Filthy Secret

Eight weeks pass since vanishing of lyra casey.

Caldwell heir announces new relationship.

CADE

People can have bad ideas.

I’ve had plenty. When I first started planning on how I would get

Lyra back, the entire thing seemed like a bad idea. I don’t regret it, not in the slightest, but on paper it was a bad idea.

This one is worse.

I’m almost sick as I stare at her. She’s been out in the barn, using rope to burn her wrists and ankles, bruising herself on the fences. “It would be more convincing if I had old injuries,” she grumbles, and my stomach

twists. “Maybe I should like… try to break my ribs or-”

“If you broke your ribs, you’d be in so much pain that sex would be impossible. Unless someone wanted to torture you.”

She pauses, then wrinkles her nose in agreement. “I still say we should send a ransom email.”

I shake my head. “No. I think… I think you escaping and me rescuing you will get more attention.”

That’s the lie we’re going to tell.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

She thought of it when I drove her through the trading hub roughly twenty miles from my house. We were going to the city. She wore a hat and sunglasses and baggy clothes to avoid being recognized. I objected to the idea but relented when she said she wanted to see the hospital and make sure they had a maternity wing. Just in case. She’d even used one of the ovulation strips to show me she was serious.

I embarrassed myself by crying I was so happy.

Then she’d told me the plan. She was going to appear at the trading hub, battered and bruised and terrified, and I’d be the one to find her. Everyone there would see her for the first time after seeing me for the past year and learning my face. They’d gather her up, and I’d volunteer to take her to the hospital. From there, it would all fall into place. She’d contact her parents; we’d go to the city. I’d get my reward, and she’d cut ties with all that asshole, her parents, her so-called friends, and all of the other bullshit, claiming she needed time to heal.

But we had to make her desperate escape realistic.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she says, looking over her semi self-inflicted injuries. The sight of her raw wrists and ankles and the bruises on her inner thighs make my stomach turn, but not as much as what she wants me to do next.

“Are you going to do it?”

I swallow, looking down at my hands. “I don’t know if I can.”

She fixes me with a hard glare. “Cade, you kidnapped me. If I’d broken the syringe, how would you have gotten me out of there?”

I grimace. “I probably would have made you pass out.”

“What’s the quickest and relatively safest way to do that?”

“With a punch.”

She nods. “Right. I’m not even asking you to do that. Just… back hand me or something. Maybe two or three times to-”

“Fuck that. No, absolutely not.” I clench and unclench my fists. “One time. That’s it.”

She quirks a brow. “What if I like being slapped?”

“Lyra.”

“What? I like the cuffs. When you tied me up against that rack near the garden the other day, I liked that.”

My dick twitches as the image of her bound to the rack pops into my head. Her arms splayed out; her legs wrapped around me as I pumped into her. It had gotten me so hot I came three times before I was finished.

My sweet girl liked me rough.

“I’m not going to start slapping you.”

“Well, you’d better do it at least once,” she warns. “The kids will be set for life, Cade. Whoever handles your investments will have them set.

They’ll never have to worry about anything again.”

I growl under my breath. “It’s always about fucking money.”

“Yes, a little bit. Because you need it to live. Even here, we need it to live. We’re getting the damn chickens and another goat, too.” Her eyes look to the barn then back at me. “And a dog. And some cats.”

“The cats will kill the chickens.”

“No, they won’t. They’ll kill mice. Now fucking do it.”

Her arms are tense, fists clenched, and my own hands are shaking. “Lyra,” I say, my chest tightening. “I love you.”

A small smile crosses her lips. “I love you, too. Now hit me so we can finally tell the whole world about it.”

It hadn’t occurred to me how much that mattered. How being seen with her, even it if was only by the people at the trading center and a few others around our cabin, mattered.

And it matters that whatever kids we have, they are safe to make their own choices. They have enough to live and never have to worry about us or anyone else stealing their life from them.

Her parents owe her.

They owe me.

They owe us.

