Chaotic (L.O.R.D.S. #7) — Chapter no 29

TWENTY-NINE

KASH TON

’ve spent the last two days with Eve at her house. She’s beenI quiet. Standoffish. But it doesn’t bother me. After I found her sit‐ ting on the bathroom floor, I picked her up and carried her to bed.

She let me hold her for an hour while she cried, then it was like a switch had been flipped, and she wanted nothing to do with me.

Saint and Haidyn have been blowing up my phone. I told them I’m away taking care of some thing and that I’ll see them at the re cep‐ tion tonight.

Eve seems to be herself again—hating me. Like I give a fuck. I feel a little hatred is a good foundation for a re la tionship. If she doesn’t want to kill me daily, then I don’t want it.

A woman like Everett needs to be challenged, and I’m more than willing to do that. I can get her past the hatred and self-doubt she hides when no one is looking.

It will just take time and re assurance. She spent last night down‐ stairs in the base ment in her rage room breaking shit, and I let her. I haven’t tried to touch her sexu ally since I found her crying. Even I know you can’t rush these things. She needs to work through her feelings. It was the first time she hadn’t thrown up after I fucked her. Baby steps.

I pull up to her house and get out of my car, grabbing what I need from my passenger seat. I left this morn ing to go pick up some things she’s going to need. En tering, I hear “Never Too Late” by Three Days Grace blaring from her bedroom.

Making my way down the hall, I walk in, placing the bags on her bed, and stop in the doorway of her bathroom, silently watching her

stand at the counter, looking at herself in the mirror. She didn’t hear me enter over the music.

She’s getting ready for our date. It’s my first time announcing her as mine to our world. No one knows that we’re going together. I want to see how they re act to my girl. That way I can make sure to keep her from the ones who seem threatened after what they’ve been told.

I openly gawk at what’s mine with out shame. Her hair is fixed in a bun at the nape of her neck, just like it was the night I saw her on theIsabella. Seeing it gives me a pain in my chest. Those six years with out her feel wasted. Would things be different if I had not let her run from me that night? I’ll never know. But a part of me tells me that what we could have had and what our fu ture holds are two very different things.

The song comes to an end and “Wonderland” by Natalia Kills begins to play. She turns to walk into her bedroom but stops when she sees me blocking the doorway.

Her eyes immediately drop to the floor, and my hands fist at how her re ac tion is to avert her gaze. I want to put a posture collar around her delicate neck so she has to keep her head up and eyes on mine at all times. She makes herself small, and I don’t under‐ stand why.

The woman is a walk ing contradiction. She’s so strong and feisty in some as pects of her life and the complete opposite in others.

It’s her training. Something that was probably beaten into her. No amount of time can change that mentality.

I enter the bathroom and place my hand under her chin, forc ing her head up. My eyes look over her perfect face. She’s got thin black liner around her gorgeous eyes, making the green pop. Her lips are a nude glossy color and her cheeks a light pink. Her lashes are painted black with a shimmer ing shadow.

She’s stunning.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks.

“Long enough.” I an swer She huffs, looking away, and I drop my hand. “Come here.” I pull her into the bedroom.

She glances at the garment bag lying across her bed, and I pick up her phone, turn ing off the mu sic so we can hear each other talk.

“What is this for?”

“It’s your dress for tonight.”

Looking up at me, she gives me a death glare that I much pre fer to the sadness. “Kashton, I don’t need you to get me a dress.”

“I know.” I couldn’t re sist. I want everyone to know she’s my girl tonight. She’ll be on my arm, wearing my dress. Soon she’ll have my last name and will be wearing my ring.

Reach ing down, I unzip the bag and re move the contents, hold ing it out for her to see.

She swallows nervously while looking over it.

“I’ll give you a mo ment.” I lay the dress down and then kiss her fore head before stepping out of her room and closing the door be‐

hind me.

EVERETT I stare down at the royal-blue dress, conflicted. It’s beau tiful, but it’s a way of making me his doll—dressing me how he wants. Just to parade me around to his brothers. Show off what he’s been playing with.

It makes me want to vomit. But isn’t this what I’ve wanted? To be‐ long to someone?

I’m confused. Torn between wanting to be alone and wanting to be some one’s world.

