Chapter Four

Xavier

K eeping Tallulah tethered to the confines of her mind is amusing. At the same time, I'm well aware that what I'm doing is wrong. I shouldn't manipulate her mind like this, but I can't help myself. I'm enjoying keeping her as my prisoner, captive in her very own little golden cage. Maybe if I wasn't such a twisted bastard, I'd be able to stop myself from doing this to her. But as of yet, there's nothing that could convince me to let my wife go.

My obsession with my ward doesn't grow by the day, it grows by the fucking second. Every fraction of one spent in her company fills me with lust, anger and love. These paradoxical emotions drive me crazy and I don't even understand my obsession with her myself. And yet she's taken anchor in my heart, reminding me every day that she's here to stay.

Today, my young wife kneels beneath my desk, sucking my cock as if she's in an orgasm-induced trance. I let her come too many times tonight. Tallulah got drunk on the pain and my cum, and it feels like she's still caught in the fantasy dreamland where a golden collar ties her to the leash in my hand.

Not that I'm complaining.

Training her to be my submissive partner was always the plan, and knowing how her family schemed to take that away from me makes me smirk. I'm pleased with myself for getting exactly what I wanted. There's no one left to stop me from claiming Tallulah as mine.

Her poor, powerless, puppet of a father is too fucking scared to come after me. Heath is too soft, too emotional to pull Tallulah away from me. After the last time he saw her, he's surely convinced of the power I have over his daughter. He's seen how freely and shamelessly my angel submits to me, and there's not a thing he can do to save his no longer innocent off-spring.

As she sucks my cock beneath the table, I groan, and pet her head, toying with curls of her blonde hair.

"You're such a good girl for me, Tallulah," I mutter as I push my chair away from her desk and cup her cheeks in my palms. "You are so well-behaved now. You're everything I've ever wanted."

Her eyes glow with immense pleasure. On top of her little pain kink, I've discovered my angel loves to be praised. It's an adorable combination, one I've fully been taking advantage of as I submit Tallulah to more and more of my fucked up desires and games.

"You going to keep being a good girl for me?" I ask.

Tallulah nods eagerly, getting into the perfect submissive position for me just like I taught her. Her legs fold as she kneels, palms facing upward, resting on her knees. She looks up at me, her neediness plainly visible in that gorgeous, rosy-cheeked face.

"Goddamn it, angel, you're so pretty. You know that?" I get out through gritted teeth. "Looking at you alone drives me crazy. It makes me want to kill anybody who lays eyes on you. You're all fucking mine. No one should be allowed to look at you but me."

She smiles shyly and I kiss her softly, a peck against her forehead. She knows it means I'm giving her permission to speak. In the last few weeks, I've trained the nasty bratting out of her completely. My once strong-willed Tallulah now doesn't even utter a word without my permission.

"Thank you," she whispers timidly, as if she's afraid to speak even now that I've given her permission. "Will you please hurt me today?"

I smirk. "This little obsession of yours with pain just doesn't stop, does it?"

She flushes. "No, Sir."

"You just crave being hurt now, is that it?" I tickle her under her chin and she giggles, but when I try to pull back, her fingers catch on to my sleeves and she silently begs me not to stop.

"Touch me again," she whispers. "Like you did before..."

She guides my palms to her face, pressing my fingers against her cheeks. I smile down at her, still on her knees and pretty as ever.

"Slap me," she begs, adjusting her position and making me laugh at her neediness. "Please, Xavier... Please, I want to feel the weight of your hand on my cheek."

"How could I hurt something so beautiful?" I ask her softly, trailing my fingertips over her plump lips. "You're just too pretty, angel."

She frowns and takes hold of my palm again, losing her position. I glare at her, signaling I'm not pleased, but she just smiles deviously as she pulls my palm back and hits herself with it.

"Tallulah," I growl as a silent warning as she moans when my palm hits her. "Behave yourself."

"No," she mutters, hitting herself with my hand again, this time hard enough for the slap to echo in the room.

She grinds her pussy on the floor, legs lewdly spread as her free hand wanders between them, desperately searching for that little button that brings her so much pleasure.

"Tallulah, stop it," I hiss again, but she doesn't.

Instead, she lets go of my hand and starts touching herself obscenely, eyes begging for a punishment. I don't want to indulge this behavior - she's been trained to know better. And yet it doesn't make me any more eager to tell her off. I want to witness this little show she's putting on for me.

"I'm only warning you this one time," I speak up again as she dissolves into moans brought on by her own forbidden touch.

She knows better than to touch herself without my permission. Her body is mine, and I decide everything that happens to it.

"What are you going to do about it?" she teases, her fingers pinching down on her nipples, hard. "You won't hurt me, so..."

I glare at her. I can see the orgasm building in her eyes. She's going to come if I don't stop her, and I'm not ready for her to have this orgasm. It should always come from me. It's not hers to steal.

"Look at me and stop what you're doing right now. Your insolence won't go unpunished this time. You want to be a well-behaved little angel, don't you? You know what happens to disobedient girls, don't you?" Tallulah retorts with a self-satisfied smirk and answers, "They get punished."

"But not in the way you'd hope," I respond, trying to quell the habit of defiance in her. "Why are you misbehaving now?" A hint of Tallulah's old self shines through her eyes as she expresses her desire for punishment. "I want you to punish me, master," she says sweetly, trailing a finger down my chest. I react by grabbing her wrist and confining her arms.

"You don't get to make those decisions. They are mine to make, not yours," I declare firmly. I wonder if this is all part of a game for her, a way to challenge and play me. Pushing the thought aside, I gesture for the dog, Zeus, to return to his bed, acknowledging my growing fondness for the dogs, realizing they seem to prefer Tallulah over me. Zeus complies, understanding not to contest my authority.

