His Inheritance

Doppelganger

Warnings: Kidnapping, non-con, rough sex, explicit sex, slapping, choking, gaslighting, oral sex (M receiving), orgasm denial, threats, domestic violence, references to gun wounds, references to prescription drugs. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Lloyd Hansen's men wisely gave him a wide berth as he ran for the SUV. His driver's eyes were wide when he climbed into the back, bleeding like a stuck pig. He didn't give a shit about the jacket and turtleneck ruined by the shot. The blood running down his white slacks? That pissed him off.

Fucking looks like I forgot my maxi pad.

The driver got the vehicle moving, eyeing him in the mirror every few seconds.

"You good, boss?" he asked in a rare show of bravery.

Lloyd had to laugh, using the heel of his hand to put pressure on the wound to staunch the bleeding. There was no exit wound. The round was still in his fucking shoulder, and he was really hoping it wasn't a hollow point she got him with.

"Just get me back to the house," Lloyd directed.

"Who shot you, sir?"

Lloyd shook his head. Yeah, his chest and shoulder hurt like a bitch, but he had to appreciate the totally ludicrous fucking situation.

"Mrs. Rogers shot me," he told the man with a smirk.

With that, the driver's gaze went back to the road and stayed. Oh, Lloyd knew most of the men who worked for him were too afraid to react to most things he said. What if their reaction was the wrong one? It made him happy they felt that way. That they feared him. Once in a while when they were fairly confident in their answers, he'd unload on them. Sometimes the attack was verbal. Sometimes it was physical.

Either way, it kept them on their toes.

They reached his place in minutes, his driver pulling into the garage. Lloyd climbed out, the pain in his shoulder and chest worse. He'd have to dig out the fucking bullet, take something for the pain.

"Sir, did you want any... company tonight?" His driver pulled the door further open for him, not meeting his gaze. "Probably don't feel like it after that."

Was that a challenge? Lloyd couldn't have his men thinking he was weak now, could he? Vulnerable? Fuck that.

Besides, Lloyd knew just what he was in the mood for.

"I would like some company," he told his driver. "Someone special."

The driver's gaze met him, perked up and eager to please. "Want me to bring you Milly?"

The girl was a local. Milly didn't work the streets. She kept a small list of regular clients, and she was one of the rare few who would negotiate for the little extras he required. It was tempting and she was a very good actress most of the time.

Lloyd just wasn't in the mood for role play. He wanted something authentic.

Lloyd shook his head. "No, bring me the girl from the donut shop. You know the one."

His driver wasn't expecting him to say that. The man's mouth dropped open and then he closed it.

"Something to say, Harry?" Lloyd taunted him.

"She's not..." Harry's voice shook. It was satisfying. "She's not a professional."

Lloyd walked around him to the side door of his house. "I'm aware. Go get her."

"Yes, sir." The reply didn't sound confident.

Lloyd really didn't give a shit.

Leaving Harry to bring him his treat, he wandered into his house, flipping on lights as he went and swearing at the trail of blood he was leaving across the floor as he went. Making it to his guest bathroom because it was closest, he flipped on the bright light and winced. When he took in his reflection in the mirror, Lloyd blew out an exhale. He'd looked better.