The Foiled Plan (War of Sins Book 2)

Brushing his cheek against her shoulder, he lifted the zipper on her dress.

‘You look extraordinary, pet,’ he murmured, watching how her expression brightened in the mirror.

They’d arrived at Liam Cooke’s house late in the afternoon, and they’d been given a suite of their own. As guests of honor, they were among the few who were invited to spend the weekend with the Cooke family and deepen their connection. After all, this was to be an intimate affair with only a few worthy families attending.

His pet had been awe struck by the opulence, her eyes wide as she’d taken in the luxury of Cooke’s home.

A stately mansion, it had been built sometime in the beginning of the nineteenth century, and had been in Cooke’s family for generations. Situated at the outskirts of D.C. it was also one of the places that had hosted a slew of former presidents and forefathers of American Independence.

Though it had been largely remodeled after the War of 1812, the house still retained many of its original features, which included an impressive ballroom, a conservatory, and expansive grounds that housed a maze, and a singing fountain.

‘Thank you,’ she blushed a deep red. ‘I’m not used to wearing something so fancy…’ she trailed off, her eyes scouring her figure in the mirror.

She was dressed in a pale mauve gown that was molded to her body. Satin draped in crystals, she looked absolutely stunning, and Michele was glad he’d spent a small fortune on her dress. He knew that she’d never worn anything like this before, her usual wear consisting of loose hoodies and baggy jeans. Even for him, the sight of her like this threatened to make him lose the little control he had left.

Tucking her pendant in the neckline of her dress, she turned to him.

‘We should head downstairs. Dinner is about to be served,’ he said in a thick voice, willing his eyes to stray from her tight little body. He quickly donned his leather gloves before offering her his arm.

She hooked her arm through his, letting him lead her down the stairs. Her walk was slightly off, but he attributed that to the fact that she’d worn heels—another novelty for her.

Her family still considered her too young to allow her to dress up or wear make-up, and he knew that this occasion was an extravagance for her. And while he couldn’t help the sliver of pride that erupted within him at the sight of her exquisite beauty—especially on his arm—he found himself a little reluctant to share her with the world.

For once, he wouldn’t be the first one to take note of the loveliness that hid within her—for she was lovely. More so than any other woman he’d ever seen.

And she was his.

His grip tightened on her as he noted the guests already gathered at the bottom of the stairs, all turning their eyes to them as they reached the landing.

‘Mr. Guerra,’ Liam Cooke approached him, his hand outstretched.

‘Mr. Cooke,’ he grabbed it in a shake, masking his distaste and putting on his social persona.

He’d long learned how to play the game, and though he dreaded the contact with these people, it was necessary to advance his goals.

‘And…’ he trailed off as he redirected his attention towards his pet.

‘This is my girlfriend,’ he introduced her, keeping it short in an unspoken warning—she was off limits.

‘Wonderful. Why don’t you head to the ballroom. Everyone should be there. We’ll mingle a little before dinner is served,’ Liam smiled before he moved to greet the other guests.

His pet kept a small smile on her face as he led her towards the ballroom, and he was pleased to see she was listening to his instructions. The less she interacted with people the better. After all, she was here as a smokescreen first and foremost. Besides, he didn’t exactly want her to open her mouth and make a fool of herself.

The moment they entered the ballroom, he could feel the feminine stares directed at him, as well as the envy that took root once they realized he was not alone.

‘Why is everyone staring at me?’ His pet whispered, a slight tremor going down her body.

He tucked her closer to him.

‘They’re jealous. They see you on my arm and they wish it was them instead,’ he told her blankly.

A few other men came his way, some looking for an introduction, others to deepen their connection. Michele was, after all, already famous for his business acumen and a lot of people were vying for his attention and maybe, his advice.

He made small talk with each and every one that came his way, remembering names, and cataloging important information for later use.

From the beginning, Michele had had one purpose in coming to Cooke’s home—to increase his circle of political connections. He was aware that if he wanted to make D.C. his future home, he needed solid backing. Cooke was merely a stepping stone for his project.

‘Michele, dear,’ Eloise’s screeching voice made him want to draw his gun out and blow her brains up.

He refrained.

