handy? While I wasn't very familiar with Alfred's papers, I at least knew about my mother's. So it wasn't as big of a shock for me to reach out to their solicitors and start inquiries into the bank accounts and their estate.

"Yes, Mr. Lewis."

"Regrettably, the courts have ordered that we remain your solicitor through this matter."

"Yes, Mr. Lewis."

The firm had tried to pawn me off on another solicitor's firm when they learned about Alfred's trouble with Roman but the courts would not let them. They were appeased by being assured their legal fees would be paid regardless of the frozen accounts.

He shuffled some more papers and pulled out a manila folder. He withdrew several official-looking reports. "We finally received the coroner's report on your parents' death."

I leaned forward in my seat. The police had refused to give me any update on the case since I remained a suspect. "What does it say?"

My one hope was that the coroner ruled Alfred died first, then my mother. It would mean that his assets became my mother's and then as her sole heir, passed on to me. If that was the case, we could potentially block the court's freezing of the accounts since they only applied to Alfred. It probably wouldn't hold for long once Roman's attack dogs got wind of the maneuver but there might just be enough time to withdraw enough funds for me to disappear to Paris and go to uni.

I gritted my teeth as Mr. Lewis read the document silently to himself.

I glanced around at the piles of files and dusty old law books around the cramped office. It was like a scene out of Dickens, which fit since I was for all intents and purposes an orphan now.

Mr. Lewis cleared his throat. "According to this report, your mother died first from a gunshot wound to the temple."

My heart sank.

I already knew I was not mentioned in Alfred's will.

"There is some good news, my dear. It seems the coroner found gunshot residue on Alfred's hands as well as flecks of your mother's blood on his clothing." He shuffled some papers. "An attached report says there was no blood or residue found on your pajamas. This may be enough to clear you of any possible unsavory charges."

I closed my eyes, trying not to picture the bloody murder scene as I nodded numbly to Mr. Lewis.

This was my life now. Good news came in the form of a bloody report saying I didn't shoot my mother in the head.

Mr. Lewis arranged the stack of papers and folders on his desk. "We will contest Alfred's will. We can make a claim that as his legal stepdaughter you have a sufficient claim to the estate. First, we will need to fight the embezzlement claims and?—"

Several men burst into the cramped office. They were dressed in severe suits and carrying attaché cases.

Mr. Lewis started to rise out of his seat but fell back. "What is the meaning of this?"

The first man who entered handed Mr. Lewis a thick envelope. "Final judgment. The entire estate, including real estate holdings and all their furnishings and contents, have been forfeited to Mr. Winterbourne as compensation for proven embezzlement charges. Miss Barlowe has forty-eight hours to vacate the family domicile and turn over the keys."

I stared at a fly buzzing against the windowpane over Mr. Lewis' shoulder. The sunlight reflected off its iridescent wings as it slammed its small body against the glass over and over again, desperate to escape to the trees and birds reflected on the other side.

Mr. Lewis stiffened his arms on his desk and finally rose. "This is outrageous. It is inconceivable the courts would make a judgment so quickly."

I watched the fly buzz over to a different pane, tiny swirls of dust skittering in its wake.

One of the men smirked. "Not if you are Mr. Winterbourne. He pays us for expedient results."

Mr. Lewis barked, "It's an outrage. We shall contest it."

"With what money? My client now controls the entire estate. We'll pay your fees and petition the courts for your withdrawal. It is Mr. Winterbourne's wishes that our firm handle Ms. Barlowe's interests moving forward."

Mr. Lewis raised an eyebrow. He adjusted his glasses on his bulbous nose. "Well, my fees are extensive. As you know, Ms. Barlowe required criminal legal advice?—"

Which he did not provide.

"—as well as civil. Then there was the matter of organizing all the estate papers?—"

Which I did, not him.

"—and the slurs to our reputation for handling such a case, which should be considered in the fee."

Which he constantly berated me for each time we spoke this week.

The man nodded. He reached into his suit breast pocket and withdrew an envelope, which he handed to Mr. Lewis. "I think you'll see this will more than compensate you."

