Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
From here on out, I will decide her fate and how her story goes. It’s for the best. Although, she’ll never see it that way. To her, I’ll be the enemy, but I’m okay with that. Sometimes the villain is the only one who wins because no one else is ruthless enough to fight him.
A knock sounds on my door, and I put the picture back. “Come in,” I call out.
Colton, Jenks, Finn, and Alex enter. “What’s up, boss?” Finn asks.
“I’m about to leave,” I tell them. “I’ll be gone the rest of the night.”
One thing about Blackout is I get to run this place how I want. Which means I answer to no one. As a Lord, you serve them for the rest of your life once you get your brand. You will be called to do assignments until one of them eventually kills you. But not me. Blackout guarantees that I do whatever the fuck I want.
That’s why I decided to hire an army of my own. Colton, Jenks, Alex, and Finn aren’t Lords. But they’re as close as they’ll ever get to being one. I even gave them their own brand. They work for me until I release them. And that will be the day I die.
“What do you need us to do?” Colton asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Keep the place from burning down,” I say seriously, but they laugh like I’m joking.
The sound of my cell ringing has them all turning and exiting my office to give me some privacy. I look down to see Ryat light up my screen. He’s a senior this year at Barrington and one of my best friends. He was a freshman during my senior year there. “Hey?” I answer.
“I’m on my way,” he announces in greeting.
“Okay. I’ll be ready.”
Exiting my office, I lock it up and go down to the first floor. Making my way down the back hallway, I enter the basement, grabbing a bag from a shelf and filling it with the things we’ll need.
The guy who’s naked and chained to the wall mumbles nonsense through his gag but I ignore him. I’ll take care of him later. Not like he’s in a hurry to die.
Zipping up the bag, I throw it over my shoulder and lock up the basement as well. As I run up the stairs, the floor vibrates from the music coming deeper within the club.
Shoving the back door open, I walk out into the pouring rain to see a black SUV parked nearby. I open the passenger door and hop in, tossing the bag into the back seat.
Ryat looks over at me, his green eyes then sliding to the bag. “Ready?”
I nod, shutting the door. “Yep.” I’ve waited for this day for too long. The Lords didn’t make me the Lord of the underworld for nothing. They knew I’d do their bidding as long as I got my chance at revenge. They’re handing it to me on a silver platter and I’m going to make him choke on it while my wife is on her knees swallowing my dick.
LAIKYN
Your wedding day is supposed to be one of the most exciting days of your life. Just like my mother, I’m about to marry a man I didn’t choose. Who I don’t love. I actually despise him, and everything that he represents-money, greed, and power are just a few of them.
My mother hates my father, but there was nothing either one of them could do. Their fate was decided, their destiny sealed. Same as mine. Same as my children’s. And my grandchildren’s. We are bred for the sole purpose of power. Control in numbers.
Fuck that!
Women in my world-the secret society of the Lords-should not reproduce. I don’t want children. The cycle will end with me. It has to. The Lords will only find a way to use its members. They marry us off to ensure we add to their army. The next generation of Lords and Ladies will help them take over the world.
I stand in the middle of the room, overlooking the white dress in the mirrored wall, running my hand down the mulberry silk-some of the finest silk available in the world. I take in a deep breath. It cost a whopping two million. Two million dollars for a fucking dress? My soon-to-be husband had it custom-made by a designer in France. I know this because my mother reminds me every chance she gets.
Why would I get to pick out something so important in my life? That’s insane, right? To think I should have any say in what I wear on the day I give my life to another.
It’s as if she thinks his wealth will impress me. It’s blood money. I know this because it’s the same fortune I grew up with. I never did want the finer things in life. I know a poor person would roll their eyes at that statement, but it’s true. Give me a beer, a cheap hoodie, and a hat to hide my three-day old mop of bleach-blond hair, and I’m happy.
But no. That’s unacceptable. The one percent aren’t allowed to look anything less than perfect. Not in public anyway. I’m surprised they even let us speak. We as women might as well walk around with duct tape over our mouths dressed in nothing but chains.
