DENY: A Dark Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  DENY: A Dark Romance copyright 2017 by Sophia Gray. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

  ***

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  DENY: A Dark Romance

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  BONUS NOVEL – HEAT: A Dark Romance by Sophia Gray

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  DENY: A Dark Romance

  By Sophia Gray

  She won’t last long if she denies me my desires.

  I’m not the kind of man who takes “no” for an answer.

  After the hellish torments I’ve suffered, I learned the hard way that the world doesn’t give you things just because you asked.

  You must take them.

  I’ve built a club and a career that way.

  By seizing what I want, bit by bit, until I have everything I could dream of.

  Everything but her.

  The one who got away.

  I’ve tried to bury the memory of her in countless club girls and the twisted thrill of violence.

  But life has a sick sense of humor, and Angel refuses to be forgotten.

  Imagine my surprise when I interrupt a mugging, only to realize that the damsel in distress is my former flame.

  Years haven’t touched her beauty, nor my desire to own it.

  I want to hold her as badly as I did the day I first laid eyes on that gorgeous frame.

  I want to claim her.

  To f*ck her senseless.

  And yet, as surreal as all this is, she’s only the first of two surprising discoveries.

  It turns out…

  She has a son.

  Correction – I have a son.

  The realization leaves me stunned and furious.

  She will pay for keeping this from me.

  For keeping herself from me.

  The world can go to hell.

  I have scores to settle.

  Chapter 1

  Angel

  The hot, still air felt like a blanket around me as I walked around the Centerville Public Library, closing the windows. It had been a quiet July day — not many patrons, only the regulars. I loved my job working at the local library, but sometimes it left me alone in my head for too long. My favorite days were when students came in and asked for help with research projects. Then I’d be drawn into helping them and forget about everything else running through my mind.

  It felt strange that I’d wound up in Centerville. I’d spent the whole first part of my life trying to run away. I didn’t love the town — it didn’t suit me. It never had. Growing up, Mom and Daddy had taken me on vacations all around the world. I’d never gotten over the thrill of waking up on a plane and seeing a whole new world at my feet. I loved Europe. We spent our summers walking through old cities on older cobblestones, eating at sidewalk cafés, and shopping for the most wonderful things imaginable. I loved it. I was always depressed for weeks when I’d get back home. America, especially Centerville, always seemed so ugly afterwards. Even in our big house, with four stories and servants, I still felt alone. Usually I’d spend the next six months after a trip dreaming about the next one. I loved to travel. Back then, I thought I’d grow up and travel the world with my love and my family at my side. Back then it hadn’t seemed impossible.

  I always thought I’d grow up to be just like Mom and Daddy. They’d met in college — he was her professor — and fallen instantly in love. Even though they had a vast age difference, nothing came between them. The three of us were a perfect little family, and I loved it. When I was sad or scared, I just closed my eyes and imagined we were a royal family, living in exile. That always made me feel better. I knew it was childish, but I couldn’t help it. It was the fantasy I’d always carried out.

  I thought I’d go to college and find a husband, then get married and settle down and have a lot of kids. I waited for that one special guy, the one who would chase me, the one who was desperately in love with me and told me all the time. But he never came. And by the time I was a teenager, things were starting to change at home. Mom was becoming obsessed with aging. Every day when I got home, she’d have some new mud treatment or mask on, or she’d been recovering from another round of facial injections. It was like she was terrified of becoming old. She lost her temper with me all the time and began to snap at me whenever Daddy would give into me about whatever I wanted. I was frightened; this wasn’t the Mom I’d always known. I still loved her; I desperately craved her approval. But no matter what I did, things between us got tenser and tenser with each passing day. Daddy wouldn’t interfere after I became a teenager. Whenever I went to him and told him Mom and I were fighting, he’d light his pipe, look me in the eye, and say, “Respect your mother, Angel. You know I raised you better than this.”

