CHAPTER 28 — SOUL DEEP

Stepping into his home for the second time still managed to rob the breath the away from my lungs, same way it did the first time with all its elegant opulence and extravagant wealth dripping from the chandeliers all the way to the imported Persian rugs and ornate furniture.

His helps lugged my bags into the penthouse, and I paused at the threshold of the grand foyer, staring at the screaming wealth and elegance with open eyed awe.

"Shut your mouth, Verity." He drawled lazily. "You're drooling over my expensive rug."

My mouth snapped shut and I shot him an angry glare, my cheeks red with embarrassment.

He laughed lightly and squeezed my hand, and I realized that my hands had been in his throughout the entire journey here.

He was smiling at me, but he looked disturbed, his eyes were pensive and there were worry lines etched onto his forehead. He was probably trying to use humor and banter to cover up just how concerned he was about everything going on.

I wish he knew that he didn't have to hide from me. I was heartbroken over everything that had happened. It never occurred to me that King Wilder was capable of such heinous acts. Burning the dance studio. My home. The only thing that gave me purpose. And stealing all the money we had raised. I had thought that such things would be beneath him, but I now realized that he was capable of all these and more. So much more.

My heart cracked in two as I remembered how much had happened in the past few days. My lips trembled.

"Verity." Lennox's voice came again, gentle and coaxing this time around.

I looked up at him, gasping a bit and cracking under the weight of the heavy emotions in his blue eyes.

"Everything will be okay. He will pay for this."

I swallowed and nodded, believing him with all my heart.

"Come. I'll show you to your room," he said, tugging on my arm and I followed after him as he led me through a long hallway lined with egg white walls and fancy lights, then into a room that had already been prepared for me.

My heart melted at the sight of the room. Unlike most of the walls in the penthouse, this room had walls that were a soft shade of lilac. A huge, king-sized bed sat against a part of the wall, perfectly laid with lilac sheets and a gazillion pillows. A beautiful chandelier hung over the bed, casting a soothing glow over the bed and washing the entire room in soft sleepy yellow light.

The room was complete with a walk-in closet already pre-stocked with clothes that had me quirking an unbelievable eyebrow at Lennox, who pretended to avoid my gaze. The en-suite had an actual Jacuzzi that I promised to soak myself in before I had to move back out. There was a vanity in the corner and large windows that made up an entire wall, the view of the city below us offered a nice backdrop, with the sky turning a beautiful shade of pink and red as the sun set into the horizon.

"I'll leave you to change and get used to the place. I have some work to attend to, but I'll be back in time for dinner. Try not to miss me too much."

I had been admiring the delicate glass figurines hanging from the chandelier, but at the sound of his profane talk, my head snapped around to look at him. I snorted, wanting to wipe that smug look out of his face. "You wish." I scoffed.

Suddenly, he was upon me. He was close to me, so close that I could feel the primal heat radiating off him. "As much as I would love to stay and make you eat your words…" His voice dropped to a husky, sensual whisper as he emphasized the word 'make' laced with heavy innuendo, "Duty calls and I have responsibilities. Save some of that sass for later?" His eyes winked mischievously.

My cheeks turned red and hot with blazing embarrassment. "Y... You can't tell me what to do!" I protested lamely. "In fact, I'll spend up all this sass before you even return, just to spite you."

"Yeah, 'cause that's real mature."

"Fuck you!"

"I'll take you up on that offer. Tonight?"

My face probably looked like an overripe tomato right now, considering how hot I felt, and he chuckled lightly, kissing my cheek briefly and strolling out of the room.

I scoffed at him. Smug idiot.

I got to pay him back at dinner time, dressed in one of the exquisite gowns he had stocked my closet with. Okay, I won't take all the glory. Shaye picked it out for me. And the little demon was gleaming with wicked pride as her father choked on his words and turned speechless when he saw me.

I was wearing a backless short elegant black dress with a sweetheart neckline and cinched bodice that clung to my curves and accentuated my tiny waist and round hips. It had a slit all the way to my hip that left little to the imagination. My jewelry was a simple pearl necklace, earrings, and nothing else, and my makeup was concealer, winged eyeliner, and bright red lipstick.

I knew this was probably too much for a family dinner, especially with a ten-year-old girl in the mix but the look on Lennox's face was definitely worth it.

"Shut your mouth, Lennox." I repeated what he had said to me. "You're drooling all over the dinner table."

His eyes snapped out of their Verity induced trance and he blinked at me, his eyes smoldering. He leaned in close when Shaye left to help set the table. "I want to splay you on that table like my own personal feast and eat you out until you're screaming my name."

