1. Monique

Chapter 1

Monique

T he car maneuvered along curvy, somewhat icy roads. Although the tinted windows were closed off to anything but the shadows of frost-covered trees, Monique spent an inordinate amount of time gripping handles and ensuring her seatbelt was securely fastened. Every time she looked over at her fiancée Helen, she chastised her about car safety. Especially in this early December weather.

“I’d rather you not be dead for the holidays,” she grumbled, slapping the end of Helen’s seatbelt into her lap. “Let alone for our wedding. I don’t fancy marrying a corpse.”

Sighing, Helen finally relented. “Just think, though. You get all my money.”

“I’d rather have you than your money.”

Helen snorted. “We cremate in my family. You could have my ashes…”

“Can we not have this discussion?” The car, although expertly driven by Helen Warner’s long-time chauffeur, skidded a bit on a long stretch of road. “I’m anxious thinking about it.”

“Sorry, Princess.” Helen put her hand on Monique’s, soothing her frayed nerves. “You know I jest.”

They exchanged wry smiles. Monique took a deep breath and tried to ignore the car’s difficulty navigating these mountainous roads.

Across from her, another family member rolled her eyes. “Still pissed you’re dragging me along for this,” Eve, Helen’s younger sister, said. “I could be snug in bed right now. Me, some tea, a dirty book or movie...”

“We get it,” Helen said, mouth straight. “You’d rather be home.” Before her sister could protest, Helen undid her seatbelt again and leaned forward, coming a nose length away from Eve. “But if I didn’t get you out of that house, you would have invited all your grad school group project people over and screamed at each other until the staff complained.”

Eve sniffed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She threw a lot of smack into her sister’s face, but at the end of the day, Helen was the only person who could make her cross her arms with a huff. “Not my fault Cornelia doesn’t know her asshole from a thesis statement...”

Monique tuned them out and instead paid attention to the messages popping up on her phone. They had emerged from a dead zone. The only message of note came from June, the woman in charge of Monique’s business that Friday and Saturday, the busiest time of the week for work. Wish I didn’t have to be away right now. Yet when her busy fiancée said she scored them a private villa on one of the most beautiful mountains in the country for the whole weekend... well, a woman didn’t say no to that. She and Helen wouldn’t have time for romance on that scale until after the new year. The holidays would be nothing but entertaining Helen’s fussy parents and managing Christmas parties on behalf of the whole family. They planned on going to Hawaii in early January, but...

Still, Monique didn’t like being away from work when it was the busiest. June was a capable hostess and manager in her boss’s absence, but it would be the last busy weekend of the year, and Monique knew how to milk the most money from clients. Her business would need the extra funds to sustain the closure between Christmas and New Year’s so her employees and staff could go home for the holidays. Some would remain behind to tend the Manoir she owned and have their own Christmas festivities but, well, Monique was a control freak at times.

She may be in a submissive relationship with her Domme and fiancée Helen, but that didn’t stop her from being a control freak.

“Relax,” Helen said, rubbing Monique’s arm. “This weekend is all about relaxing.” She leaned in and whispered into her fiancée’s ear. “In more ways than one.”

Monique couldn’t suppress a grin. When she caught Eve’s eye from across the car, she politely sat up straight and pursed her lips.

They reached the holiday villa in another twenty minutes. The driver produced the invitation from Jem Mercier, the owner of the villa, to the security guard. Helen had scored the invite a week ago, stating that she was taking her fiancée and sister on a getaway to ease the tension growing at Warner Manor. The weather was making everyone moody. The holidays stressed Monique out… not to mention the wedding plans. It also didn’t help that Eve was finishing up a semester at grad school and experienced such hormonal mood swings lately that one of her maids quit.

“Madam,” a graying butler said as he opened Monique’s car door and helped her out. The driver opened the doors for Eve and Helen. “Welcome to Winter Villa.” The butler tipped his outdoor hat to the Warners and escorted them inside.

It was a quaint villa. Well, quaint compared to the manor they came from. Quaint compared to Monique’s place of work and weekend home. The villa was only three stories tall, with the third story sectioned off and styled for the year-round help, consisting of the butler, a chef, and a maid. Jem Mercier and her girlfriend Gwenyth lived here for a week at a time, but they were away for the weekend.

Three stories, a handful of bedrooms, and a spacious study that was cozy enough to keep out the winter chill. Monique was grateful to sit in front of the roaring fireplace and let the butler handle her luggage. I’m simply glad to be out of that damned car. She accepted a small drink of brandy to bash away the last of her nerves.

“You’ll be in the second room from the right,” the butler said, pointing to the staircase in the foyer. “Miss Warner will be across the hall.”

“Great,” Eve mumbled as she poured herself a glass of brandy. “I can hear these two going at it all night.”

Monique shrugged. “Probably.”

Eve offered an exasperated look. Although she was used to Monique making references to kinky sex with Helen, Eve still made faces. The grossest thing Monique could do was infer that Helen Warner had sex . Sometimes it became a fun game to play when she was bored, and Eve was restless.

This would be a fun weekend, indeed.

“Talked to the chef in the kitchen,” Helen said, sitting in a chair across from Monique, although she also addressed her sister behind her. “Roast and all the trimmings for dinner.”

Before Monique could express how salivating that sounded, the butler loudly walked by the study and threw open the front door. “Get the Fourth Room ready, Bernadette,” he told the maid. “We’ve got more guests.”

The Warners gave each other perturbed glances. Oh, brother.