"Talk to me, angel. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours? Did I upset you today?" I rarely inquire in this manner, eager for her response. But Tallulah, with tears streaming down her cheeks, remains silent. "Come on, Angel," I coax gently, "You know you can tell me everything. In fact, I demand you do. You're not allowed to keep anything from me."

"I just want the punishment," she whispers brokenly, expressing her desire for me to hurt her. Knowing she tends towards masochism, I hesitate to inflict pain on her. Although she seems to beg for it, I can't bring myself to harm her. "Be a good girl for me. I know you can do it. Open those pretty little lips and tell me what's going through your mind," I encourage softly.

However, she avoids meeting my eyes, creating an uncomfortable moment of silence.

"I don't want to listen to you," she finally whispers. "I just want you to hurt me. That's all I'm good for, right?" Suddenly, she pushes away from me with heavy palms on my chest, attempting to run off. I catch her wrist again and pull her back towards me.

"You need to talk to me," I say more firmly. "You know your thoughts are not yours to keep. I want to know everything that's in there."

"I can't," she says, her voice breaking, a small sob escaping her lips. I pull her onto my lap, her arms around my neck, holding her tightly as she sobs. I'm torn between consoling her and understanding why she's suddenly so emotional.

I had believed I'd broken her for good, thinking she wouldn't return to her bratty personality, but this moment feels like she's woken up from her submissive state, something I'm unsure is good for her, despite my often misunderstood ethics and shaky morals. Holding her close, I gently run my hands through her long blonde hair, whispering comforting words.

Gradually, she calms down, worn out from the emotional upheaval. "Let's get you to bed," I suggest softly, carrying her to the bedroom. I tuck her in and even allow the dogs onto the bed with her. They curl up protectively at the foot of the bed, licking Tallulah's fingers peeking out from under the duvet. Her eyelids grow heavy, and she struggles to focus her gaze on me.

"Sleep, angel," I say softly, kissing her forehead. As Tallulah drifts off into a deeper slumber, her breathing growing heavier, I feel it's appropriate to step away, despite feeling guilty for leaving her in that state.

I'm bewildered by how she seemingly woke up from her submissive state and what it implies for our relationship. The fact that it's stirred my moral compass, which has been dormant for decades, is deeply concerning. I groan, running a hand through my hair, realizing I've become undeniably and irreversibly attached to her.

" Y ou okay, padron?" Saul asks me later that day during a meeting. "Where is your wife?"

Initially, I don't want to answer him, but we're alone in the room and he's the only person I trust. I figure it won't hurt to confide in him.

"She broke today," I mutter. "Broke character, which made me feel ... Fuck."

I run a hand through my hair, fucking frustrated with this whole thing. I don't feel. I don't do emotions. Emotional people are fucking weak, and that's not an adjective I associate with myself.

"She started bratting again?" Saul asks.

"It was more than that," I groan, rubbing my temples and contemplating getting a drink to help with my nerves. "She completely broke and acted as if I'd kept her prisoner to her own mind. Then she was back to behaving, after one slap. That fucking easy."

"So she's switching," Saul adds. "Perhaps it's hard for her to come to terms with her new life. It could be a dissociation technique her mind does to her to keep her unharmed."

"You might have a fucking point," I hiss. "But I don't want two versions of Tallulah. I want all of her. I want her to be fully herself when she's with me."

"I understand." Saul grimaces. "Unfortunately, padron , we have more issues to deal with on top of that."

I exhale and nod. "Alright, tell me what's been going on."

"The Scorpion cartel is becoming a bigger problem than we initially thought," murmurs my right-hand man. "And many of us can't understand why you're not treating this as a problem at all."

"I've told you before," I grind out, "this has nothing to do with any of you and everything to do with me and my brother."

"Your brother sure is stirring up a lot of trouble for our men," Saul says, resting his head in his palms. "It's not just me who's worried; Julio and even Phoenix have been making unsettling comments."

"Julio?" I let off an amused laugh. "So we're listening to the words of a barely initiated Hitman now? You should know better than that, Saul. He's nothing but a sicario. You've done plenty to antagonize him. You can't expect loyalty if you don't give them a reason to follow."

"I can't," I laugh bitterly. "Do you really think I'm so weak that these men wouldn't pledge their allegiance for life? I've never had a problem with that, as you may have noticed. I don't appreciate being questioned about it now."

"I'm just telling you that the entire cartel is having real trouble believing you're on top of this. The constant threats against Tallulah, her father's questioning of you—is that supposed to be news?" I say, cocking an eyebrow. "We both know that little prick never appreciated me and what I did for him."

Saul raises his brows, staring at me in silent defiance. We both acknowledge the horror I inflicted on Heath and the doubt creeping in about the rights I had as his guardian to subject him to such darkness. It's disconcerting that Heath is still reeling from the aftermath of my actions. What's more disconcerting is my lack of remorse for what I did to my nephew, particularly since his daughter, Tallulah, awakens my conscience in a way nobody else does.

"You should know, Padron, Tallulah's parents have been bombarding us with questions about their daughter," Saul says. "And this is my problem how?" I sneer. "This is what I have you people for—to deal with these issues instead of me."

"I'm just saying, Xavier," Saul says in a low, threatening tone, "many of us are getting tired of this. You might soon face a mutiny."

"Are you trying to threaten me?" I ask. "That's laughable. Now get out of my office." He stands and shakes his head. "Have you noticed how common this occurrence has been since Tallulah came to live with you?" he remarks. "I can count how many times I've been thrown out of your office in the past 20 years on one hand. But if we add up the last two years, that number will be a lot higher. I can't help but think it's because of her."

"You should keep your nose out of what doesn't concern you," I hiss. "Now get the hell out. I won't let anyone question my relationship with my wife. Leave!"