That wiped the triumphant smirk from my lips. My core throbbed painfully with a violent need that made my knees wobble.

"Not so big and tough now, are you, Verity?" His smile was wicked, smug.

Prick.

"Dad! V! Come on! I'm starving!" Shaye complained, stamping her feet and beckoning on us to come over.

Dinner was set and we took our seats. I let out a shocked gasp when Lennox chose to sit beside me, instead of at the head of the table but I saw no reason to fret about it... Until I felt his fingers on my thigh, tracing soft, languid circles along my inner thigh.

I looked at him, his expression was aloof, nonchalant as he asked Shaye about her day and what she wanted for Christmas, smiling every once in a while, while his adept fingers did wicked things to me under the dining table.

My body ached to feel his hands on me, and I leaned into my seat, slouching a bit, encouraging his fingers to ride higher and higher.

"V said I did a perfect pirouette. Right, V?" Shaye suddenly asked.

I snapped out of my sinful thoughts, my breathing heavy, my voice, hoarse. "What?" I blinked at her, confused.

"Tell him! Tell him how you think I would make a good ballerina."

Lennox propped his elbow on the table and dropped his cheek on his knuckle, smiling wickedly at me as his fingers stroke lazy, indolent circles, climbing higher and higher up my thigh. "Yes, Verity. Do tell."

I swallowed, my cheeks and neck hot and flushed, my head spinning, my body screaming to be touched. "Y... Yes. Of course,'' and launched into why I thought Shaye would make a good dancer under more professional guidance.

Dinner droned on longer than I would have wished for, Lennox's finger, an ever-present distraction as I tried to be involved with the conversation but ended up fighting a mental battle to not beg him to bend me over the table and screw my brains out.

I was ridiculously wet and flaming hot by the time dinner was over and I made a stupid as hell excuse before dashing straight into my room and hitting the shower to get my body under control.

I was still in my plush bathrobe, patting my hair dry when the call came in.

Mum.

I stared at the phone vibrating persistently on my vanity. Anxiety shot down my spine, my entire body froze over as I stared at the phone, refusing to take the call.

She called five more times before the line went dead.

Pain attacked my heart. I closed my eyes and placed a fist on my chest, my heart racing, my knuckles turning white from clenching too tight.

Someone knocked softly on the door, snapping me out of my internal reverie and when I opened the door, Lennox immediately fell into my arms.

"Woah, big guy." I laughed nervously. "You okay?"

"No." His voice came, muffled against my shoulder. "Tired." My heart throbbed painfully at the despair in his voice, and he just hugged me close to him, kicking the door shut behind him and clutching me to his chest. "Are you okay?"

"No." I admitted.

"Want me to get a drink?"

"God, yes!" I sighed into his shirt.

He pressed a lingering kiss to my temple and left the room, returning minutes later with a bottle of wine and two wine glasses.

"Oh wow. Moët & Chandon."

He looked at me, his lips curving into an amused smile. "You know your drinks."

"Don't be impressed." I disappointed him quickly. "I just see the stuff a lot on Pinterest."

He rolled his eyes playfully and ambled into the room. Soon, we were sitting on my bed, sipping expensive champagne.

"You first," he said without preamble.

"Geez, we're jumping right in, aren't we?" I huffed, my cheeks hot from merely sitting so close to him.

My robe had split open from perching at the edge of my bed, my legs crossed, exposing so much leg skin I couldn't cover up if I tried.

His gaze was heavy on my exposed thighs and memory of dinner left me feeling hot and breathless, but I tried to pull myself into the semblance of a perfectly articulate young lady.

"My mum called." I sighed, twirling the champagne around in my glass, my heart getting heavier and heavier by the second.

"Okay..."

"She wants me to come home."

He raised an eyebrow at me patiently, light blue eyes, turning darker with concern.

"I've not been home in five years."

"Why?"

The golden question.

Even now, my spirit broke at the truth. My heart was heavy with the weight of my memories. "Where do I start?" I whispered, my champagne, forgotten as my memories, dark and disgusting as they were, pushed forward to take front and center stage in my head.

Where do I start?

"Start from the beginning." Was his firm reply.

"The beginning?" A humorless chuckle escaped my lips. "After my sister died, the entire family felt the impact of it. I could always dance good. I always wanted to be a star. But Penelope? She was born for it. The stage was hers and nobody could deny that she was the better dancer. She was going to be a star on the grand stage, she was the one with the big dreams and the talents to go with it and everyone had great expectations from her. She wanted to be someone. She wanted to do so much and after she died, I took it upon myself to actualize her dreams for the both of us. I moved to LA, the city where all you need to get started was a dream and the courage to believe, but I quickly found out, that's not how it works.

