Confronting the Beast
Although she had been tempted to stay with Lea, it had been Mary’s no-nonsense advice she’d needed. She’d warned Brie not to take the letter but, naturally, Brie had refused to listen. Well, she was listening now.
Mary gave Brie no sympathy, even remarking that it would be good if Sir uncollared her. When Brie broke down in hysterical tears at the suggestion, Mary quickly changed the subject.
“All you can do now is prove to Sir you understand you were wrong, and do whatever it takes to earn his trust back. If he wants to be done, then be a woman about it and leave with dignity. After all, you’re the one who screwed up.”
Brie struggled to breathe, unable to bear the thought of losing Sir.
Mary took pity on her. “But if he knows you at all, he’ll understand that you were only trying to help.”
“I was, Mary! That was my only motivation,” Brie cried.
“Yeah, yeah… Good intentions or not, the simple fact is you disobeyed him on something deeply personal. He has every right to be angry. You have to accept what comes, Brie, and deal with it. Don’t be a whiny baby about it.”
But the idea of life without Sir killed Brie inside. “I can’t lose him! Don’t you understand that he’s everything to me?”
Mary stared at her without a lick of sympathy. “If he would be happier without you, would you really deny him that?”
Brie crumpled into a heap on the couch. “No…”
“Then rest tonight. Be strong for your Master tomorrow. He’ll need your positive energy, even if he dismisses you after the meeting.”
Brie looked up at Mary, a sureness of spirit slowly taking over as she sat up straight. “Yes, you’re right. I created this mess; it is my duty to see him through it.”
Mary nudged Brie’s shoulder with her hip. “So go to bed and make me proud tomorrow.”
Brie woke up, steeling herself for the difficult meeting. Ruth was a dangerous person—indifferent of others on a level that was terrifying.
She called Sir at exactly noon, afraid to hear the displeasure in his voice. It only rang once before he answered. His tone was formal and distant. “Where are you?”
“At Mary’s, Sir.”
“Expect me in twenty minutes.” He hung up before she could respond.
She looked at Mary. “He’s still pissed.”
“To be honest, Brie, he probably isn’t thinking of you. All of his focus is centered on navigating this meeting with the bitch. I only have to imagine how I would be if I was meeting my father to know how Sir feels.”
Brie found solace in that. “My job is to serve as his strength.”
“There’s no need to wish you luck, then. You will succeed in that, I’m sure of it.”
Brie felt only gratitude. “Thanks, Mary. You’ve given me exactly what I needed to survive this nightmare.”
“A nightmare you created,” Mary pointed out, in typical Blonde Nemesis fashion.
Brie waited for Sir outside. She had planned to jump into the Lotus when it pulled up, but Sir insisted on getting out and opening the door for her. It gave her some hope that he could find it in his heart to forgive her.
The ride was silent except for a few simple instructions. “Do not speak directly to her.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do not accept anything she says as truth. She is a master of manipulation.”
“Understood, Sir.”
“Keep out of my way.”
“I will say and do nothing, Sir, unless you ask.”
He turned to stare at her briefly. “I do not want you there. It is another power play I must endure, but it will not go unanswered.” He hit the steering wheel with a vengeance, but said no more for the rest of the drive.
Sir pulled up to a high-end hotel and threw the keys to the valet without a word. He helped Brie out of the car and led her through the doors robotically. The vacant look in his eyes alerted her to the fact that his mind was elsewhere.
Naturally, Ruth was staying at the penthouse suite. Sir grunted his displeasure when the bellman pressed the button. The ride up was tense—even the young man sensed the gravity of their mood and coughed several times to hide his discomfort.
The elevator doors opened onto a small hallway and a two-door entry. Sir put his hand on Brie’s back and guided her out of the elevator, then rang the doorbell without hesitation.
“Let yourself in,” Ruth called from inside.
Sir waited until the elevator closed before opening the door. “Stay beside me,” he commanded softly. They entered the spacious loft and he shut the massive doors behind them.
Ruth was lying on a red velvet couch in a flowing gown, looking every bit the part of a diva. “Right on time, like a good boy.”
“Where’s the violin?”
“No, son, not so fast. We need to talk first.”
“Produce the violin or I will leave.”
Ruth narrowed her eyes, studying him for a second before pulling herself off the couch and disappearing into the bedroom. She came back a few moments later, holding the violin away from her as if it were a piece of unwanted trash.
She laid it on the end of the sofa, placed a pillow over it and lay back down, her body a shield protecting the instrument. “Now we will talk. Take a seat,” she said, gesturing to a small couch opposite hers. “Both of you.”