He forced his lips in a pleasant smile as he turned to her, his pet by his side.

‘Eloise. I don’t see your father around,’ he gritted out.

‘I came on his behalf. He sends his regards,’ she batted her eyelashes at him.

His pet tensed by his side, and that’s when Eloise decided to notice her.

‘And who is this?’ she pushed her chin up as she looked at his pet in distaste.

‘My girlfriend,’ he said, loving the way the color drained from her face.

‘You can call me Zia,’ his pet offered, extending her hand.

Michele didn’t know whether to be shocked by the fact that his pet had spoken out of turn, or pleased by the scowl that marred Eloise’s features as she was forced to shake her hand.

‘I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend,’ she tried her best to keep the venom out of her voice.

‘She’s my everything,’ he intoned, smiling down at his pet in an attempt to drive the point across. Eloise narrowed her eyes at the two of them before releasing a loud huff and stalking out of the ballroom.

If it wasn’t enough, the same encounter was replicated a few more times as suddenly everyone took an interest in Michele’s date and matrimonial status.

He made an effort to be cordial with the guests, exhaling in relief when dinner was finally announced.

To his great chagrin, though, they’d been seated across from Eloise and a few of the other girls from her posey, while to their right and left were two pompous asses who seemed too focused on his pet’s cleavage to notice when the first course arrived.

Safe to say, his mood was black and only getting darker.

‘And how did you two meet?’ Eloise’s voice rang out, her predatorial eyes set on him.

A few other men expressed their curiosity as well, and Michele barely refrained from telling them it was none of their business—but a little bloodier.

‘It was fate,’ he forced a smile, noticing his pet was attempting the same. ‘I saw her and I knew I had to have her,’ he continued, a red tinge appearing on his pet’s cheeks at the compliment.

‘How old are you, Zia?’ Eloise addressed her directly.

A twitch in his jaw, he was ready to commit murder as he looked into Eloise’s smug expression while his pet was squirming in her seat.

‘I don’t see how that’s any of your business,’ he ended up saying, but his pet chose that exact moment to issue a reply.

‘Eighteen,’ she said, raising her chin.

Barely.

‘Eighteen?’ One of the girls shrilled. ‘Isn’t that too young?’

More people shushed around them, some praising Michele for scoring young pussy, while others seemed outraged at their age difference.

‘Now it makes sense,’ Eloise’s lips stretched in an evil smile. ‘She’s young and ignorant. That’s why she’d use the dessert spoon for soup,’ she chuckled.

His pet’s hand stilled mid-air, slightly trembling before placing it back on the table and choosing another.

‘That’s the serving spoon,’ Eloise remarked again.

He set his eyes on her, the eerily light color of his irises almost translucent. In combination with his ire, it was a deadly combination.

‘Here,’ he picked the right spoon and placed it in his pet’s hand.

She gave a tremulous smile and a hushed thanks as she lowered her gaze to her plate.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw her place the spoon into her soup, gathering some before bringing it to her mouth.

All eyes were on her.

Her hand was shaking badly, and just as she was about to bring the spoon to her lips, some of the bisque spattered on her front.

Giggles and ill-intent laughter sounded across the table. A look of mortification crossed her pet’s face as she quickly brought a napkin to her neckline, dabbing it to remove the stain.

‘I’m sorry,’ she turned her innocent eyes towards him, tears burning at their corners.

He noticed.

Sharply, he turned towards the table, intent on ignoring the embarrassing episode and the way he’d like nothing better than to turn the entire table upside down, and stuff everyone’s throats with their own feces so they would never laugh again.

The dinner continued

‘Your girlfriend is very cute.’ Another man noted, his eyes sparkling with interest as he assessed her. ‘How much?’ He asked blatantly.

Loud thuds started reverberating in his ears, his anger climbing to such a new height it was becoming increasingly harder to ignore it.

But ignore it he did. He had to.

To give in to the anger was akin to committing a massacre.

‘She’s not for sale,’ he maintained a pleasant smile as he replied.

‘Come on,’ the man laughed. ‘I’ll pay you a hundred thousand for a night,’ he continued.

He could feel the tension radiating from his pet. Her hands were two small fists in her lap as she tried her best to ignore the jibe.