"I faced rejection after rejection. Doors slammed in my face. They said they wanted unique talent but really, they just wanted rich people’s kids to take the good spots. The industry is rigged and it's not what they sell to us on TV. I did... I did awful things to try to make it and it only contributed to my downward spiral. I fell into the wrong crowd, did all the wrong things." My empty hand curled into fists as I remembered that awful, awful time of my life. The sex. The drugs. The parties and cliques I fought to be a part of with hopes that I would get noticed. All I needed was one, just one big break to make it.

The big break never came. But it succeeded in breaking me.

"It wasn't until I was at my lowest before I met Val and started to pick myself back up. I found a job at the dance studio that's now... You know..." Burnt to ashes, thanks to a certain dick face. "I promised myself that I would never show up again in their face until I have amounted to something. I can't stand being an embarrassment... A disappointment to them. I can't stand not having anything to show for all my years of absence."

He was quiet for a few minutes and then he sighed, downing the rest of his champagne. "You're their daughter. The way it looks, I think before anything, before any honorable goal you may have, they just miss you and want to see the last surviving daughter they have before she's taken away from them like the other one."

All the breath left my lungs.

"I...never looked at it like that."

He shrugged. "You're all they have left. If they feel anything for you the way I feel for my Shaye, they don't mind if you became Beyonce or Gwyneth Patra, you'll always be the little girl they will always adore and be proud of for the mere fact that she has another day to live, so give them a call will you? Life's too short to wait around for opportunities, eh? Let's cherish the ones we have before it's taken away from us."

My hands relaxed.

I realized that I had been clenching it tight all along. Peace and warmth suddenly coursed through my veins.

"How about you?" I asked, placing my glass in the bedside table and sitting up on the bed, leaning against the pillows. I brought my legs up and rested a chin on my knees, staring at him curiously. "What got you so tired?"

"King fucking Wilder." He cursed lowly, but his voice was more tired than lethal.

"What does he want?"

"He wants me to transfer ownership of the company back to him."

"And will you?"

"Over my dead fucking body!" His voice was lethal now, stubborn and firm.

"Why not?"

The question took him by surprise. His entire body went slack. "It's one aspect of my life I have full control over. All my life, everything has been handed over to me on a platter of gold; my money, the company... Heck! Even... Even Andrea."

I blinked. "Your ex-wife?"

He nodded, sighing painfully. Raking his hands through his hair. "Yes. It was an arranged marriage, calculated by none other than my fucking sperm donor. We grew to love each other but we had been brought together by our respective fathers. I always felt like a puppet dancing to the tune of King's music. Gaining control of the company was the first real time I've ever had total control over anything. I made the company into what it is today, and it gave me leverage over him. He wants it back because he wants to go back to lording his power over me, to subduing me with his authority. I'll never be that Lennox again. I'll fight tooth and nail to keep this."

"So, all this...is about...power?" I whispered quietly.

His smile was soft and wistful. "No, Verity. It's about freedom."

All the breath seemed to escape my lungs at the sad, soulful look in his eyes.

"Besides Shaye, the company was the only thing I would die fighting for... Until..." He trailed off.

"Until?" I prompted.

"Until King did what he did to the dance studio. Until I saw how much he hurt you... Now? I don't mind fighting for you too."

My heart skidded off a cliff. I choked on a happy burst of air.

He sighed and crouched closer towards me, his hands, tracing my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I don't know what it is about you, Verity. But I'll go down fighting if it means I get to protect you too."

I didn't even have any time to catch my breath because he took my lips in his, kissing me slow, deep, passionate and hungry.

I couldn't keep my hands to myself. I took his face in my hands and kissed him back with everything I had in me.

He climbed unto the bed, hovering over me, his eyes deep, dark, beautiful and he was kissing me again, with a heavy, desperate need this time around that had my head spin and my vision blur.

Soon, we were grasping at our clothes, moaning into our kisses, desperately clawing at the physical barriers between us to shed off what obstructed our skins from touching.

With our clothes discarded, it wasn't long until he was inside of me, connecting us in a subliminal way. My heart was in my throat, and he was staring deep into my soul and when he pulled back only an inch to plunge back into me, I couldn't think of a better feeling than this.

He took it slow, and I matched his gentle, deep thrusts with everything I had to give, kissing his lips, tangling my hands into his hair as he caressed me, worshiped my body, whispered sweet things, embarrassing things I may tease him about later.

"Stay, stay with me." He whispered, kissing me softly on the lips.

And I shocked myself with my response, not fighting it, giving in to his gentle requests. "You have me. I'm not leaving."

Not now. Not ever.