Bracing, I whip my hand across her face, instantly hating myself when she yelps and stumbles to the side. I rush over, grimacing as I see the red mark on her cheek. It’s dark. In a few hours it’ll turn into a bruise.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I say before I can stop myself. “I’m sorry. Jesus

Christ, I’m-”

“No, it’s good.” She winces when I touch her cheek. “You did good.” Her lips meet mine, and I want to take her inside and make her an ice pack, but she pulls back and draws my focus.

“Now, where can you drop me off so it’s not too far from the hub?”

***

EPILOGUE

Daughter of casey analytics owner declines offer of tell all book. calls off engagement to caldwell heir and requests privacy after escaping captivity.

LYRA

6 MONTHS LATER

“T his is as much as you’re gonna get, Sweetheart. There’s just not

enough snow.”

I pout, but quickly rally when I realize that the fading snowfall means we can get to the city. And getting to the city means real ice cream instead of the snow cones Cade has been plying me with.

He stands at the counter, mixing the fresh snow in with the milk, sugar, and vanilla he’d whisked together. I wrap my arms around his waist, squeezing myself as close as I can. My tender breasts and tiny swell between my hips make it difficult. I tuck myself under his arm to steal from the bowl. He playfully smacks away my spoon.

“Greedy.”

“It’s not my fault your kid is constantly hungry.”

“You’re barely thirteen weeks along,” he laughs. “I think that’s you being hungry instead of the kid.”

I make a face at him, and he mimics me before leaning in to kiss my nose and I laugh. It feels like we’ve been together for years. Everything is smooth and easy, even our fights.

It took months to resolve everything back in the city, and my parents were a little reluctant to actually pay out the reward for my safe return. It took me making a statement to the media to get them to do it, and I told Cade privately that I thought they would have preferred it if I stayed missing rather than have my return eat into their profits. I’m sure it didn’t help matters that he was the one to “rescue” me, but they didn’t question it. I’m fairly certain no one wanted me making a fuss, especially since Casey Analytics biggest investment partner had moved on to another affair before his engagement with the founder’s daughter had time to cool.

None of that matters though. I’m happy. Happier than I thought I could be. The day I left the city and came home, Cade and I drove to the city and were married in front of two confused witnesses and the local judge. Then he carried me bridal style over the threshold of his cabin and stripped me out of my gown for the second time. We started trying for a baby that night.

Officially. He’d been trying since he took me, technically.

Tomato, toma-toe, he’d say.

It took a few months for it to happen, months where Cade would fuck me just as often as he had the first time he brought me home. It seemed like overkill, but I wasn’t going to complain. I was constantly satiated, perpetually brought to bliss even when I begged him to stop. He’d whisper filthy things in my ear, telling me I could take whatever he gave me. I always had. I always would.

He’s a bit more cautious now, but not much. Nika has checked me over and assures us there’s no reason to suspect the pregnancy will be anything but healthy. Cade was worried about me being outside in the cold the first month, but she assured him it was good for me. She survived birthing in Siberia and the weather here is tropical compared to what she’d been through. She gave us the name of a doctor she worked with at the hospital, but we decided to do as much as possible at home. We’re safe and happy in our bubble, and we’re going to keep it that way.

Cade scoops the snow ice cream into bowls and sets a few mint leaves on top. Mint leaves we grow in-house now since it’s so cold outside. I sprinkle a delicacy on mine-chocolate shavings. I got them the last time we went into town and I’ve been hoarding them ever since. We sit on the couch together, relishing in the quiet that surrounds us. No TV, no radio, no chaos. Just our clinking spoons and quiet breaths, and his laugh when I press a chocolate shaving to his nose then lick it off. He sets his bowl aside and tugs me onto his lap, sliding his hands from my ass to the small swell of my belly.

“Boy or girl?” he asks, and I shrug, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Either way, it’s yours. Just like me.”

His cheeks pink, and he pulls me close, burying his face in my tender breasts. He kisses his way up my throat, lingering on a spot behind my ear that bears his name. It mimics the tattoo he has of mine.

His name on my skin.

Marking me.

Cade’s hand curls into my hair and he pulls me close, his relieved sigh sending a shiver up my spine and making heat blossom between my legs as he whispers my new favorite word. A single syllable vow we’ve made to each other.

“Mine.”