‘She’s not for sale,’ he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Disgruntled voices started arguing, and he could see Eloise looking at him with a satisfied look on her face.

‘Your girlfriend doesn’t go out much, does she?’ she giggled, pointing to the mess in his pet’s plate. ‘This must be her first function. If she doesn’t even know how to eat…’ she trailed off, the others laughing with her.

His jaw twitched. Not only did he take the affront personally, since his pet was his property, but criticizing her was akin to criticizing him.

And that he could not allow.

Though clearly hungry, his pet put her utensils down. He could see her gaze at the food longingly, but for the remaining of the dinner she did not take even one more bite.

A smile pulled at his lips, pride blooming in his chest at her self-control and the fact that she did know how to behave in such a situation.

She may not know how to eat, but she did know how to stop bringing attention to herself.

‘She doesn’t have to go out,’ he murmured, ‘I keep her busy enough at home.’

The innuendo was clear, and Eloise flushed with anger. His pet, too, blushed to the roots of her hair, once more situating her gaze on her plate to avoid the malicious stares.

The jibes continued, and while he did his best to deflect them, he knew that his pet wasn’t unaffected. She’d stopped talking, and every time someone addressed her, she’d sneak her hand under the table to grab his, gazing up at him in question.

An hour later, everyone evacuated the dining room, once more heading towards the ballroom for socializing.

His pet trailed behind him, her arm on his for support.

‘Why are they so mean?’ she asked him when there was no chance of anyone else overhearing.

‘This is the way of the world. You have to get used to it,’ he told her in a rather brusque manner.

She didn’t reply, merely nodding as he led her to the ballroom.

If the humiliation from before had been bad, however, what awaited his pet in the ballroom was much worse.

Eloise seemed to have taken her role as ringleader seriously, and in an attempt to show how cultured she was, she insisted on a poetry session. Cook and his wife, both lovers of literature, immediately approved, praising it as an exquisite activity.

The staff brought chairs to the middle of the ballroom, and everyone formed a circle around. Since there were only about twenty people in total present, the arrangement felt both intimate and stifling. Michele almost cursed out loud when he realized everyone was going along with this ludicrous suggestion.

Bringing some collectible volumes from Cooke’s illustrious library, Eloise handed them around, instructing everyone to pick a poem, read it out loud, and discuss it as a group thereafter.

Michele scoffed at the idea. He knew the game was targeted at his pet, all in an attempt to show everyone how ignorant she was. He was surprised Eloise didn’t outrightly call her a peasant, since that’s how she’d been looking at her the entire night, her little jibes painting the picture perfectly.

Her idea of an entertaining activity and everyone’s approval revealed their elitist mindset, and aimed to put Eloise in a better light, showing her more worthy just by account of her superior education.

He saw right through her.

Oh, he saw very well, especially as she handed an Alexander Pope volume to his pet, smiling insidiously at her. He received a Shelly one—much easier to read and digest than the one his pet had gotten. But just as he was about to make a quiet exchange, Eloise spoke.

‘Why don’t we go around this way?’ She pointed to their side of the room, her eyes landing on his pet.

Startled, she quickly glanced at him for assurance.

But he could only defend her so much. And he’d done so repeatedly. Maybe not as overtly as it would have pleased her, but enough to send a message to everyone.

A message Eloise chose to ignore.

He gave her a quick nod, after which she returned her attention to the book.

Opening it, she sifted through the pages. He noted her increasing panic, especially as she turned page after page without really skimming the contents.

‘Let me help you,’ Eloise suddenly appeared in front of her, opening the book to a poem and dropping it in his pet’s lap.

Her sudden intake of breath alarmed him, and he frowned as he studied her better. She was pale, her muscles coiled tightly as she stared at the page in front of her.

He thought she was embarrassed about pronouncing the Old English Pope used in his verses, but as she started reading out loud, he realized the problem was totally different.

‘Phr-y-phryne,’ she barely said the word when he groaned out loud. Of course Eloise would choose that poem.

‘H-ad,’ she paused, scrunching her nose as she squinted at the page. ‘Ta-ta-lents,’ another pause as she read it softly before saying it out loud, ‘for man-mankind.’

