| Arabella |

"I need you to retrieve something for me. A black box that had something very valuable to me was stolen from my home and I want it back," His steady gaze never left mine.

Leaning forward, Scott pulled a cigar from a dark wooden box with a mother of pearl inlay on the lid, deep intricate patterns carved on the sides, laying on the coffee table. Clipping the end, he brought it to his lips all the while keeping his eyes fixed on me. I watched the flame flicker to life as he clicked the lighter, the tobacco burning red as it caught alight, the smoke obstructing his cold gaze.

"Why are you asking me to do this? Why not ask one of your goonies," I replied bitterly, eyes narrowing in anger at his nonchalant demeanour.

Scott laughed humourlessly at my response, seemingly unfazed. I found my eyes wandering in the moments it took for him to respond, taking in the room around me. Thoughts of what if's and maybe's flooded my mind, wondering if I was born into another family would my life have turned out differently?

"Arabella."

I looked back towards Scott as my thoughts were broken by my name on his lips. I raised a brow in question, not having heard what he said.

"You will do what I ask you to do, because one, I can hand you over to Jimmy for that petty crime that he hasn't stopped bitching about," he paused, sucking in a long breath of the cigar before blowing the smoke my way, "and two, you know what will happen if you don't."

I didn't need him to voice out what he meant. I didn't need the words to leave his mouth that he knew where my mother was, knew that if he wanted he could have her killed without so much as a second glance. And even though Scott referred to me as his little gem, I know he won't hesitate in killing me either.

I clenched my fists feeling my nails dig painfully into the palms of my hands, absolutely hating the power he held over me.

I grit my teeth as I glared at him. I owed my mother nothing, not even her life. She never fought for me, let them take me away even though I begged her not to. She gave me up so easily that it was even comical to still be calling her that word, mother. She didn't deserve the title. And even so, I couldn't let go of the love I had for her, the small glimmer of hope that one day she would still choose me.

Glancing at Scott, I knew that if things hadn't happened the way they did, I also wouldn't know him. And as much as I fucking hated being a run around for Scott, he was the glimmer of hope in my life. The one constant I could always rely on.

The only person that wasn't going to leave.

Was I going to make it easy for him? Never.

"What do you need?" I breathed out, shoulders tense as I could feel my muscles already pulling tightly.

"A black box. My sister has it in a safe in her apartment in the city. She stole it from me when my father passed on, after it had been left to me in his will," Taking another drag of the cigar, his eyes focused intently on mine as the smoke wafted in the air around his face in twirls, "I want it back."

Great. Now I was involved in Scott's family drama.

I knew he was one of three children, and he was meant to take over the family business. His father pushed and pushed, trying to force Scott into this matchbox mould he was never built for.

I watched the many years pass by of Scott trying to prove to his father that he was worthy, that he was enough. Until he wasn't. All I know was he left, and his dad disowned him.

And then there was me. Picking up both our broken pieces. In all honesty, I don't know where he ended and I began.

I rolled my eyes while gathering my hair up into a high ponytail.

Looking down into those ice blue eyes, I took a step towards him. In the same moment, the men surrounding us took quick steps forward before Scott raised two fingers to stop them. I smirked at the thought of how well trained he had them like dogs.

Placing my hands on his knees, I gave a light push indicating for him to open his legs. He complied, shifting his legs apart slowly, his cold gaze never moving from mine. Our faces inches apart, my heart now frantically beating against my rib cage screaming profanities at me for my stupidity. I reached out and took the cigar from his lips placing it in mine. Taking a deep inhale, I felt the burn as I wasn't a smoker by any means, blowing the smoke in his face slowly.

His eyes closed momentarily, watching his chest rise as he breathed the smoke in before they shot back open, his chest falling with the exhale.

"So what will it be, Miss Summers?" he questioned, smirking as he used a name I had long forgotten and deeply hated.

"Do I have a choice Scott?"

"No, you do not." he answered, his tone teetering on the edge of fury.

"Then you have my answer." Taking another inhale, I leaned forward placing my lips against his as the smoke escaped in the gaps when our lips parted. I stood up, turning to put out the cigar on the table, before walking back the way we came in.

I could hear movement behind me, and before I could make it past the guards, a hand wrapped around the nape of my neck roughly, stopping me in my tracks. Scotts men took a step back reflectively keeping the same distance from him as before.

I could feel his hot breath on my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

"I asked you a question Miss Summers, I expect an answer," he growled, feeling his lips move against my ear with every word. His fingers dug a little deeper as his patience wore thin, his anger becoming more prominent.

"Fuck you Scott," I sneered trying to turn my head and face him. "I might not be able to leave your stupid little gang or have the freedom I want, and you can use my body all you want. But make no mistake, you don't own my soul."

His grip tightened as his free hand gripped my hip in a bruising hold. He pulled me back until his chest was flush against my back, rolling his hips into my backside. I could feel his arousal knowing how the control turned him on.

"Don't test me Arabella. I promise you I won't be fucking pleasant about it and you'll realize our little rendezvous will be a walk in the park compared to what I'll do to you," His words sent a shiver down my spine, the bruising grip taking me into that numbing headspace that I loved so much. "And as far as your soul is concerned, you sold it to the devil the day we met."

Though this wasn't the time or place for it, I cleared my head as much as I could, ignoring the electric feeling pulsing through my veins, I turned my head in his direction slightly. "It comes at a price."

The laugh that rattled through my ears as if he knew I would ask for something in return, frightened me.

"How much?" He asked through gritted teeth, his hand clamping down harder on my hip. My mind began unravelling as my body began reacting the way it usually did when I felt the familiar pain. I hated it so much.

"How much Arabella?" He growled, lips pressed harshly against my ear as he rolled his hips forward again just to remind me of his promise earlier.

I said the first thing I could think of through the fog. "H-house," my teeth clenching as the pain began to ripple through me.

"What house?" his voice was threateningly low, lips brushing against the shell of my ear as the heat of his breath had my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

"I want a home of my own." I whispered.

"Done," he breathed, his hand snaking to the front of my throat, forcing me to look at him as he squeezed down once again, "Arabella, if you fail to get me what I want in the time I have given you, know that I will find her and kill her in front of you. Slowly. Painfully." Each word enunciated with a squeeze before he pushed me forward as he let go.