Fate

Chapter Fifty Six

Word Count: 1495

​Zayla felt a strange tremor pass through her as she stepped onto the warm sand of the cove. Everything was as it had been the last time she'd been there, when she'd told Fate she was leaving. The jewel-bright water still shone in the perfect sunlight. The sand still felt silky soft as she sunk into it. The stone house, however, with its many windows, was empty and dark.

​"I remember coming to this place for the first time six years ago," she said, looking around. She spoke quietly, almost to herself. "Fate had come for me, and he brought me here. I was so scared. I had no idea what was about to happen. I was a prisoner."

She looked at Greed, who was watching her closely. She smiled, coldly. "And now I return, a conqueror."

​"A touching story," Greed said, lightly, "but what does it have to do with me? Why did you bring me here?'

​Zayla gestured around. "Do you like what you see?"

​Greed shrugged. "I suppose."

​"Fate's lands extend, of course. When you walk through the house and look out," she smiled, "everything the light touches belongs."

​"How fortunate for Fate," Greed said, bitterly. Greed had never had land of his own, a fact Zayla knew well. She wasn't sure who had made the decision, perhaps it had been the Moon, but Fate had told her no one trusted that Greed would be content with just a piece of land—he would want everything—so he had never been given anything. And she knew he hungered for something of his own.

​"How fortunate for you," Zayla said, quietly, taking a step toward Greed. "This can be yours. And that's just to start. We could conquer the Immortal realm one land at a time. We could have it all.".

​Greed's eyes burned now. His pale face was flushed. "You and I, together?"

​She watched him, carefully. "Together."

​He grinned and arched an eyebrow.
"Together."

***

​When he heard the elevator ding, Fate didn't even bother looking over. Only Celine had the code to his penthouse, and he knew it would be her. Her clicking heels confirmed such.

​"Your vermouth," he said, sliding a drink along the bar toward her.

​She settled onto the velvet stool next to his. "You always know what I want."

​It was hard to miss the double entendre in her statement, and he smiled. "I hope you're not going to be this easy to please all night. Make me work a little."

​He glanced over in time to catch her small smile. She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear and took a slow drink, keeping her eyes on his. "The arrangements are made for the tournament."

​"All of them?" he asked, watching as she slid her hand up his thigh. "How very efficient of you."

​"I can be made useful in many, many ways, sir," Celine said, purring.

​"Yes," Fate said, leaning back as her hand cupped his cock, which had started to strain against his cashmere wool pants, "of that I am well, aware, Celine."

​She took one last drink and slid off her chair.
​He followed her to the bedroom, where she was already shedding her black suit jacket and crisp white blouse. Her skirt followed as she, now wearing only her red lace bra and panties, stepped forward and began undressing him. "Donny has the additional security detail checking in tomorrow morning, to be briefed on our procedures."

​"Good," Fate said, as Celine unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop to the floor.

​He pushed her down to the bed and she fell back. He stepped toward her and she reached for him, taking his cock in her hand and stroking it, lightly at first, but increasing the pressure.