He frowned. That wasn’t exactly hard to read. Sure, the meaning was obscene, but the verses themselves were not very difficult.

‘Op-open,’ another pause as she blinked, ‘she was,’ a deep intake of breath and more concentration, ‘and un…unconfined.’

Minutes stretched by as she barely finished the first verse. And as she stopped, glancing around, it was to find everyone staring at her. So focused she’d been on reading that she hadn’t realized the meaning of the words.

Eloise was watching her like a hawk, her smile wide and malefic as she realized she’d hit a weak spot.

‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you had trouble reading that,’ she said on a fake tone as she replaced the volume in his pet’s hands with a different one.

She was nothing if not accommodating as she once more attempted to read. This time, the prose was even easier, yet the execution was the same. Choppy. She couldn’t read normal words, and somehow he doubted it was stage fright.

By the time she finished her poem, she was all red and sweaty.

‘You don’t know how to read, do you?’ Another girl turned to her, asking point blankly.

She turned to him, her mouth agape, panic all over her features.

‘I’m sure it was the nerves, right, pet?’ he inquired, his voice taut.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all she said, looking away and barely holding back her tears.

‘What eighteen year old doesn’t know how to read?’

‘Where did you find her, Michele? You should think twice before dating someone like that.’

‘I would be so embarrassed to be seen with her.’

‘Who knows what hole she crawled out of,’ someone said in a mean voice. ‘I wouldn’t want to associate with those…’

The comments trickled in, everyone suddenly opining on his state of affairs and criticizing his pet—and by default him.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to bear it.

His pet, however, was so embarrassed, she barely dared to raise her gaze.

The activity continued, and while he tried to reassure her through small gestures, by the end of it she seemed inconsolable.

‘Go back to the room. I have some business to discuss with Cooke and I’ll find you later,’ he instructed her.

As was typical of these soirees, once the entertainment was over, it was time to talk business. And he knew he could not save face if he kept being confronted with the failures of his pet.

‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you,’ his pet whispered, coming closer and taking his hands in hers.

Usually, he was the one initiating any type of physical contact, his pet just following suit and abiding by his wishes. It was striking to see her make the first move. And to his great surprise, he found he didn’t mind it as much.

‘I know, pet. But you did. I need you to go back to the room and sleep it off,’ he gentled his tone, her downtrodden and dejected appearance hitting a spot deep within him.

While his pet trudged her way up the stairs to their suite, he redirected his attention to the meeting at hand.

Cooke and the other men present gathered in his study to discuss the merits of the new military base, all giving their obsolete opinions.

Michele pretended he cared, immersing himself in the conversation. The men were all sufficiently influential in their social circles to sway public opinion, but other than that, they wouldn’t prove to be much useful to his plans. Besides, the crooks currently present were but a handful of his new contacts in D.C.

As the minutes ticked by, he realized they would not be of much use to him.

Still, he continued to interact, as politeness dictated, while he thought of all the ways he would console his pet when he finally retired to his room. The most appealing way included, of course, her tears, and he was already salivating for a taste of them.

But as the topic of the new military base was quickly skipped over, the men started talking about other topics—money, drugs and women.

Not that Michele was surprised, considering those were the most prevalent topics in any circle. But seeing as he already had more money than he knew what to do with, drugs did not particularly interest him, and his woman was upstairs in his bed, he realized his time here had come to an end.

‘If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.’ He engaged in momentary platitudes before he finally breathed out, relieved, as he left the room.

They were lucky they hadn’t made another off handed comment about his pet, since now that their usefulness had considerably decreased, Michele wasn’t so inclined to behave anymore.

His mind honed on his pet, and as he took two stairs at a time, his fingers were already on the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning them as he thought of all the ways he’d have fun with her.

Opening the door to the room, it was to find it bathed in darkness, the contour of a small form huddled under the sheets, the only thing visible.

A smirk pulled at his lips, and without lingering, he grabbed on to the edge of the sheet, flinging it off her.

‘Have you been a good girl, pet?’ he asked suavely, but as the sheet slid off the bed, revealing the body underneath, he was in for a surprise.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ He thundered, his gaze taking in Eloise’s disgustingly naked body. ‘And where the hell is she?’