I keep re mind ing myself that he’s not like the oth ers. He holds me afterward. He as sures me that he’s proud of me. But then again, it could simply be another form of manipu la tion. I feel like I’m going insane with my in tense mood swings and inconsistent thoughts.

Sitting down next to it, I run my sweaty hands over my shaking thighs. I could skip the re ception. I mean, they’re al ready mar ried; why even have this party?

But my father deserves my attention. He’s done so much for me. I owe him. He doesn’t want to hide me—his words. And although I’m proud of being his daughter, it’s still hard to accept.

De ciding, I know what I have to do. I tell myself that this has to be done. Kashton told me his friends think I’m the one putting their

wives in danger.

I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a threat to their Ladies.

If I hide, it’ll be like telling them they’re right. I refuse to let them believe that. I’d never hurt them. I’ve been the innocent one forced into a world that only saw me as a toy to use.

There fore, I’m going to show my face, hold my head high, and let them see who the fuck I am. No more hid ing. No more being known as a nobody.

I’m a fucking some body.Yeah, Kashton’s toy.

Picking up the dress, I pull it on and stand in front of the mirror. I run my hands down the silk fabric and feel a sense of pride.

I’ll behis, but also, there will be no going back after this.

I want to laugh at that thought. Like I ever stood a chance of get‐ ting away from him. Maybe I don’t want to. I like that he plays with me. That he can’t get enough of me.

Be ing Kashton’s toy and being a doll are two different things, right?

One feels good and the other was a death sentence.

It’s just afterward that I’ve got to train my mind to understand. The doubt and falling back into my own head. It’s a dark place that I can’t dig myself out of some times. I was raised to not enjoy sex—it was only for the men’s pleasure. Then my father sold me to Doll‐ house, and that was an entirely different type of hell. You’re forced to enjoy it. They want your body to turn on you.

I wasn’t lying to Kashton. I love when he forces me to come. It takes away having to think about it. But afterward, shame fills me because I enjoy it.

The door opens and I turn to face him. Kashton comes to a stop, shoving his hands into his dress slacks. He looks so hand some in a black suit and royal-blue silk tie. It matches the color of my dress perfectly. He’s what dreams are made of. If I were a princess and he were a prince, we’d sail off into the sunset and live happily ever af‐ ter. But I’m well aware that’s not how our story will go. Although I’m willing to pre tend for him.

His blue eyes rake over my body, and when they meet mine, he walks toward me. “It’s missing some thing.”

My stomach drops, and I nervously shuffle from foot to foot. He’s changed his mind. He no longer wants to be seen with me. Kash‐ ton’s finally re alized I’m too damaged. Even for him. And he doesn’t even know the real me…what I’ve been through.

Fuck, I need a drink. Picking up the dress, I go to step out of the room, but he grabs my arms and stops me with a frown. I let go of my dress and stay where I’m at, waiting to see what he meant.

He re moves a box from the top of my dresser, and I wonder how long it’s been there. He hands it to me.

I glance at him, and his eyes give nothing away. Just a blank can‐ vas of blue sky. They’re pretty enough to get lost in. I’ve never got‐ ten to stand on a beach and look over the ocean with the sun shin‐ ing down on me, but when I look into his eyes, I imagine it’d be the same. I’m just missing the sand between my toes and the smell of saltwater.

Taking the box, my fin gers shake as I nervously untie the GRAFF ribbon and open it to re veal a diamond necklace. It sparkles against the black felt that it lies on. “It’s beautiful.”

“The Classic Butterfly Diamond necklace.” He smiles proudly.

“Butterfly?” My wide eyes meet his.

“You have a butterfly tattoo.” His smile falters with doubt. “I just figured you liked them.”

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I nod. “I do.”

“Allow me.” He holds his hand out, and I turn, giving him my back.

He fas tens it around my neck before I face him.

“Is this a way for you to claim me?” I ask, reaching up and running my fingers over the di amonds. “Collar me for all to see?”

He tilts his head to the side in thought. “Is that such a bad thing?

To belong to me?”

“No,” I say breathlessly, hating how good that sounds. I have a feeling this will mean more than the forty-eight hours he made me his.

