Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (127 page)

~Chapter One-Hundred-Thirteen~

The people pour into Whittenhower Estates’ majestic ballroom. I found the setting of our meeting to be very apropos: a high domed ceiling, engraved with cherubs and clouds, and dripping with genuine gold leaf. Walls covered in pale yellow fabric embossed with fleur-de-lis. The marble flooring is veined with gold. It’s a
beautiful room. It’s perfect for our new beginning.

Wil and our boys are diligently setting up dining chairs. It’s hard to believe, but there wasn’t one single folding chair in all of Misery Castle. I could have used the dining room for our meeting. But it was too closed in, and people on the ends of the table would have been cut off from the rest of the group. Plus, I needed to create seating areas by family. I couldn’t do that at an oblong table.

Our guests arrive, both new and old. They restlessly stare at one another out of sheer curiosity. The youngest guests are staring at my son like they’ve seen a ghost- especially the one that shares his blood. I may not like Ava’s parents at the moment, but I do respect the child. I will never resent a child for the life they were born into.

“Zane,” I call out to my son. He swishes his head to move his curly mop of hair out of his eyes. “Come here.” He places the chair he was moving and gracefully glides over to me on mile-long legs. The kid’s lucky he didn’t get my genetics in the height department.

I call over Zane’s equally tall and lanky sister. Zane and Ava could be twins, born four months apart and to different mothers. White-haired, gray-eyed, stoic, intelligent, and ever-watchful, the siblings eye one another.

“You’re mad,” Zane bluntly says to his sister. “I can feel it.”

I lean into Zane before he meters my roiling emotions. “Happy belated fifteenth birthday, Zane. I hope I got you exactly what you wanted,” I softly say. “I tried very hard, and I never want to fail you.”

“This is perfect. Thank you.” Zane’s voice is filled with more emotion than I’ve ever heard. He genuinely smiles at me, lighting up his entire face. I take a chance and lean in to kiss his cheek, and he actually bends down for me to reach him better. I quickly kiss him, not wanting to press my luck. 

“I’ll allow you to do the introductions,” I say to Zane. “I must start seating our guests now.”

“Thank you, Momma,” Zane whispers as I walk away.

Out of respect, I seat my mother first. Her grandfather was our founding elder, perverted deviant that he was. My mother is without a named heir and my sister is without an heir. I place The Meyers and The Simpson side-by-side. I smile at them both. Aunt Amelia goes next to Fate. I place an excited Kris behind Fate and a scowling and confused Cortez behind my mother. Before I walk two feet away, the five of them are happily chatting, as I’d hoped.

“C’mon, old man,” I say to Stanton. I grab his hand and tow him behind me. I plunk his ass in a chair, and then place a kiss to his forehead. My family is smarter than the average bear. Without prompting, Bianca sits to the right of her father, Caleb stands behind Stanton, and Julio stands behind Bianca- completing the Green family.

“I promise I won’t make you stand ever again,” I say to a glowering Julio. “I know it’s embarrassing and disrespectful, but we have a lot of new faces tonight and I don’t want to confuse them.”

“I’ll live,” Julio grunts out.

I arrange the Fontaine family next: Olivia with Wil to her right. I also place a chair to her left. Behind Olivia stands Devlin. I smile at Sebastian because he looks like he’s going to piss his pants- he’s frightened of me. I put him behind the empty chair because Wil doesn’t need an enforcer. He was born as one. I can’t leave them until I thoroughly show my husband how much I love him, and he gets in his obligatory five minutes of rubbing my belly in awe. Olivia surprises me by sniffling into a hanky.

As I said, my family is smarter than the average bear, and in this case, it’s the youngest generation. Torian pushes his
father, The Spencer, into a seat and sits to the right of him. Gretchen stands between their chairs and tries to hold a conversation with her son and husband. Restraint has had a large impact on Greta. Now that she has an outlet for her outbursts, she’s not knocking Boyd around as much. She’s also so sick with guilt over the blowjob with Dexter, that she’s actually nice to Boyd on occasion. I think she was shocked when Boyd didn’t demand an immediate divorce. As I said, Gwen’s kids are a loyal bunch. Once we commit, it’s for life.

Zane and Ava followed suit with the Holden family. Zane sits to the right of an empty chair, and Ava sits to the left. Aaron stands behind Ava, braiding her hair, and Roarke stands behind Zane. Roarke doesn’t braid my son’s gorgeous locks. He stares down at my son’s head like he’s waiting for it to sprout horns.

I find the large Whittenhower family in a state of chaotic confusion. I added an offshoot for the overflow. We’d ruined so many Whittenhower lives that I decided to draw them into the game. I’m not breaking the rules, I’m reinventing them.

Daniel Whittenhower
I, his daughter, Adelaide, and Diane Zeitler are placed together. They are about as tight as a family can get, and they will protect each other to the death. I leave the three of them to their badgering. Poor Ade, her father and girlfriend are rapidly firing questions at her. They would make the paparazzi proud.

Grant is in The Whittenhower seat with Roman Alexander at his back. It’s Niel who isn’t where he belongs. My fingers bracelet the brawny boy’s wrist and I tug him from his seat. He frowns down at me in confusion.
The seat to the right of Grant remains ass-free now that Niel vacated it. I point at the seat to the left, and Whitney primly takes her seat.

