A small bout of turbulence shook the plane, dragging me from my thoughts and causing me to grip the arms of the chair. Darren remained unconcerned as he rested his chin in his hand, his eyes still focused on the screen of his laptop. He was watching something, and by the looks of it, he didn't like what he saw. His jaw was clenched, his eyes cold and narrow, clearly deep in thought. Something was going on; something he wasn't telling me, something he wouldn't tell me.
An announcement came over the speakers, declaring we were about to land. I looked out my window to find the approaching runway up ahead, excitement and nervousness mixing in my stomach. I could see Darren in my peripherals as he shut the laptop in obvious irritation and placed it in a bag by his seat. A few moments later, my body experienced the change in elevation, the pressure fluctuating before we finally hit the ground. I didn't know anything about landings, but it felt smooth.
When the plane finally came to a stop, the engines cut out, but my nerves increased. When the door was finally opened and the stairs released, Darren stood and escorted me out of the plane. Nodding at the pilot and co-pilot in obvious thank you, Darren led me down the stairs where we were greeted by three black BMWs and about six men dressed in black. They waited by the cars, their hands neatly placed in front of them, their blank expressions hindered behind dark sunglasses.
Darren kept a firm grip on my shoulder as he walked us to the middle car where one of his men opened the door for me.
"Sir," he said with a nod of acknowledgment to Darren.
Scooting inside, Darren followed me in, watching as I buckled my seat belt and turned my head to stare out the window. Moments later, more doors slammed shut, the car took off, and we were in motion. As I watched the outside pass by, I realized even though I'd been with Darren for the past five months, this was only the second time I'd been in a vehicle with him. I was grateful he allowed me to sit in the seat like a human being, instead of between his legs on the floor.
Darren ignored me for virtually the entire drive, which lasted about an hour. He spent most of his time typing away on his phone, and I was fine with that. The more shit that occupied his time, the better. At least then, I wouldn't have to deal with him.
Now that I'd been outside the estate, I couldn't help but smile as we passed through the small town to get to Darren's estate. The corners of my mouth curved as I remembered speeding off down the road on his Ducati, giving his men and the pocketed police department a run for their money.
"Something amusing?" Darren asked.
I smirked and casually pointed out the window. "I popped a wheelie on your bike right... there." I grinned, pointing to the exact spot as we drove by. "Pretty sure I scared the shit out of one of your guys." It was probably a bad idea to poke fun at the idea of my successful escape, but he was the one who asked.
When I turned my head back to Darren, the look he gave me was positively deadly. I gulped back my regret.
"Well, I hope it was enjoyable because you will never ride another motorcycle like that again," he said sharply.
I shook my head in disappointment. "You're wasting my talents," I said, turning my head back to the window.
"Excuse me?" Darren quipped, anger beginning to rise in his voice.
I exhaled a deep breath. "Penguins can't fly, but if you were to see one do it, you wouldn't try to stop it, now would you?"
Darren cocked an eyebrow, but I could tell he wanted me to elaborate.
"Guns, motorcycles, fighting? Not many girls come with the skills that I have. In your line of work, you're better off exploiting them than burying them."
"And what do you know of my line of work?" His eyes narrowed at me, dark slits just waiting for the challenge I was presenting.
I shrugged. "I know it's dangerous and beyond illegal. And I'm smart enough to understand that your life is probably under constant threat, especially considering you have two cars to flank us with a total of six men to protect you, which then inevitably, also puts my life in danger. Am I getting warm here?" I asked. I shouldn't sound so cocky, but he had to know I was right.
"I have a feeling you're trying to make some kind proposal," he sneered.
"I don't think you want to fully domesticate me, not really, anyway. Watering me down wouldn't be in your best interests, not when I have so much more to offer you than just a pretty face with a hot body."
Darren instantly relaxed, crossing his arms over his chest, and leaned back against his seat, a smirk on his lips and the cockiness of a crime lord giant. "And just what else exactly do you have to offer me?"
"You can feel secure in the fact that when I eventually become the target of your enemies, they'll regret trying to play the damsel in distress with me."
"And what makes you think you'll ever become said damsel in distress?"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. The moment you marry me is the exact same moment you declare me as your weakness to the world. You already know they will try to use me to get to you."
"They can try," he said, the cockiness in his voice unnerving. "And by try, I mean fantasize about it in their heads. You underestimate my capability in the underground and the civil world. My organization is much more than what you think it is, with ties further and deeper than you can imagine. Yet some will still try to cross me. I've been to war several times, Jaden, and I've never been beaten. So should the day come when some idiot decides to attempt to fulfill his little daydreams of overthrowing my empire, I will once again remind everyone why I am not to be fucked with."
Goddamn.
"So in response to wasting your talents, you have nothing to fear because I plan to have you match me in just about every one of my talents. The idea of anyone seeing you as my weakness will be gone before it's even thought of. I don't have weaknesses, Jaden, and I will not allow you to become one; therefore, you will be my strength instead."
I furrowed my brows in confusion.
His strength?
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that by the time I'm done with you, my enemies will not even bother marking you as a target because you will not be worth the bloodshed that you would deliver should you ever be trifled with."
