Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 19

The Santa

I grip Carolina’s hand tighter as we slide into the back of Marco’s SUV, the night air crisp and biting against my skin. The city is a blur of Christmas lights and shadow, but my mind is darker than these streets, running through the events of the evening with lethal precision.

“Everything is handled, boss,” Marco mutters from the driver’s seat, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. His voice is low, laced with the promise of violence already carried out.

“Good,” I respond curtly, my thumb stroking over Carolina’s knuckles. She doesn’t need to know the details—just that she’s safe. That no one touches what’s mine and lives without consequence.

“So I guess I should congratulate you two,” he chuckles. “I hear you’re now engaged.”

I wait for Carolina to deny it, but to my surprise, she doesn’t. “Thank you,” she says, straightening her spine.

The rest of the car ride is silent except for the steady hum of the engine and Carolina’s soft breathing. Her head rests on my shoulder, and I can feel the trust she places in me weighing heavier than any crown. She’s mine to protect, to cherish, to breed. And her dedication tonight has only solidified my possessive need for her.

Once home, I dismiss Marco with a nod, knowing he understands the silence that hangs between us. He knows the unspoken directive—no loose ends.

I follow Carolina into our bathroom, watching her as she starts to remove her makeup and brush her teeth. Then I help her get the dress off, and because she asks nicely, I don’t tear it from her body.

“So tired,” she yawns, staring longingly at the shower. “But I feel like I need to clean up first.”

“Absolutely not,” I scoff. “We wear each other’s juices with pride, Hellcat. Don’t give up on me now.”

The grin she gives me is absolutely lethal, and I fucking love it. “Fine,” she relents.

Before she can leave the bathroom, I open the small cupboard above the sink and pull a white, rectangular package out. “I think it’s time you take one of these,” I say as I hand her the pregnancy test.

She bites her lip as she accepts it. “Wow,” she breathes. “Yeah, I guess I should. We only have nine days left, right?”

“We have all the fucking time in the world,” I lie on a growl.

This might have all started because I wanted an heir, and I still want one. Carolina, however, isn’t just a hired womb, she’s now my fiancée. It might not have happened in the traditional way, but who fucking cares? I don’t, and so far it doesn’t seem like she does either.

“Go on,” I urge. “Pee on the damn stick.”

“With you watching—” She cuts herself off, already knowing there’s no point in arguing.

I don’t turn around or look away; I watch her as she sits down on the toilet, and then she slides the stick between her thighs, covering it in her urine.

Hmm, I’ve never been into piss play, but right now, I’d consider letting her pee on me. There’s something so insanely intimate about watching her like this, and greedy as I am, I want everything life has to offer with her.

Once she’s done, she wipes herself and gets some extra toilet paper to lie the test on. Then she washes her hands while I set the timer on my phone for two minutes. We don’t talk while we wait, we’re both focused on the single line. I barely blink, too scared to miss the appearance of a second line.

But it never comes. Not when my timer goes off, or within the extra five minutes we wait. I take the test and throw it into the trash can. “We’ll do another one tomorrow. I think I read that the morning is the best time.”

There’s no hiding the disappointment we both feel, but I feel guilty as she averts her gaze and just nods. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.” Her shoulders slump as she leaves the bathroom and crawls into bed. “It might be a bit too early for a test to show.” I’m not sure if she says it to herself or me.

Although I have things to do, I follow her, lying down next to her. I wrap my arm around her and pull her closer—her back against my front—and nestle my face against her neck. “Are you disappointed?” I ask.

“A little,” she admits. “But mostly, I’m afraid you’re disappointed in me. That you’re not getting your money’s worth.”

“Fuck the money,” I growl menacingly. “All I want is you, Hellcat. You and me, that’s all that matters.”

“Really?” she asks, hope bleeding into her voice.

I move her so she’s lying on her back, hovering over her so she can see just how serious I am. “Yes, really. I fucking love you, Carolina—”

“You love me?” she gasps, her mouth forming an O.

Nodding, I answer, “I do. That’s why I keep telling you that you’re mine. It’s why I put a ring on your finger.”

“You love me,” she repeats, only this time, it doesn’t sound like a question.

Chuckling, I lie back down, pulling her against me again. “Forevermore,” I vow.

