Chapter 9

Elvie's hysterical screams echoed off the high ceilings of the foyer. She clung to the wooden banister, her makeup running down her face in dark streaks.

"Please! He's just a boy! Take my hand instead!" Elvie wailed, looking down at Donovan.

Warren remained frozen on his knees, his forehead pressed against the cold marble floor. He knew begging was useless. If Donovan Suarez wanted a hand, his men would take it, and the NYPD wouldn't even blink.

Donovan's face remained completely impassive. He looked at the crying mother and the terrified son with the same emotion he would look at dirt on his shoe. He turned his body, ready to walk out the door and let his men handle the butchery.

Preston raised his hand, signaling the two massive bodyguards waiting outside to come in.

Suddenly, Celina stepped forward.

She reached out her hand. Her small, pale fingers pinched the fabric of Donovan's custom-tailored suit jacket. She gave it a tiny, almost imperceptible tug.

The entire room seemed to stop breathing.

Preston's eyes widened in horror. He thought the girl had a death wish. No one touched Donovan Suarez.

Donovan stopped mid-step. He slowly turned his head. His dark, dangerous eyes dropped down to her fingers gripping his jacket.

Celina tilted her head up. Her clear, freezing eyes locked onto his.

"Let it go," Celina said. Her voice was calm, quiet, and completely steady.

She wasn't pleading for Dock's life. She didn't care if Dock bled out on the floor. But she didn't want the police swarming the house on her first day back. She had her own plans, her own secrets, and she absolutely refused to owe this terrifying man a debt she couldn't pay.

Donovan stared into her eyes. He saw the stubborn pride burning in them.

The violent, dark rage swirling in his chest instantly dissolved. The physical contact of her hand on his jacket sent a wave of calm straight into his nervous system.

A low, dark chuckle vibrated in Donovan's chest.

The sound was rich and smooth, but it terrified Warren even more than the screaming.

Donovan reached over and wrapped his large, warm hand around Celina's wrist. He gently pulled her hand away from his jacket. Then, he flipped her palm open and pressed the ten-million-dollar, scratched Patek Philippe into her hand.

He didn't look at her. He looked down at Warren.

"Since she asked," Donovan said, his voice dripping with absolute authority. "He keeps the hand."

Warren let out a loud gasp of air, sobbing in relief. Elvie collapsed against the stairs, thanking God.

But Donovan wasn't finished.

"Bring him down here," Donovan commanded, pointing a finger at the stairs. "He apologizes to her. Until she is satisfied."

He made it clear. The apology wasn't for him. It was for Celina. He was handing her the absolute power over her abuser.

Warren didn't hesitate for a second. He scrambled up the stairs, grabbed Dock by the collar of his shirt, and dragged him down the steps like a sack of garbage.

Warren kicked Dock hard in the back of the knees.

Dock crashed to the marble floor, landing directly at Celina's feet.

Dock's face was covered in snot and tears. He was shaking so hard his teeth chattered. He looked up at Celina, the girl he had called trash just minutes ago.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Dock choked out, his voice cracking with humiliation.

Celina looked down at him. She didn't say it was okay. She didn't accept the apology. She just stared at him with dead, cold eyes, letting the silence stretch out and crush his ego into dust.

A full minute passed. The silence was agonizing.

Finally, Celina looked away.

Donovan watched her reaction. A look of deep satisfaction crossed his face. He looked at Celina one last time.

"Keep the watch safe," Donovan murmured, his voice low and fiercely possessive, cementing the invisible chain he had just wrapped around her.

He turned around and walked out the front doors, Preston trailing right behind him.

The heavy doors shut. The engine of the Maybach roared to life and faded down the driveway.

The crushing pressure in the room finally lifted. Warren collapsed onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Elvie ran down the stairs to hug Dock. Karrie stared at the watch in Celina's hand, her eyes burning with toxic jealousy.

Celina gripped the heavy metal watch. It was still warm from Donovan's skin.

She knew this wasn't a gift. It was a chain. He had just tied himself to her.

Without looking at her pathetic family, Celina adjusted her backpack and walked down the hallway toward the small guest room in the back of the house.