Dragging a reluctant two-hundred pound boy with me, I locate a wickedly pissed Regina. She stopped demanding what the hell was going on about two hours ago. I had to tell her to shut her fucking mouth before she finally stopped, though. Now she’s got a hate-on for me
. But it’s not just because of my foul language. I think she keeps envisioning the scene from Grant’s bedroom. Fuck her, I housed and fed and protected her and Marcus for the past twenty-four hours. She’ll just have to get over it.

Regina sits with her children at her sides. “That is why you’re sitting here, dumbass,” I tease Niel, and the red head good-naturedly smiles up at me.

“I don’t care where I sit. I was just scared you were tossing my ass out of my own house. I would have fought you on that,” Niel says, and I can tell he means it.

“How… how…
I don’t understand,” Ella stutters out. But it’s not because she’s scared of me. Months ago, we bonded as we placed the refugees in rooms. As soon as I told her I was Fate’s younger sister, and yes, we look alike when my hair isn’t dyed, she took an instant shine to me. So her stuttering confuses me.

“What it is?”
I softly ask.

“Who
’s he?” Ella quickly blurts out. She blushes a pretty pink as she points at Zane.

“Christ,” I hiss. “You explain that one, Mom,” I say to Regina as I walk away.

“And last but not least,” I sing to Marcus. He looks better tonight- less insane. But he keeps glaring at Cortez.

“
You better explain,” Marcus warns. My impending death is in his voice.

“Oh,” I arrogantly huff. “I will.” 

I shuffle his tiny family around: Marcus in the middle with Spyder to his right and Dexter to his left. Spyder is calm because all of her family is in the room. Dexter is calm because nothing ever gets to the guy. His eyes are tracking everyone in the room. I knew he’d make a good predator. He’s already sizing up his potential prey. If he’d stop boffing the Kat-in-heat, I’d respect him again. But Dexter is a man, and sex is sex, especially if your wife approves.

“Stop,” I shout.

Right on cue, the trio of very sexually satisfied gay men storm into the ballroom. One is calculating. One is worried. And one is murderous.

“Roman,” my voice wavers from the stress. “He’s coming for your man.”

I’d love to intervene, but I can’t. I love Grant, and Whitt is my brother, but my unborn baby comes first. I’m not getting in the middle of their family feud.

“You cowardly, lying sonofabitch!” Whitt screams at his father, trying to get around a blocking Roman. “You cannot tell everyone about Niel and-”

“NO!” Wil, Grant, and I shout at once. I fall to my chair, thankful that our loud voices and the fact that sound came out of Grant’s mouth overpowered the girl’s name. Too bad those closest heard. Those closest would be the entire Whittenhower family, their overflow, and Regina. Most of them look ill.

Niel bolts from his chair
, and makes it to the portico doors before he starts convulsively vomiting. The fire fizzles out of Whitt from seeing Niel reduced to illness because of stress. As if by magic, a maid appears from the passageway, ready to clean up the mess.

“Everyone, sit down,” I exhaustedly say. “Whitt, go comfort the boy.”

Dalton and Ezra easily figure out where their asses should be planted. Dalton is getting lectured by every single member of his family. Even Spyder is shouting French obscenities across the ballroom. No one is happy that Dalton is consorting with the enemy- or screwing the enemy, as the case may be.

Ez is looking between his kids as if he’
s waiting for a bomb blast. Eyes flicking left, right, left, right, left, right, like a pendulum swinging. Zane and Ava stare at the sides of their father’s face, discombobulating him even more. Is it sick of me that I’m enjoying his discomfort?

It’s probably sicker of me that I love the fac
t the Cortez’s fingernails are embedded in the back of my mother’s chair as he glares at Dalton and Whitt.

As soon as Niel and Whitt take their seats, I walk to the center of the ballroom. The families arc in a circle
around me. I spread my arms far and wide as I say, “look around you- these are the people who have been fucking with you. These are the people who have plotted and schemed and ruined your lives. We have one more rule, and no, you don’t get to vote on it!”

I wait for the clamor to die down, and it takes a surprisingly long time. “You can only play with those within this room- that is it. No new people will be involved. If your play affects anyone that isn’t in this room, then it’s not legal. If you wish to bring someone into the fold, we vote. If you mess up, you answer to me.”

“The game begins anew!” I shout.

~The Hunter~
Cortez Abernathy
Mistress & Master of Restraint, #10
coming Fall 2013

~
Silenced~
Grant Whittenhower
Mistress & Master of Restraint, #11
coming Winter 2013/2014

~
Integrated~
Ezra Holden Zeitler
Mistress & Master of Restraint, #12
coming 2014

~Would you like more
information about Erica Chilson’s stories~
Contact Erica Chilson:
[email protected]

Erotic romance fans, would you
like to read something less dark and twisted? Try the Playroom series. The Erotic Romance series begins with Good Girl. Coming summer 2013- Widow.

About the Author

Erica Chilson spends most of her time inside her own imagination, whether awake or asleep. Her love of reading and writing for her book review blog, Wicked Reads, inspired her to begin writing again. Not one that enjoys the norm, her favorite things to read, write, and dream about are on the edge, claws and fangs, and wickedly entertaining things…
www.ericachilson.wordpress.com

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