Taken by The Boss

By: Sam Crescent

The Taking of Clara 3


Chapter One

 

The anger inside Matthew threatened to consume him. He stared at her father, wishing he could take the bastard down once and for all. Seeing the other man’s arms on his woman filled his mind with so many vile thoughts they threatened to explode out of him. No man, not even her father, got to touch Clara unless he said otherwise.

“She’s a beauty, Matthew. I see why you’ve been keeping her to yourself,” Luke said. His friend moved over to his woman, took her chin in hand, and turned her head this way and that. For some reason seeing his friend touching Clara didn’t fill him with anger. If anyone touched his woman Luke would be the only man he trusted.

Before Matthew got a chance to speak Luke moved away from Clara. Matthew turned his attention to Edward Baines.

“What the fuck are you doing in my home?” Matthew asked.

“Matthew—”

He cut Clara off with a raised hand. “Don’t speak for him, Clara. Go upstairs to our room. I’ll talk with you later.”

She looked ready to argue. Taking his gaze away from her father, Matthew stared at his woman. “Don’t argue with me.”

Nodding her head, Clara moved away. She took one last look around the room then left.

“You’re right, she’s submissive all right.”

He didn’t get the chance to feel the pleasure at his friend’s words. His attention moved to her shit head of a father. The older man looked ready to scarper.

“I fucking told you not to get in touch with her.” He moved closer, ready to take Edward down. The man before him would only cause more problems than actually solving them.

“She’s my daughter. You can’t keep her away from me.”

Matthew grabbed him around the throat and pressed him against the wall. He kept a firm grip on his neck, wanting to squeeze the life out of him. Instead, he kept control of his sanity. He didn’t like being disobeyed.

“You’ve never given a shit about her or her problems. You’ve always been the fucking cause. Now, tell me, what are you doing in my home?”

He refused to break his stare. Not a match for the man in front of him, Edward looked down at the floor, defeated. “I need more money. If I don’t get the money to Randal he’s going to kill me.”

Matthew knew the name. Randal owned half of the illegal gambling strip in Vegas. He wasn’t one of the best men to know.

“How much do you need?” Matthew asked.

“You can’t be serious? If you give this scum the money he’s only going to come back for more,” Luke said.

“I’m not giving this shit head the money. I’m going to give it to Randal and I’m going to make sure Clara is never in any danger. Randal may be a bastard but he’ll listen to me.” He’d warn the man about Edward. The only way to stop her father from constantly appearing on their doorstep would be to go to one of the main sources of his loans.

“I think you’re stupid.”

“I’m not stupid. I’m thinking of my woman.”

He didn’t hit Clara’s father even though he wanted to. Edward told him the amount. In the next moment he phoned his accountant, requesting the large sum of money out of his bank.

Luke grabbed a pair of cuffs from Matthew’s playroom. Matthew cuffed Edward to a chair to keep him in place. Staring at Clara’s father felt like a kick to the gut. When he gave the money to Randal, there would be no chance of Edward getting away with it.

“Keep an eye on him. I’m going to talk with Clara.”

Luke nodded. His friend’s attention lay on the paper in front of him.

He made his way up the stairs. The door to his room was open. Was Clara waiting for him to enter? Clara sat on the end of the bed in a white negligee, brushing her hair. She looked so tempting to him. Leaning against the doorframe, Matthew simply watched her.

“He only came because of the money, didn’t he?” she asked.

She looked up at him. Tears shone in her eyes making her look vulnerable.

“I’m afraid so, baby. He’s got problems and no amount of rehab will help him.”

Her sigh filled the silence.

Matthew moved to her side and pulled her into his arms, wanting to offer her the comfort he could provide. She went into his arms without argument.

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