Kashton picks up another sack that’s on the dresser, and I see Beauvince written on it. I swallow nervously. “You didn’t—”

“I did,” he interrupts me, giving me a smile that lights up his hand‐ some face and shows off two dimples. Fuck, it makes me weak in

the knees. Pulling a box out, he opens it for me, and I gasp.

“Kashton.” My eyes go from the diamonds to his and then back to it.

“Beauvince Eloise diamond bracelet,” he explains, re moving it from the box. “It consists of round, marquise, and pear-shaped dia‐ monds.” Kashton then wraps it around my wrist, fas tening the two locks. I blink as he goes back to the sack. “There’s more?”

“Two. One for each wrist.” He places the second one on and slides them over the bruises that the hand cuffs left from the last time I let him touch me. “Our little secret,” he whis pers.

I swallow against the knot that re turns and look away from him.

“Why?” I can’t help but whisper.

“I just want to spoil you.”

His words are innocent, and I hate that I believe him. That he may not have an agenda. Maybe he does want to spoil me. The thought also enters my mind that his love language is gift giving and I’m nothing special—he gives every woman he fucks gifts.

“You look stunning, Eve.” Kash ton takes in my appearance with a long, slow once-over. His heated eyes burn my skin.

I hate that butterflies fill my stomach. Life isn’t supposed to be like this for me. I’m not the girl someone mar ries. Or loves, for that mat‐ ter. I’m the whore they fuck. The one they use. I don’t receive gifts.

No one puts in that kind of effort for me. I don’t want to be the stupid girl who gets attached only for him to leave me. I’ve survived a lot, but I’m not sure I could survive that kind of loss.

He places his fin gers under my chin and lifts my head. His lips softly touch mine, and I kiss him back before he pulls away.

“Ready?”

I take a shaky breath at the loaded question. This is more than us hid ing out in my house where no one can find us. “Yeah. I just need to grab my purse.”

He nods, letting go of me, and I walk into my bathroom and closet, try ing to calm my breathing. I take a second to collect my thoughts before I grab my Christian Louboutin clutch off the shelf, ready to

go.

This is it.

We pull up to the valet in front of the mansion, and a man opens his door and another gets mine. I step out and wait for Kashton to walk around to me. He keeps my hand in his as we make our way up the steps and in side. There are two men dressed in tuxe dos standing in the grand foyer. They greet us as two more enter, telling us to fol‐ low them.

We walk through the house and to the ballroom. I spot his broth ers at a round ta ble immediately. You can’t miss them. They’re the out‐ casts of the Lords. The majority of Lords run multibillion-dollar com‐ panies. The Spade broth ers run their hell—a dungeon full of torture devices.

I keep my head high, but my heart is pounding at the feeling of so many eyes on me. I see Ashtyn lean ing into Saint, speak ing into his ear. I bet she’s asking,Who is that woman with Kashton?

Saint shakes his head, not having an answer, and she sits back in her chair. She looks me up and down, eyes full of judgment. I want to laugh. She’s the last one who should judge anyone.

Haidyn and Saint both stand as we approach the ta ble. Kashton re‐ leases my hand as he brings each of the guys in for a hug. I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath. I’m not some one who makes themselves small in a room full of people; not anymore.

I demand to be seen and heard. So I’m going to make sure they know who the fuck I am.

Saint turns to me first and Kashton intro duces me. “Guys, this is Everett. Eve, these are my broth ers, Haidyn and Saint.”

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you.” I shake Saint’s hand.

He looks me up and down before I turn my attention to Hai dyn. He also shakes my hand, and I wish the floor would swallow me up.

“Nice to meet you.” He nods and then turns to sit down next to his wife, dismiss ing me.

He doesn’t recognize you, Eve. It’s in your head.

Kashton pulls out my seat and takes my hand to help me sit. I take a deep breath as the guys intro duce me to their wives. Charlotte

looks so innocent and sweet. Just like she is. Ashtyn looks like she wants to murder me. The feeling is mutual.

She had everything. Four men who loved and would do anything for her, and she threw it away. In the end, she lost the baby anyway.

Even I know that the Spade broth ers would have pro tected it just like they did her. If you ask me, she had choices and she chose

wrong.

Saint de serves better.