Mr. Lewis opened the envelope and smiled. He reached out his hand and shook the other man's hand. "Pleasure doing business with you. Give Mr. Winterbourne my compliments." He shifted a nasty glare to me. "And please if you would be so good as to inform Mr. Winterbourne that we never intended to launch a strong defense against him. We trusted he was in the right of the matter and were only forced to see our legal obligations through by the courts."

I watched as the fly banged against the glass a final time before falling down to the dirty windowsill. He lay on his back unmoving. Dead.

I failed to notice the room had gone silent.

I raised my head and searched the blank faces of the men staring at me. There was a macabre display of emotions on their faces. Boredom. Anxiety, probably because they thought I would burst into unseemly feminine tears. Derision. And even lust.

I knew they wanted me to speak, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

Roman had won.

Deep down, I had known he would. I wasn't even sure why I bothered to come to the solicitor's office for the reading of the will. I should have just grabbed what little I had in my own bank account and hopped a train for Paris the moment the funeral ended.

I looked down at the chair arm. The dried oxblood leather was cracked and peeled. Using my fingernail, I picked at one corner, tearing up a small piece.

"Aurora."

I closed my eyes, hating the rush of relief I felt at hearing the deep timbre of his voice. Hating how much I loved the darkly lyrical sound of my name on his lips. It was like the low rumble of a bass A subsubcontra note on the piano.

"Aurora."

I refused to open my eyes or acknowledge him.

"Gentlemen, if you will excuse Miss Barlowe and myself."

His strong fingers wrapped around my upper arm and wrenched me out of my seat.

I opened my mouth to protest, but his glare froze the words in my throat.

He dragged me across the narrow, carpeted hallway into a conference room. There were several law clerks crowded around an old, scarred conference table piled high with books and papers.

"Get out," growled Roman.

The clerks jumped from their seats and ran out of the room without questioning his authority to order them around.

I shook free of his grasp and stormed several steps into the room, placing the conference table between us. "So you got everything you wanted. You have it all now."

His heated gaze moved over my body. "I don't have it all yet, but I will."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my eyes from tearing up. I crossed my arms over my chest. "Yeah, well, sorry to tell you, I don't come with the furnishings of my stepfather's estate."

Roman sighed as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and smoothed down his already smooth silk tie. "I still own you just the same."

With a screech, I picked up the nearest object, a stapler, and threw it at his head. Roman shifted to the right. The stapler crashed through a glass book-cabinet door, sending shards of glass cascading down onto Roman's shoulders. Keeping his gaze on me, he brushed the bits of glass off his shoulders, then shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on the conference table. He then walked over to the door and closed it. Turning back toward me, he once again captured my gaze as he locked it behind him. He reached for his belt. "If you are going to behave like a child, then I'm going to treat you like one."

My eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!"

He whipped the belt free of his trouser belt loops and folded it in half between his hands. He then snapped the leather. "Try me."

"I'll scream."

He smirked. "Always encouraged."

I picked up a cup of pens and threw it at him. They bounced off the high back of the leather chair to his right, scattering across the conference table and onto the floor. I then picked up a book and threw it as well. It thudded uselessly to the floor at his feet without touching him.

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Are you done yet?"

"I'm just getting started." I threw a three-hole punch at him. "I know what you're doing and I'm not going to let you get away with it."

He circled around the table, caressing the belt between his hands. "Enlighten me."

I kept pace with his steps, always keeping the full length of the table between us. "You think if you control the money, you will control me."

He didn't respond but continued to stalk me around the table. I was getting déjà vu from the night he took my virginity.

I swept a stack of books onto the floor behind me as I scurried to stay ahead of his longer strides. "It won't work. I don't give a damn about the money. I'll get a job. I'll get a grant. I'm going to Paris."

He stepped over the books. "No. You're not."

"You can't stop me."

"We both know I can."

The truth of his words settled like a fist in my stomach. I threw my arms up into the air, pleading with him. "What more do you want? You have the money. Alfred and my mother are dead. The police probably still think I did it because of you . You even took the one thing that was mine and mine alone to give. I have nothing left."

Roman moved so quickly I had no chance of escape.

He pulled me into his embrace, digging his hands into my hair and wrenching my head painfully back. "You have everything. You are everything."