  It w
as infuriating. Even if Mom was being completely unfair, Daddy took her side. That was when things started falling apart around us. I was bored at home. Mom wouldn’t let me take a summer job — she said only peons did that — and I started sneaking out at night. There was a crowd of kids that used to hang around at a gas station downtown. One night, I worked up the courage to go meet them. I wore my sexiest outfit — a sheer white button-down shirt over a white baby doll dress — and hoped for the best. But all of the kids knew I was an outsider. They didn’t recognize me. They went to public school and I went to Hayworth Academy, a few counties over. Closing my eyes, I saw myself back there as though it were yesterday. I could still remember the feel of the hot dry dust in my nostrils as I snuck along the back road. The neon signs glowing in the windows had illuminated the gas station in a garish yellow, but I’d been more relieved than ever to finally reach my goal.

  “Look at this little bitch,” one of the rough-looking girls sneered at me when I lowered myself onto a bench in front of the gas pumps.

  I’d worn chunky sandals with crisscross straps and my feet were aching and swollen. I wasn’t used to walking in heels, and I definitely wasn’t used to walking on country roads for the better part of an hour. My whole body was covered in perspiration and I wiped a clammy hand on my damp forehead. The night was humid and dark and I could feel my red hair had frizzed into a halo around my head.

  “Leave her alone,” one of the guys sitting next to her muttered.

  He passed a joint to the girl who’d insulted me and she held it to her mouth, taking tiny, jerky sips and then passed it on. She coughed loudly. I turned to get a better look at the guy who’d stuck up for me and my heart leapt into my throat. He was gorgeous: tanned skin, messy brown hair, dark blue eyes. He was probably only eighteen or so, but he looked like a real man. An unfamiliar feeling came over my body and I felt every nerve tingling. A blush covered my face as he realized I was staring at him. But instead of looking away, he held my gaze with his. He raised his eyebrows and gave me a cocky smile. My insides melted.

  “Scram,” one of the girls said. “We don’t want you hanging around here.”

  The gorgeous guy hopped up from his perch and stretched. He was shirtless and I could see his well-defined pecs and chest muscles. I shivered, imagining how good it would feel to be pressed up against his skin. The heat of the night no longer mattered to me; I just wanted to be pressed against his body.

  “I’ll walk you home,” he said. He winked at me and I felt my heart skip a beat.

  As he stepped closer, I made out the fine, feline features of his gorgeous face. He was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen, and he wanted to walk me home! Me! I felt like I was walking on air as the boy slipped my hand through his arm and rested my fingertips gently on his skin. It was the first time we touched, and I knew right then, with absolute certainty, I’d remember this moment for the rest of my life.

  I was normally outspoken and loud, but around this guy, I felt really shy. I’d never felt this excited about anything in my life. Even getting off the plane in Europe with Mom and Daddy didn’t fill me with a thrill like this. Suddenly, this guy was my whole world. It was like being in the presence of the sun.

  “I’m Trey,” he said with a grin. “What’s your name?”

  He sized me up from head to toe and I was incredibly glad I’d worn the outfit I had. Even if my feet were aching, I knew my legs looked incredible in the chunky heels. “Angel,” I said softly. “Angel Carringer.”

  “I’m glad you came by,” Trey said. He winked at me. “I was getting a little bored by myself.”

  I felt a blush redden my cheeks and I was glad for the darkness. “You weren’t alone,” I said. My voice sounded awkward and ungainly and I winced. “You were with your friends.”

  Trey shrugged. “They’re not really my friends,” he said offhandedly. “I just hang around with them.” He stretched his arms high in the air and I was caught off guard by how adult he looked. “I mean, they don’t really know me,” he said with a grin.

  I blushed. “I don’t have a lot of friends either,” I said softly. “I mostly spend time with my parents.”

  Trey laughed. “Must be nice. I don’t get along with my folks.”

  “Oh.” We walked on in silence. I couldn’t imagine not getting along with my parents. Even though Mom and I had been fighting all the time, my mother was still my best friend in the whole world. I’d told her everything for the first seventeen years of my life.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Trey said casually. He draped an arm across my shoulders. “Hey, you’re one of the first girls I’ve met who’s almost as tall as me.”

  I blushed. I had noticed that little thing. I didn’t like most guys in high school for the simple reason that they were all almost a foot shorter than I was. But not Trey. I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes, and I was almost six feet tall. “I know. You’re the tallest guy I ever met.”

