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  INVISIBLE LEASH

  M . H . B .

  Copyright © 2018 M . H . B .

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on by the subsequent purchaser.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 9781999464806

  Edited by: Samantha Paquin

  Book Cover Design by: Rocío Martín Osuna

  To You.

  My Heart Locket. My Dream Catcher.

  My Secret Keeper.

  “She’s been through more Hell then you’ll ever know. But, that’s what gives her beauty an edge…You can’t touch a woman who can wear pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.”

  – Alfa (c)

  Table of Contents

  1 Sage

  2 Jacob

  3 Sage

  4 Jacob

  5 Sage

  6 Jacob

  7 Lincoln

  8 Sage

  9 Jacob

  10 Sage

  11 Jacob

  12 Lincoln

  13 Sage

  14 Jacob

  15 Sage

  16 Sage

  17 Lincoln

  18 Jacob

  19 Sage

  20 Lincoln

  21 Sage

  22 Jacob

  23 Jacob

  24 Sage

  25 Jacob

  26 Sage

  27 Jacob

  28 Sage

  29 Sage

  30 Lincoln

  31 Jacob

  32 Sage

  33 Lincoln

  34 Jacob

  35 Sage

  36 Jacob

  37 Lincoln

  38 Jacob

  39 Sage

  40 Jacob

  41 Lincoln

  42 Sage

  43 Jacob

  44 Sage

  45 Sage

  46 Jacob

  47 Sage

  48 Lincoln

  49 Sage

  50 Jacob

  51 Sage

  52 Jacob

  53 Lincoln

  54 Sage

  55 Jacob

  56 Sage

  Acknowledgments

  1

  SAGE

  I took a sip of my gin, the liquid immediately serving its purpose. I was sitting outside on my penthouse balcony, which provided me with a beautiful view of New York City’s Upper East Side and its endless multitude of glimmering lights.

  “Which tie looks better?” Lincoln asked, interrupting my reverie. He was holding two black ties that looked very similar, except the one on the left was clearly made of better quality silk. That was the one I pointed to.

  “As always, expensive taste,” he said with a small smile.

  I simply went inside to the bedroom, chugging the liquor before setting the glass down on my night table next to my grey leather-platform bed. I spotted Lincoln’s socks and boxers on the floor, laid there like he had no respect for the fact that this was my damn apartment and not his.

  He followed me into the bedroom, knowing he’d overstayed his welcome. “Don’t worry, I’m on my way out. Is this about your father?” he asked. “He’ll never know I slept over.”

  Trust me, I’m sure he’d be thrilled.

  But Lincoln didn’t need to know that.

  “Well, he might find out if you keep leaving trails of clothes all over my apartment,” I said, my eyes on his discarded socks.

  “Alright,” he said, picking up his clothes. “There.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  Lincoln eyed me as he put on his blazer. “Sage?” he asked gently.

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll see you at six.”

  I nodded. We had yet another fundraiser tonight, which wasn’t unusual for a Saturday.

  He leaned closer presumably to kiss me but then changed his mind and left.

  At last, I was alone with my own thoughts. I exhaled loudly. I felt like a child, eager to have her parents leave so that she could have the house all to herself. I set my phone alarm for 8 a.m. before climbing into my bed, pulling the covers over my head, and going back to sleep.

  Hours later, I put on a bra and underwear under a loose-fitting cotton dress and made my way downstairs, holding on to the glass railing, when I heard a knock on my door.

  I could already hear my mother’s voice outside the apartment, along with my siblings. They were early.

  “Thanks for babysitting,” my mom said as they walked inside before she reminded my brother to behave. I doubt he heard her over the music playing through his big-ass earphones.

  Hello to you too brother.

  “He’s obsessed with that thing,” my mom said with an air of annoyance, as she pointed to the iPad he held in his hands.

  I shrugged. “He’s thirteen Mom.” I made my way over to the couch along with Sierra, my younger sister.

  “I know. I just wished he’d open up a book sometimes,” she sighed, rummaging through her purse. “I shouldn’t be too long—I just have a few errands to run. We’re having dinner with Senator Huggs and his wife tonight.”

  After my mom left, I questioned Sierra about school while she did her homework.

  Caleb removed his earphones, shaking his head in mock disdain. “You do know what day it is, right?”

  “Cal, so nice of you to greet us with your presence,” I mocked him.

  Sierra cut him off before he could reply. “Of course, I know what day it is. It’s Saturday–”

  “Just sayin’ . . . your homework can wait. Besides, school’s almost done,” he countered putting back his earphone, drowning out whatever sarcastic remark she came up with next.

  And just like that we lost him again. Pity.

  Sometimes Sierra reminded me of myself when I was younger—a complete smartass who’d rather spend time doing homework than hanging out with friends. Caleb, like most boys his age, couldn’t care less about homework.

  All three of us had our mom’s genes—blond hair and blue eyes—unlike my older brother, Corey, who’d ended up with light brown hair and brown eyes like our father. Caleb kept his hair longer, just under his chin, despite my mom’s attempts to make him cut it. Sierra, on the other hand, kept hers shoulder length in an angular cut that added years to her young age.

