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I lost everything, was shipped off to live with an aunt I barely knew, and was put to work cleaning her dilapidated antique shop.
And then, I met Callum.
Or should I say I released him?
I was a socialite with a strong sense of entitlement and a lot of anger.
He was a Dominant genie with a hard body and an even harder hand.
It could never work.
Two weeks before my twenty-third birthday, the day I would obtain financial freedom, and there I sat, on a dirty chair in a police station. I crossed one leg over the other and observed the hustle and bustle going on all around me. Uniformed officers answered phones, escorted people in handcuffs, and worked behind computers. There were a myriad of noises, and the smell of stale coffee floated through the air. It made my mouth water for a cup of the real heavenly elixir. I’d had a long night, and it had been well over an hour since he brought me in.
Same old song and dance. A new asshole cop pulls me over for driving slightly over the speed limit and gets his panties in a wad when I tell him who I am. I’ve never understood why each and every cop seemed to think they could do whatever the hell they wanted because they hid behind a badge. Well, he would learn like the rest of them had. The badge held no power over my family.
My father, the governor, owned the whole damn city. He came from old money. Old dirty money. For as far back as our family history had been traced, there had been a criminal enterprise attached. My ancestors were drug smugglers, flesh peddlers, and all around bad guys. My father was no better, and with the political clout, there was no stopping him. Not proud of this fact, I did like the money, so I took advantage of the perks of my last name.
I was untouchable. No one dared fuck with a Burelli. And if they did, well, they were dealt with. I don’t know how my father did it, and I truly didn’t care, but people learned their place around us, and they learned quickly.
Daddy dearest was not a nice man, but I stayed out of his way, and he stayed out of mine. Except in times like this. Officer “Save the world one criminal at a time” had pulled me over for speeding and taken me into custody for driving under the influence. Coming home from a party where I had been drinking and participating in a little recreational drug use, I was sober. At least that’s what I told the idiot. Just because I couldn’t walk a straight line, he thought he knew better, but I would like to see him walk that line in my six-inch fuck me heels.
Vincent Burelli barged into the station with two of his bulky cronies at his back. Dressed in a three thousand dollar custom suit, every fiber of his being exuded wealth. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as each officer averted their eyes. They may as well have bowed at his feet. The pussies.
“Where’s my daughter?”
I stood without a word and dusted off my dress. It was disgusting in that place, and I didn’t deserve to be stuck there for so long. “I’m here, Daddy. I told them to let me go home, but officer “Do Right” here wouldn’t listen to me.”
I pointed at the man who brought me in, further sealing his fate. My father’s eyes looked past me and pierced the flesh of the poor man. I felt a little sorry as I watched his bravado fade when he realized the magnitude of his mistake, however, it was the only way these jackasses would learn to leave me alone.
“Get in the car. I don’t have time to deal with this.”
I walked past him without a word, but no way was I getting in his car. He would get my keys, and I could leave and do whatever I damn well pleased. Two more weeks and I would be able to access my trust fund and get out of dodge. The city was not the only thing suffocating under my father’s control.
The fresh air washed over me as I exited the building, and I took some deep breaths to cleanse my senses of the stuffy station. One of the goons followed me outside and stood sentry near me. I never kept track of their names because they rotated often, and I couldn’t care less who they were. This one seemed bigger than the rest though. I took stock of his wide shoulders and large build. He looked like he could be an NFL linebacker. His face was scarred and covered in a thick beard. Not my type. I liked clean cut, slender pretty boys who could wine and dine me and show me a good time. Sighing deeply, I crossed my arms and waited for my keys. At that exact moment my entire life changed, permanently.