Sir led Brie over and they sat down, facing Ruth, but Brie turned her head and stared at Sir’s chest. She concentrated all her energies upon his heart.
“She’s a mousey little thing, isn’t she?” Ruth complained.
“I’m not here to discuss Miss Bennett. Why don’t you just state your request and be done with the games?”
Ruth’s laughter filled the room. “Request? It’s a demand, son. Make no mistake about it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Brie saw Sir’s lips twitch, but he said calmly, “Proceed.”
“It’s simple. I have plenty of cash overseas, but am temporarily unable to access it and I need it now. The only way I can survive this cancer is through non-traditional means. That takes money and lots of it, son.”
“Are we still imagining we have cancer?”
Her voice became low and harsh. “You are a heartless bastard. Yes, I’m dying! But I see that has no effect on you.”
When she got no response from Sir, she addressed Brie. “What kind of son treats his dying mother this way?”
Brie continued to stare at Sir’s chest, but she felt a slow, angry blush creep over her face.
“Now you can see what a ruthless man he truly is. But at least you believe me, Brie. You’ve been on my side from the beginning and even helped me meet with him today. You’re really precious to me, dear. You know that, don’t you?”
When Brie did not answer, she laughed. “Thane, she reminds me of your father. That look of pure devotion…it will be the death of her.”
“Enough!” he snapped.
“Mark my words, you will destroy her. You are, after all, your mother’s son.”
Sir stood up. “We’re done here.”
Ruth lay back on the couch. “No, we’re not. There’s still the issue of the money for my cancer treatment.”
“How much?”
“It isn’t cheap. It could run as high as a million.”
“I don’t have that amount of money lying around,” he stated angrily.
“Well, then give it to me in installments. Half a million now, half a million before Brie’s film comes out.”
“Why then?”
“Insurance.”
Sir pulled out his checkbook, calmly wrote out a check for five hundred thousand dollars from his personal account and held it out to her.
Brie felt sick to her stomach watching him give in so easily to the witch.
“Have Brie bring it to me, boy.”
Sir gave the check to Brie and nodded, his eyes revealing neither anger nor defeat. She stood up and walked over to Ruth. The woman lay there, studying her like a piece of meat. With a dissatisfied grunt, she took the check. “Before I give her the violin, let me make sure this money is good.”
She called the number on the check and verified the funds were available.
“Good boy.” She sat up and pulled the violin from under the pillow. She held it out to Brie and, without warning, dropped it from her grasp.
With lightning-quick reflexes, Brie caught the instrument before it hit the floor.
“Pity,” the woman exclaimed, folding the check and stuffing it into her brassiere.
Brie carried the violin with reverence back to Sir. He took it, looking it over briefly before commenting. “Do you have the case?”
“It’s in the bedroom. Have your pet get it,” Ruth answered in a disinterested voice.
With Sir’s permission, Brie went to retrieve it. The case, lined with red velvet, was open on the bed. She closed it slowly, feeling power radiating from that simple violin case—a connection to the past.
Brie held it to her chest as she walked back to Sir. With the same reverence she had shown, Sir placed the violin inside and latched it shut.
Sir spoke to Ruth in a businesslike manner. “Where should I send the next check? I do not want to meet with you again.”
“Agreed. Totally unnecessary to meet in person. I’ve gotten what I need from my heartless son.” She lifted a card from the table and handed it to him. “Send it here two weeks before the premiere. Failure to do so will have dire consequences.”
Sir took the card and tucked it into his jacket.
“There are three things you might find of interest, Ruth.” He nodded towards the check. “One: that is a bogus account. You will not be receiving any funds from me. Two: I know that you had your medical records altered. I could only wish to get rid of you that easily. Three: my lawyer informed me that you are bankrupt—not a cent to your name. You are living on borrowed time and that time has finally run out.”
She rose from the couch in a furious rage. “Foolish boy! I will bury you!”
Sir tucked the violin under his arm and said, “We’re finished here.”
“Finished is right!” Ruth screeched. “My threats are not idle, Thane. I will trash your reputation as thoroughly as I did your father’s. You will lose everything. Money, honor…” she looked directly at Brie, “…love.”
“Unlike my father, I am not dead and can defend myself.”
Her laughter was hard and cruel. “You underestimate me, son. There will be nothing left when I’m through.”
“I repeat, I am capable of defending myself. And yes, your threats are idle. I do not fear you.” He put his hand on Brie’s back and directed her towards the door.
Ruth hissed from behind them, “I’m coming after you too, precious. If I don’t ruin you, Thane will.”
