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His Fathers's Ring, His Son's Touch  Novel Cover

His Fathers's Ring, His Son's Touch

Lucas Vane was my ruin. My first love, my greatest regret, and the man who shattered my life before disappearing into the shadows. I thought I had finally escaped his reach, until a desperate debt forced me into a cold, clinical contract with the one man I should have feared more. Victor Vane. The powerful, terrifying patriarch who doesn't know the girl he just bought was once his son's greatest obsession. Now, I am trapped between two worlds. I am the wife of the father, bound by a signature and a ring, yet I am pursued by the son who is determined to reclaim what he lost. As the lines between hatred and desire blur, I find myself craving the touch of the man who owns me, and the man who broke me. Secrets can only stay buried for so long. What happens when the King finds out his Queen belongs to the Prince?
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Chapter 5

Victor's Pov

I watched my son's eyes. They didn't land on me first. They went straight to the girl shivering in my shadow. The shock that registered on his face was almost comical, a pale, wide-eyed disbelief that told me I needed to know something.

Beside him, his wife, Kendra, stood beside him.

I moved with a deliberate slowness, stepping behind Amara. I let my hand hover over her shoulder before bringing it down, my fingers curling over the curve of her collarbone. I felt her flinch, a sharp tremor running through her small frame, but I didn't let go. I pulled her back against my chest, my palm pressing firmly against her side.

"Lucas," I said, my voice a calm, low vibration. "I didn't realize you and Kendra were stopping by this evening."

Lucas's gaze snapped to my hand on her shoulder. I noticed his jaw tightened so hard I could see the muscle leaping in his cheek. "Dad? What is... who is she?"

I smiled. "This is Amara. And you should be the first to congratulate us." I leaned down slightly, my breath stirring the damp strands of her blonde hair. "She has just agreed to become my wife."

The silence that followed was absolute. Amara stiffened, her breath hitching as she tried to pull away from my grip. I tightened my hold just enough to remind her she needs my protection.

"It's... it's not-" she started, her voice a desperate whisper.

"Amara, this is my son, Lucas." I interrupted, my voice cutting through hers. "And his wife, Kendra. Now, I believe dinner is being served. We should eat as a family."

I sat at the head of the table. Amara sat to my right, looking small and fragile in the oversized velvet chair. Across from her, Lucas sat like a man made of stone, his eyes never leaving her face.

Didn't he like my idea of remarrying?

"You're not eating," I turned to Amara, nudging a plate of vegetables toward her. "You should eat. "

She looked at the food as if it were poison. "I'm not hungry."

"Well," I looked at everyone, sipping my wine. "We've decided not to waste any time. The wedding will be in two days. A private ceremony here at the estate."

Lucas's cutleries fell to the table. "Two days? You've got to be kidding me! You can't just... you don't even know her, Dad! This is insane."

"I know her well enough to know she belongs here," I replied, my voice dropping into a dangerous register. "And I don't recall asking for your permission, Lucas."

"Have you forgotten mom? It's just two years and you want to move on?" His voice was loud enough to stop everyone from eating.

Lucas stood up, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. "This is a mistake. A massive one." He looked at Amara, his expression held something I couldn't see.

He kept his eyes on Amara for three more seconds-three seconds where the air in the room felt like it might combust-before he turned and stormed out of the room. Kendra followed him, her heels clicking rapidly as they vanished into the hallway.

That look he had looked at her was disturbing.

I turned to Amara. She was standing now, her chest heaving, her hands gripping the back of her chair.

"I am not marrying you," she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "I've made my decisions."

I stood up, moving around the table until I was standing directly in front of her. I was a head taller than her, my shadow swallowing her whole.

"Let's look at the facts, Amara," I said, my voice calm and clinical. "In forty-eight hours, you can be Mrs. Amara Hale. You will have the best legal team in the country making sure that glass award 'never existed.' You will have a security detail that will make you untouchable. You will never have to worry about a paycheck, a boss, or a dark alleyway again."

I stepped closer, until our chests were almost touching.

"Or," I continued, "you can walk out that door right now. I'll call the precinct and tell them exactly where to find the girl who fled the office tonight. I'll tell them about the blood on your coat. I'll let those men in black have their way with you. Which will it be?"

She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with tears she refused to let fall. "Why do you want me? Why are you doing this to me? Why go through all this for a 'three-month contract'?"

"Because you are the only thing I want at this moment," I lied, though the truth was far more complex. "And because I like having beautiful things. "

I reached out, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Three months, Amara. One season as my wife. In exchange, I give you your life back. Isn't that worth a signature and a ring?"

She closed her eyes, a single tear finally escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. She looked defeated, her shoulders sagging as she realized the cage she was in was gilded, but it was still a cage.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. "Fine," she whispered.

I smiled, pulling her into my arms. She felt cold, but she didn't fight me this time. "Good girl. Now, let's get you some rest. You have a wedding to prepare for."

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