The Sacrifice: A Dark Revenge Romance
The Sacrifice: Chapter 43

I sit at my desk, signing papers, when I hear my door open. “I’m busy.” I dismiss whoever it is, not in the mood to deal with anyone tonight.

“Too busy for me?”

I look up to see Lake leaning up against the now closed door. One ankle crossed over the other, hands on her hips, and a naughty smile on her face.

She wears a pair of white cotton shorts and a black tank top with her black Vans. Her hair is down and straight, and she has no makeup on her face. She looks absolutely stunning.

I lean back in my chair and look up at Andrew. “We’ll finish these later.”

“Yes, sir.” He nods and starts to walk toward the door. She pushes off it and steps to the side so he can exit.

“What are you doing, Lake?” I ask. Last I saw her, I left her in our bed, naked and pissed off at me. That was hours ago.

She walks toward my desk, one leg crossing in front of the other, hands still on her narrow hips. She comes behind my desk and shoves my chair back to give her enough space to come between me and the desk. She hops up onto the surface, and I stand from my chair.

Placing a hand on either side of her, I lower my face to hers. Her eyes are heavy, her cheeks flushed. She drops her eyes to my lips, and hers part, letting out a heavy breath. I can smell the cinnamon—Fireball. She’s been drinking. “Are you drunk?” I ask.

She reaches up, and her hands grip my button-up. I allow her to yank me even closer, my lips almost touching hers. Tilting her head down a little, she looks up at me through her long dark lashes. “Yes, sir.”

Fuck me! I let out an audible growl at her answer. My cock instantly strains against the inside of my slacks.

My hand shoots up to wrap around her delicate neck, and she sucks in a breath. I stand to my full height, my free hand tangling in her hair. I pull her body into mine, her ass now at the edge of my desk. “What did I tell you?” I don’t know if I’m more pissed she’s been drinking, or that she’s been down in the club. I fired her because I didn’t want her down there. I want her safe upstairs in our bedroom.

Instead of answering, her tongue comes out and runs along my lips, making my body tense.

She pulls away, lips parted, and whispers, “Punish me.”

I don’t have to have years of training as a Lord to know this is a fucking trap. She’s up to something. “You’re still recovering,” I say, trying to remind myself why I haven’t touched her in days. It’s been so fucking hard. Every morning that I wake up and she’s next to me naked. Her body just begs me to take it. Or when I crawl into bed at night, and she rolls into me, wanting to snuggle in her sleep. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, but I hold her in my arms while she sleeps, and I find myself hoping she dreams of me.

“I’d feel better if you’d fuck me.” She leans in, kissing my lips once again. “Remind me I’m your whore, Tyson.”

I growl, and my dick reminds me that it’s been a living hell not being able to fuck my wife. But she’s not ready. She needs more time. I pick up my office phone and call the main bar once again. When Andrew picks up, I tell him to send Beau upstairs.

“What are you doing?” she asks when I hang up.

I lift her up off my desk and sit her in my chair, then I walk over to the door and open it, waiting for Beau. He walks in moments later. I slam the door shut and he turns to slowly face me.

“What’s going on, boss?” he asks, looking from her to me.

“Did you serve my wife alcohol?” I know it was him because Andrew had been up here with me.

He swallows. “I did, sir.”

“Tyson.” She jumps to her feet.

“Take her home,” I order him.

“What?” he asks, blinking.

“Tyson—”

“She’s drunk,” I bark, interrupting her. “Drive her home in her SUV and take an Uber back.”

“Tyson…” He steps forward, and I hold out my hand, stopping him.

“Either take my drunk wife home right now, or you’re fired.” I look over at her, and she’s got her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me. She stumbles back into my chair and lets out a huff.

He nods. “I’ll take her home.”

“Give us a moment,” I tell him, and he steps out of my office. I walk over to her, and she gets to her wobbly legs and goes to storm past me, but I grab her upper arm, bringing her to a stop. Her eyes narrow on mine. “Don’t wait up, little darling.”

Her eyes soften, and she leans into me. “Is this a punishment?” she asks as her eyes grow heavy. She’s about to pass out any second.

“No,” I answer, frowning. “This is for your safety, Lake.”

“I saw you,” she whispers.

“Saw me do what?” I push some dark strands behind her ear.

“Kill that guy in the basement.”

My hand pauses, my eyes on her clouded ones. “Lake—”

“Why?” she asks, licking her lips. “Why do you care what happens to me?”

I’m not the guy that her family made me out to be. Although, I can’t say I’ve tried to make her think any differently. “I’ve always cared,” I answer honestly.

She’s too drunk to remember this conversation tomorrow. She’ll wake up even more mad because she’ll be at our house, where I’ve got more security than this place. Plus, I’ve got people constantly there, living on the property. Eyes on her twenty four seven. I should have never let her come here. Put her out in the open like I did. Someone is after her, and now I have to put her in hiding.

“Sir?” Beau calls out behind me.

I lean in and kiss her forehead. “I’ll be home soon, little darling.” Taking her hand, I walk her over to Beau. “Take her upstairs to get her things.” She will need sone clothes, her cell, and car keys. “Then take her straight home. Text me when you drop her off and get your ass right back here.”

“Yes, sir.” He nods and then I watch her get on the elevator, her head down, staring at the floor. She can’t even look me in the eyes, and my chest tightens.

I hate that she’s mad at me, but as long as she’s alive, that’s all that matters. And I’m prepared to fucking blow anyone away who threatens her life. Once everyone is eliminated, I will make sure she understands how much she means to me.

LAIKYN

For a week, I’ve been locked in our house. I haven’t spoken much to my husband, and he hardly comes home. Now I know why he lives at the club. When he does show up, it’s around five in the morning most days. And then he spends hours of his day in his home office. And then he leaves around six in the evening to go back to Blackout.

If he’s mad at me, he hasn’t shown it. There hasn’t been any anger, yelling, or hurtful words. It’s like we’re my parents—married for most of our life and ignoring one another. And still no sex. Gavin has come over twice to give me a checkup, and both times he told me everything looked great.

Another night alone in this house. Our home. It feels weird being here after spending so much time at Blackout. And the more time that goes by that he makes me stay here, the more and more anxious I grow about the damn cell phone that my father gave me.

I enter the spare bedroom and turn on the light. I look over my wedding dress that William had put in a glass case. He asked me yesterday where I wanted it to go in the house. I didn’t have an answer for him. It wasn’t what I wanted, but does that even matter? It is a pretty dress, and I’d hate to just burn it. Although setting it all on fire would make me happy.

Walking over to one of the boxes, I open it to find all the candles along with the champagne flutes from the hotel room. If I could go back, I’d take that drink that he offered me after the wedding. Who knew he’d cut me off afterward?

I open the other box next to it and see something inside that catches my eye. It’s a small vial of liquid. My teeth grind when I realize I’ve seen it before. It was quick, but I remember it.

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