Brie took a deep breath once the elevator doors had closed. It felt as if she had survived a physical battle. She was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. She glanced at Sir and was heartened to see a slight smirk on his face.
Yes, he’d won the hour.
Although Sir remained aloof when they returned home, he called her to him that evening and asked her to bow at his feet. “I actually contemplated uncollaring you, Brie, but something the beast said today caused me to reconsider. She is correct in likening your devotion to that of my father. It is also true that a part of my mother lives in me. I am capable of being heartless and cruel, but my father’s unfailing passion beats in this heart. It is his legacy that I choose to live out.”
Brie looked up hesitantly, afraid to hope.
“Are you repentant of reading the letter?”
“More than you know, Sir.”
“Will you ever contact her again, in any way?”
“Never knowingly, Sir.”
He snorted in understanding and amended his statement. “Will you immediately tell me if you encounter her unexpectedly?”
“Immediately, Sir. No hesitation.”
He ordered her to stand. “As punishment, I could have you endure another session with rice or even a thorough beating.”
Brie bowed her head, ready to accept his punishment, although she feared it would be much harsher than the first.
His breath was long and drawn out, as if he was completely exhausted. “However, I fear whatever the beast has planned will far surpass any punishment I could deliver. She will attempt to break you emotionally. It will get ugly, I guarantee it. Are you strong enough? If not, then I should set you free now.”
She took offense at the offer and stated proudly, “I would die for you, Sir.”
He growled, “Dying is not an option, téa.”
Hearing her pet name uttered from his lips made her whole body sing with relief. “What I meant, Sir, is that I would suffer any hardship to remain by your side.”
“You must be sure, téa.”
Brie kissed his hand lovingly. “In good times and in bad, there is no place I would rather be than by your side.”
“Then we stand together.”
“As one, Sir.”
His smirk from earlier returned. “I did enjoy the look on her face the moment she realized she’d been beaten at her own game.”
“It was brilliantly delivered, Sir.”
“After being forced into a corner, I spent the night devising my plan and setting the wheels in motion. As my mother said, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ The beast didn’t stand a chance.”
“Your father would have been proud.”
“No,” Sir said solemnly, “he would have been saddened that we were still fighting against each other, but I trust he’d have understood my actions.” His gaze suddenly became sentimental. “Although I was against you being there today, your presence was…appreciated.”
Brie smiled at him lovingly.
Sir took her hand and placed it over the healing brand on his chest. “This is where you remain. Always.”
Burying herself in his embrace, she whispered, “Thank you, Sir.”
When she walked into the bedroom that night, she found the violin lying in the middle of the bed. The two lay down on either side of it. She could tell he had something he wanted to share.
Sir touched the strings, making a light strumming sound. “This instrument has been in our family for over two hundred years. It was passed down from generation to generation to the most promising talent.”
“I had no idea it was that old.”
“My great-grandfather was an American who fought in World War I. He fell in love with the Italian language and culture after making friends among the troops and decided to relocate there after the war ended. He married the sister of one of his Italian comrades and set about propagating the world with eight children, the youngest being my grandfather. Although Nonno never stepped onto American soil, he carried the Davis name and was granted the family heirloom when it was discovered his son had exceptional talent.”
Brie stroked the smooth wood, amazed so much family history was represented in one instrument.
“My American relatives invested in his education, flying my father out here when he was only twelve. For all intents and purposes, he grew up an American but never lost his love for his homeland. At least four times a year we would visit, even when his concert schedule became hectic. Family meant everything to him.”
“What a rich childhood you had, Sir.”
“True, I did.” His eyes held a haunted look, but Sir smiled as he looked down at the violin. “After he passed, the only thing I wanted of my father’s was this violin. Naturally, my mother refused to give it to me. I had assumed she’d sold it because of its considerable worth, but now I realize she kept it all these years for one reason.”
Brie looked at him sadly. “Blackmail.”
His eyes narrowed and his voice became dark. “Yes, but she failed to take into account that I am my mother’s son. I am not so easily manipulated.”
Brie ran her fingers over the strings tenderly. “Now it’s back where it belongs.” She smiled. “Is this the violin he always played, Sir?”
His expression softened. “Yes. My father would touch no other.”
“So when I hear his music, I am hearing this instrument.”
“Yes.”
“Wow…” she said in admiration. Brie looked at it again, realizing it was a piece of Alonzo’s soul in physical form.
Sir picked it up and placed it back in the case. “And now it can wait for the next in the Davis line to bring it back to life.”
“A beautiful gift…”
His eyes shone with triumph when he replied, “A valuable legacy. One worth fighting for.”
Read more in Hold Me, the sixth book in the Brie's Submission Series.