His mouth crashed down on mine. Claiming me as easily as he had claimed everything else. His tongue swept in, dueling with mine. My fingers grasped at the cool linen of his shirt as his lips pressed roughly against my teeth. I couldn't breathe. Roman shifted, slamming me against the wall. His hands grasped mine and raised them over my head. He enveloped my wrists with one hand as his other hand palmed my breast. The belt buckle pressed into the soft flesh. "Stop fighting me, Aurora," he breathed against my open mouth.

I whimpered as his thigh pressed between my legs. "I can't."

With a growl, he twisted his hand into my hair. I yelped as it stung. He swung around and bent me over the conference table. The belt buckle in his hand scraped my thigh as he lifted my skirt. He tore my panties off me, exposing my naked ass.

His raised arm cast a shadow over the conference table moments before it swung down to strike me. The leather belt caught me across both cheeks. I cried out in shock and pain. He struck me again and again. I rose up on my toes, unable to dislodge his grip on my hair that pinned me to the table.

"Please! Don't!"

Roman's breath came in harsh gasps. "Why do you force me to hurt you?"

He swiped my ass again. My flesh felt red and swollen. Hot stings ran over my ass and down my thighs.

"Why won't you just let me take care of you? Why must you fight me? Us?"

My fingers clawed at the table. Bits and pieces started to slip from my consciousness, until only Roman and the pain remained. I craved the darkness he brought. The oblivion. Was he right? Did I deliberately provoke him, so that he would punish me? It seemed the only way I felt any emotion anymore was when I was writhing in painful pleasure in his arms. It was sick and twisted. Wrong on all levels.

Still, I wouldn't give in. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of winning one more time today.

"Fuck you," I spit out, my breath fogging the polished surface of the table.

With a frustrated roar, Roman threw the belt across the room.

He flipped me onto my back. His knuckles grazed my exposed pussy as he lowered his trouser zipper and pulled his hard cock free. Grabbing under my jaw, he squeezed my throat as he plowed into me.

I screamed from the burning intrusion. I was wet, but not wet enough to take his thick girth to the hilt in one thrust without pain.

The conference table rocked back and forth from the impact of his thrusts as he impaled me on his shaft. The cool wood did nothing to soothe the raging heat of my skin from his belting. I lifted my knees and wrapped my legs around his waist as I gripped his tie and pulled on it—hard. Yanking him down over my supine form.

He bared his teeth. "You like this, baby girl. You like when I fuck you raw?"

"Harder," I dared him as I watched the tie tighten around his neck. All rational thought had left me.

In this brief moment, the power struggle between us was even. I held him in the palm of my hand. He was as dependent on me for his next breath as I was on him.

He shifted his hand to cup the back of my neck, pulling my torso up. "Kiss me," he commanded.

I turned my head to the side, refusing him. The only small show of defiance left to me.

He forced his lips against mine, crushing them against my teeth. I kept my jaw clenched.

"Open your mouth, dammit," he raged as he thrust harder.

My inner thigh muscles throbbed as he bruised my cunt with his cock.

I refused to relent.

"Fine, you want to be treated like a whore, I'll treat you like a fucking whore."

He pulled free so suddenly I cried out. Feeling empty and sore, I tried to curl my knees up to my chest as I turned onto my side.

Roman grabbed my legs and flipped me back onto my stomach. Fisting my hair, he pulled my head back as he slapped my ass. His closed fist rubbed my sore inner thighs as he positioned himself at my entrance again.

"Roman…"

He thrust in.

This time he showed even less mercy than before. Pounding into me over and over again. Several chairs across the way tilted back onto their back legs and then tipped over, crashing to the floor as the table shifted across the room from the power of his hips.

Against my will, my body responded to the callous touch of his hands. My orgasm was so intense it was almost painful, as if he had ripped it from the center of my body with his bare hands.

He slapped my ass several more times as he came deep inside of me.

When he pulled free, I remained where I was, feeling used and empty.

I watched through half-closed eyelids as he straightened his clothing and walked around the table to retrieve his suit jacket. He shrugged into it. He then straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket. "I am leaving the country for one week on business. I will give you that time to pack what you want from the house. When I return, you will move in with me. No arguments, Aurora. It's over. I won."

He unlocked the door and slammed it shut as he left.

He was right, he had won.

This round.