A dark look came over Darren's eyes as he grinned with satisfaction of his plan, and I felt my stomach drop. He was going to make me like him, and I was too busy trying to figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
A few minutes later, I could see the black and gold gates to Darren's estate open for our entry. Trepidation swept over me as we pulled up to the house. More men waited outside for us, only this time, most of them carried assault rifles openly.
Darren opened the door and helped me out of the car. My eyes traveled among the men waiting for us, and I saw Scott heading them up at the front of the line. But Darren had his sights set on two super tall men who stood off to the side. His hand on my shoulder, he led me over to them, and I wondered if maybe they were my new babysitters.
"Sir," they both said with a nod.
Darren smiled. "Jaden, this is Clive and Owen," he said, pointing at each one. "They are your new bodyguards."
I looked up at him. "Clive and Owen. Seriously?" I nearly laughed. They were officially one name to me now.
"Absolutely. They are among my best men and have been trained to anticipate any little line of bullshit you might try to feed them to gain an advantage."
"Sounds like a challenge to me." I smirked, crossing my arms over his chest.
"You would see it that way. But the only thing I see is an invitation to getting your ass beat by me should you test them. Should you get out of hand, they will tranquilize you immediately, and I will deal with you when you wake. I suggest avoiding that as best you can."
"Noted," I replied with a nod as I studied them.
I didn't want to stare for too long, but the one named Clive had short buzzed black brown hair, zero scruff, and looked to be just a tad younger than Darren was. The other one, Owen, seemed even younger, late twenties with blond hair, slightly longer than Clive's. They both wore the same outfit as the guards on the tarmac, but the sunglasses they wore seemed a little different in shape—more angular and the color was different, certainly not standard.
I was beginning to see a pattern in the uniform of his men. It seemed the ones who guarded the house wore more combat gear, as if they were ready for an assault at any time, while the men who accompanied him, my guards included, wore less combative but more athletic. Normally, in the movies in organized crime, everyone wore suits but not Darren's men. They seemed to wear clothing more fit for their stations. It made sense. If I wanted guards protecting me, I wouldn't want them fighting in the restrictions of a suit either.
"She is to stay in her room for the remainder of the day," Darren suddenly said to them.
And just like that, I went right back to being treated like a child. I couldn't help but huff in disappointment.
Darren turned to me and bent down to kiss me on the cheek. "Behave," he warned in my ear and walked away to address Scott and several others.
Stupid fucker.
"This way, please, Miss Jaden," Clive said and immediately escorted me back to the house. A shadow of pain crossed me as I entered the house, the one I tried to run from so many months ago, and now, I was back, being nearly pushed up the stairs to my old prison cell.
Owen opened the door for me, and I reluctantly walked inside.
"We'll be just outside the door," Owen said, but it was meant as more of a warning. "There are men patrolling your windows, so don't get any ideas. Your dinner will be brought to you shortly. Knock if you need anything." He then closed the door and locked it, actually leaving me alone in my cell.
Exhaling deeply, I turned to examine my old room, finding it looked the same. Everything was in its place, exactly as it had been left. Padding over to the bathroom, I looked below the window I had tossed my Molotov cocktail out of and noticed the damage fixed. But after seeing the guard with an assault rifle and a German shepherd come into view, I immediately ducked back inside. I didn't want them thinking I had ideas. Opening the cabinets, I found a lot of shit missing. There was no more alcohol, nail polish remover, bath oils, matches, or even candles, for that matter. All my sharp little tools like my cuticle cutters, metal nail file, nail scissors, even my rat-tail comb was removed. Obviously, someone was a little paranoid and a little overcautious. He had my damn family on the table. I wasn't going to jeopardize that by attempting to stab him with a nail file.
Shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all, I took a long hot shower, hoping to smooth out some of the kinks that had worked themselves into my shoulders. When I was done, I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped out into my bedroom only to jump back to see Clive Owen standing by my table. They both immediately turned their eyes in another direction.
"What are you doing?" I asked them, clutching my towel even tighter.
"We've been instructed not to leave until you've finished your dinner," Clive said.
I rolled my eyes. "Do you mind if I get dressed first, or do I have to eat right this second?"
"Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Jaden," Clive answered.
Yeah, okay...
Shaking my head, I walked into closest to find the exact same clothes as before. Now that it was November, it wasn't exactly as warm as it usually was, so I opted for a longer purple striped sundress. I quickly brushed my wet hair out and then made my way over to the table and sat down. Dinner was roasted chicken with rosemary potatoes and mixed steamed vegetables. I managed to eat most of it, though it was difficult to do with Clive Owen watching me the entire time. With only a few bites of potatoes left, I was beyond full, hoping they would concede to that before pushing my plate away. Owen shook his head.
"All of it, ma'am," he said.
"You've got to be kidding me," I complained. "I can't fit another bite."
"We have our orders," said Clive chiming in.
"Do your orders include wearing your sunglasses indoors?" I asked. They hadn't removed them, and even though the shade had lightened a bit, I still thought it was weird.
"Yes," they both said.