A Lord needs a Lady but not because of the reasons you may think. It’s a way to hide who he really is. He’ll have fucks all over the world, but we’re expected to cook, clean, and spread our legs for him when he’s home. Worship him like he’s God himself and birth his children.
I’ve never been religious, and I’m not going to fall to my knees and start worshipping a man now.
My brother comes up behind me, his eyes scanning over my dress in the mirror. “At least he has good taste.”
I roll my eyes. “As if that matters.”
“Just pop out some kids and get fat.” He shrugs. “Then he’ll screw anyone but you. Oh! Hire a hot, much younger nanny.” He nods to himself. “Let me try her out first, though. Make sure she’s good enough.”
His words just prove that all Lords are the same. He’s been a Lord for years but has yet to marry. He has the privilege of fucking his way around the world while I’m forced to sign my life away.
A cell rings, and he pulls it out of his tuxedo jacket to answer. “Hello?”
Sighing, I pick up the dress and walk over to the stained glass window. You can’t see shit out of it. This place is ancient. The Cathedral is to a Lord as a church is to a religion-their sanctum. It holds a hundred years of secrets like a sarcophagus encloses a mummy.
It was handed down to them years ago-a place to perform their sick and twisted rituals. There’s nothing fancy or special about it, if you ask me. I could be walking down the aisle in blue jeans and a T-shirt or lingerie. Doesn’t matter.
Not all Lords and Ladies are required to wed here. But it’s where my future husband picked. Our parents wanted it to be as traditional as possible. It’s a bullshit reason. They just want to make a spectacle of handing me over to him. We might as well be standing in a courtroom with a judge sentencing me to life in prison without the chance of parole for a crime I didn’t commit.
I place my hand on the cold glass, listening to the rain fall. It’s been storming for the past two days. It’s like the world knows I’ve been destined for a lifetime of servitude to a man I’d rather kill than kneel and suck his dick.
I blame my mother. She raised me to be strong-willed and determined. But now, I’m just supposed to turn it off and believe that I’m to devote my life to a man that will neglect me during the day but demand I spread my legs at night.
I won’t accept that. I deserve more. I want more.
My brother ends his call, getting my attention, and looks at me. “We have a problem,” he states.
My whole life is a fucking problem. “What?”
“Luke is missing.”
I snort. “Don’t toy with me like that.” That’s not a problem; that’s a prayer answered.
“I’m serious.” He swallows, looking around the large room nervously as if Luke’s going to appear out of thin air. “He’s not here. He never arrived. He’s also not at his house. He’s missing. No one has seen him.”
“I’m not sure why that’s a problem.” I don’t want to marry the sick bastard. Luke Cabot is the highest-ranking Lord you can come by, which just makes this even worse. Lords are like anything else in this world. You have some at the bottom, and others at the top. There are different tiers. But honestly, it doesn’t matter; they’re all sick fucking bastards who will kill anyone to get to where they are. Even the bottom feeders will destroy anything to get a chance at serving.
He steps over to me. “Laikyn …”
The door opens and my father enters with my mother. I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m guessing this good fortune has nothing to do with you two?”
My mother’s injected lips seem to thin a tad at my comment. She’s told me a million times that this is just the life we live. That it’s a “tradition” and I just have to accept it. That as far as Lord and Lady goes, we’re royalty. Bull-fucking-shit. I’d rather be someone’s bitch than a Lord’s Lady.
My father, however, stares at the floor while running a hand through his dark hair. “Daddy?” I ask, stepping over to him, holding my dress in my hands so I don’t step on the hem. “What’s going on?”
His throat works, swallowing before his eyes find mine. There’s a look of regret in them, and hope fills my chest. Maybe he’s realized that I don’t want this life.
He clears his throat. “I just received a call …”
“Please tell me you did this-called off my wedding?” I rush out, my words hopeful.
“I’m sorry, Laikyn, but the wedding is still on.” He sighs.
And what little hope I had is now smothered. “But Miller said Luke’s missing.” I point at my brother. Had my father received the same phone call that my brother did? Or was it someone else?