She doesn’t say it back, which is fine. She will eventually. There’s no escaping me, and if she tries… well, I’ll just have to tie her up until she gives up.

Carolina Sterling is mine.

Her body feels amazing against mine, and as her breath grows deeper and deeper, I almost forget that I need to stay awake. But as soon as I remember why I can’t give in yet, my blood boils, running hot with the memory of that bastard’s hands on her.

I wait until her breathing steadies, confirming her descent into dreams where I hope she’s safe from the darkness that clings to my soul. Then I slip from the bed, my movements ghost-like as I make my way to my torture room.

He’s there, tied to a chair, the remnants of fear and pain etched into his face. Good. He should be afraid.

“P-please,” he starts, the tremble in his voice music to my ears.

“Shut up,” I snarl, my hands itching to deliver the retribution burning through my veins. I circle him like a predator, each step measured, each breath filled with purpose.

“B-but—”

“You touched what is mine,” I say, leaning close, my lips brushing his ear with deceptive softness. “For that, you’ll pay.”

He flinches away, straining against the bindings at his wrists and ankles. It’s a pitiful sight, this creature who dared to encroach on my territory. Who dared to lay hands upon my queen.

“Why did you touch her?” I demand, my voice rumbling with contained fury.

“I-I—” he stammers.

Running out of patience, I silence him with a fist to his face. The sound of my knuckles connecting with his nose echoes in the dark silence.

“Answer me,” I say, every syllable a threat of more violence to come.

“I d-didn’t know!” he cries out, tears welling in his eyes. “I swear, I didn’t know she was yours! I don’t even know who you are.”

The last part I believe, that he didn’t know who I am is more likely than not having noticed Carolina arrived with me. “And do you know now?”

He shakes his head, shouting when I punch him again, and again, and a-fucking-gain.

“Oh, God… p-please,” he whines, but his pleas only fan the flames of my wrath.

Pausing, I answer him. “Not God. Knight,” I growl.

Then I continue to punch him; his nose and jaw break under my furious punches, but I don’t stop—I can’t stop. The basement echoes with the sickening crunch of retribution and the man’s guttural cries as I mete out justice for the insult to what is mine.

For the next several hours, I extract my vengeance, every crack of bone, every whimper of agony a balm to my raging beast. He’s gasping for breath, his eyes begging for mercy that will never come his way. His cries echo in the silence, a fitting soundtrack to the bloody tableau we’ve become.

When I’m no longer satisfied using my fists, I pause long enough to get clippers. I don’t pay any attention as I shove every finger on the offending hand through the holes of the custom-built contraption, or when I use all my strength to sever the digits from his hand.

He screams and thrashes. His eyes rolling back into his head before he passes out. For fuck’s sake.

“Marco!” I bark, and when he joins me, he’s quick to hold the smelling salt under the guy’s nose.

It takes longer than I’d like for the guy to come around, which tells me he’s almost at the end of his limit. What a fucking waste of space.

“Hey!” I bark, snapping my fingers in his face.

Due to his broken jaw, he can’t talk, which is probably for the best. I doubt his words would be more meaningful than the pitiful noises he makes.

“This is the end of the road for you,” I tell him, my tone completely devoid of emotion. “If there’s a next life, I hope you’ll remember how this one ended. Never touch something or someone that isn’t yours.”

I reach for the gun Marco’s holding, and after activating the silencer and removing the safety, I lift it, pointing it straight at his head.

“See you in the next life, motherfucker.” With those words, I pull the trigger.

His body jerks, but there’s no doubt he’s dead.

“Damn,” Marco whistles as he looks down at the mess I’ve made. “Guess I need to be careful about offering a hand to the future Mrs. Knight.”

I grin at him. “As long as you offer first, we’re good, my friend.”

I instruct Marco to dispose of the broken body, and as always, he’s a step ahead of me. “Cleanup will be here within the hour. I’ll make sure they’re thorough.”

With a sharp nod, I pull my phone out to see if there’s any news from Jack. There isn’t. Although I know I should keep my head in the game and check in, I bid Marco goodnight and return to the sanctuary I share with Carolina, and after a shower, I crawl into bed, finding she hasn’t moved since I left her.