I rolled my eyes. "If I throw it up, it's your fault then," I snarled and then shoved the remaining bites of food into my mouth.
With my nerves constantly running amuck, it was difficult to devour a large meal. Normally, this much wouldn't be that difficult, but my stomach had shrunk in size significantly, especially after my thirty-day liquid diet.
Shoving my plate away from me, I abruptly stood and stormed my way onto my balcony, slamming the French doors behind me. I heard the door to my bedroom close, and I knew they'd left. There were plenty of men standing around below me, so there was no need for them to think I was going to make some crazy elaborate escape now.
Trying to calm myself down, I sat on the lawn chair and curled into myself. I thought about the conversation I'd had with Darren in the car just a few hours ago. He'd mentioned his mother and how they hadn't gone to war since her death. I'd never asked how she died since I never cared. It was probably better that she never got to live to see her sons become monsters anyway. But now, it seemed she had been killed, which must have started the war Darren had mentioned. A war he'd clearly won. He was young then, still just a boy, and I was sure the bloodshed that came from that kind of retribution was the cement to his character.
The loss of a parent was difficult. My dad, his mom—I didn't know which was worse, knowing your parent and losing them forever or never really getting to know them in the first place. Either way, I was sure his dad wanted revenge for the loss of his wife, regardless of whether they had children. I wondered how it happened. Clearly, it was away from the estate and obviously by one of their enemies. If the war was bad enough to cause other organizations not to cross Darren's, it must have been one hell of a fight.
Fuck. Just what the hell was I up against?
****
Toward the end of the evening, after the shift change, Jaden's bodyguards arrived in my office to report on her day, even though I already knew how it had gone. I wanted to know what they thought, if they noticed the same things I did, and what they would do to avoid escalated situations in the future. Clive and Owen both sat in the black leather chairs across from my desk and sat like the perfect soldiers they were.
"So how was Jaden's first day back?" I asked them, relaxing into my chair.
"Good, sir," Clive answered. "Though she was a little argumentative, she is beginning to adjust."
I nodded in agreement. "I noticed she rearranged her room today," I said.
"Yes, she did do that," Owen replied with a nod.
"Do you know why?"
"She said she didn't want to return to the same room she once escaped from."
I smiled at his ignorance. "You're half correct, Owen."
I could see his eyebrows furrow behind his special glasses. They were designed to register heat signatures as well as gain access to the security cameras throughout the estate so they could not only see every potential threat, but they could also watch Jaden without completely fucking with her privacy.
"Jaden rearranged her room in a way that she thinks will give her a defensive advantage against me," I continued, and this time they both gave away their confusion. "Did you notice where she moved her bed? On the adjacent wall between her bedroom door and bathroom door? Did you notice which side of the bed she decided to sleep on? The one closest to the bathroom door?"
Clive and Owen raised their chins as if they suddenly realized what they had missed.
"It would take me an extra six steps to get around the bed to get to her before she'd make it to the bathroom. Before, nothing impeded me, and though those six steps are not much of a concern to me, nor will they protect Jaden from me any more than if her bed was right in front of the bathroom door, it was still something the two of you neglected to foresee."
Clive and Owen both looked at each other as if they were ready to start apologizing, both clearly becoming uncomfortable.
"It's okay, boys. I'm not mad, but this is an example of the kind of shit she will try to pull, and she'll do it right under your nose if you're not careful. Jaden is no idiot; she is very intelligent, and she will continue to find ways to push the barriers of her boundaries until she runs out of options. You must be there to foresee and discredit those options."
They nodded in unison, their postures stiffening as they considered the challenge ahead of them.
"She will try to push you and annoy you. Do not give her the reaction she wants. It'll only encourage her. One day, this behavior will cease, but until then, you need to be suspicious of almost everything she does because it's almost always in her own self-interest. You don't have to address every little thing she does, but make sure she understands that you're on to her, and eventually, she will stop bothering. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," they both said in unison.
"Good. I'll be gone most of the day tomorrow. So long as Jaden is cooperative, she can leave her room. It's supposed to storm tomorrow, so she is not to wander outside. I've had the staff set up her paint set in the upstairs office. You can suggest it after her workout if she likes. Questions?"
Clive and Owen both regarded each other before Owen spoke. "Do you want us to have her put her room back the way it was?"
I shook my head. "No, no. Let her think she has the right idea, and I'll show her it was wasted effort."
"Yes, sir," they both said.
"Good. Dismissed."
Clive and Owen both left without another word, leaving me to deliberate the future ahead. I expected some resistance from Jaden, some new forms of rebellion, whether they were sneaky or up front, she would find new ways to seek an advantage. And I feared I would have to let her fail in every attempt before she would finally succumb to her fate. She needed to come to the conclusion that every idea she had, no matter how small, was useless to her, that her efforts would be foiled and her ass reddened for even thinking of it in the first place. I had to quash the idea of escape. I knew she wouldn't make the same mistake of fully escaping a second time, not with her family hanging in the balance, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try to line up her dominos and wait for the right moment to watch them fall. I had to make sure there were no dominoes left for her to take—until she finally came to realize she no longer wanted them.
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Control freak guess who?