  Trey chuckled softly. I felt like an idiot; why was I having such a hard time talking to him? He was just a guy, after all.

  “Hey, is this you?” Trey pointed at the big iron gate that closed off our property.

  I’d always loved our house — it looked like a castle — but now I was embarrassed. Trey was looking at me differently than he had before. I’d never even felt mildly self-conscious about how rich we were before, but suddenly I was feeling awkward. Guilty, even, which was ridiculous because it wasn’t my fault Mom and Daddy had so much money. “It is,” I said shyly. I took a step back from Trey and felt his eyes appreciatively hugging my body.

  “Well, can I see you again? I don’t exactly have digs like that, but we could go out for dinner.”

  I grinned, biting the inside of my cheek. “I’d love that.”

  Just then, lights came on from inside the house. I heard footsteps scurrying down the long asphalt walk of the drive and though I couldn’t see who it was, I knew.

  “Angel?” Mom’s voice was high and shrill. “Angel, is that you?”

  “I’m right here, Mom,” I called out awkwardly. I looked at Trey and shrugged. He looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t move.

  “What on earth are you doing out so late?” Mom asked. She’d reached the bottom of the hill and the iron gate had swung open. Suddenly, the house looked menacing. Even Mom looked menacing; her color was high and she was clad in a silk nightgown. There was even a little pink sleep-mask perched on the top of her head.

  I felt ridiculous. “I went for a walk,” I said carefully, trying to keep my voice level. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

  Mom stepped forward and grabbed me by the arm. I cried out but she didn’t let go. Her face turned from angry to confused when she saw Trey. I watched as her eyes traveled the length of his body, taking in his ripped jeans and plain black t-shirt. “And just who is this?” Mom’s voice was mild but quiet and I could tell she was seething mad. “Angel, who is this?” The pitch of her voice rose to a shriek when I didn’t answer right away. “Tell me!”

  “I’m Trey, ma’am,” Trey said before I could speak. “Trey Minter. It’s nice to meet you.” He bowed his head courteously and I felt a surge of pride. This boy, who I’d just met tonight, was already trying to win my parents over!

  “Thanks for making sure Angel got home safely,” Mom said in a tone that implied she was anything but grateful. “I take it you’ll be leaving now.”

  Without waiting for Trey to reply, Mom steered me towards the house. It was only when we were halfway up the drive that I realized I hadn’t given Trey my phone number. I turned around and called out his name but he was already gone.

  When we got inside, Mom lectured me about Trey for hours. She told me I had no business hanging around with “bad boys like him” and that I needed to stay away, for my own safety. When I yelled back and cried and said he was my friend and I wanted to see him again, Mom called me a slut and slapped me across the face.

  “No nice man will ever want you if y
ou’re tarnished!” she yelled.

  Tears stung my eyes but I didn’t want the satisfaction of letting her see me cry. When I went to bed that night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept stalking around my room and thinking about Trey. I couldn’t believe I’d only met him hours ago and I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Already, the image of his face was fading from my memory. I had to see him again, I just had to! I’d never felt like this about anyone. The boys at Hayworth Academy were all mean, in addition to being too short for me to consider. They did things like throw pieces of chalk at girls’ asses to ruin their uniforms. Then they’d spend the whole day laughing about it. I always thought private school boys would be sexy and exciting, but the boys at Hayworth were so dull. They were like a bunch of rowdy cousins always hanging around and making monkey noises.

  In the morning, Mom, Daddy, and I had breakfast together. I sat at one end of the table and listened to Mom talking about her new charity’s upcoming gala. Daddy was funding it and we were going to have it at our yacht club that very night. I’d been looking forward to it for months. It was the first charity nighttime event that Mom was letting me attend, and I couldn’t wait. I’d even got a new gown for it, my first Oscar de la Renta. It was beautiful: white silk with a classic twist in the front of the gown and beading along the skirt and shoulder straps. I was going to wear it with white satin heels, and my hair up with a flower-crown.

  “Did you hear me?” Mom’s voice broke me out of my dress fantasy. “I said if you want to attend the gala, you have to promise not to speak to that boy again.”