  They kept doing their own thing while I took out my MacBook to check for job listings at law firms. I’d been trying to find a job ever since my graduation from the New York University School of Law in May.

  When June rolled around, I started to worry that it would be harder to find a job than I’d anticipated, especially since I’d never had one before. But I was determined—despite the fact that it would go completely against Father’s wishes to pursue a career rather than marrying Lincoln right away and dedicating myself to raising our prospective children.

  Joy, for the beautiful life that awaits me.

  “Sage?” Sierra asked, interrupting my thoughts. “What do you remember about your sixteenth birthday party? You know, the one where Dad showed you off to the community as if you were living in the eighteenth century?” She rolled her eyes, putting her pen down.

  I froze. The last thing I wanted to do was discuss that day with anyone, especially my sister.

  “Why?” I said, trying to
put her off. “Is he already starting to plan yours?”

  “Probably. But mostly I’m just curious.”

  “Oh. Well . . . it’ll be just like any other party, basically. You’ll be forced to wear a dress,” I told her.

  “Great, a dress,” groaned Sierra. “I might just have to have the flu that day.” Then, much to my relief, she turned her attention back to her homework.

  I refocused my energy on job searching, relieved to know that there was still plenty of time before my sister turned sixteen. I continued to tweak my resume, hoping that someday I’d have real experience to add to it. Sierra and I chatted casually until Caleb joined us once he was hungry, begging me to bring him some snacks.

  A few hours later, someone knocked on the door.

  “It’s probably Dad,” Caleb muttered, holding the iPad only inches away from his eyes.

  “I’m not answering,” Sierra said, casting a sideways look at me. “He’s pissed off, lately.”

  “What else is new?” I said, putting my Mac on the couch and getting up.

  “Hello,” I said to my father as I opened the door. Before he even had a chance to respond I started to head for the kitchen to pour myself a lunchtime gin and tonic.

  Better make it a double.

  “Hi, Caleb. Hello, Sierra,” I heard him say to my younger siblings. Both ignored him. “I assume you heard Lincoln’s good news?” He asked me from the kitchen doorway.

  “Enlighten me,” I replied with my back to him, rolling my eyes.

  “Lincoln is running for senator in the next election,” he said. Stunned, I turned to face him for the first time that morning, noting how his gray hair had been quickly turning white lately and how wrinkles were settling over his narrow face.

  His stern black glasses made him look mean and controlling—which, believe me, he was.

  “That’s great,” I lied, downing the entire gin and tonic in one go.

  The truth was, Lincoln hadn’t even run the idea by me. I mean, we’d just started “dating” not that long ago, but a heads-up still would have been nice.

  “It is, isn’t it?” Father schmoozed with self-satisfaction.

  I slammed my glass down on the counter. “Doesn’t he have to be thirty to be elected senator?”

  He looked at me suspiciously as he helped himself to a glass from my cupboard and the bottle of whiskey from my counter. He knew I didn’t want to be with Lincoln, but he didn’t care. In his mind, I was practically born with the words “trophy wife” tattooed on my forehead.

  “Technically, he can run for senator if his thirtieth birthday is before the new Congress on January third, which it is. I expect his opponents will try to make a legal thing of it.”

  “Well, whatever,” I muttered, walking out of the kitchen.

  I could hear him follow me into the living room, which aggravated me. “We’re going to see Senator Huggs tonight. He’s on his way out of office next week. I’ll have him lay the proper groundwork.”

  He took another swallow of his whiskey.

  “Is that all? Because I’m a little busy now . . .”

  “Fine. I’d best be going anyway,” he said, looking at his watch, which cost more than most people’s yearly salary. “In the meantime, why don’t you look into doing some charity work or something? Maybe with orphans or fat kids? Voters love that sort of thing.”

  Absolutely lovely. Lincoln was going to be senator while I got stuck being a jobless photo op.

  “Why the hell can’t I get a job?” I demanded. “I didn’t go to college for nothing. I have a law degree, for God’s sake!”

  “Voters will like that, too,” he said smugly.

  My mouth fell open. “This is bullshit. I want more for myself,” I muttered the last bit.

  “Enough,” he said, placing his empty glass on the coffee table with a thud. “Sage, you’re twenty-two, and you’re not getting any younger. You should be grateful I found Lincoln when I did. With our families bound together, we’ll have so much influence over the business sector that a pretty blond like you couldn’t even begin to imagine the fun she could have.”

  With that, he left, slamming the apartment door behind him. I had to resist the urge to open the door and slam it all over again.

  Caleb and Sierra looked at me apologetically, understanding my frustration. Our older brother got to work as a consultant at Trainus, yet Father expected me to sit behind Lincoln’s throne and do nothing.

  Well, fuck him.

  Eventually my mom came to pick up Caleb and Sierra, giving me just enough time to get ready for the fundraiser. I decided to go all out, curling my medium-length blond hair in sensual waves around my face and putting on a smoky nude eye shadow. I touched up my hair with some hairspray and then stood in front of my vanity to carefully apply my red lipstick before spraying on a rose-water facial mist.

  After alerting my driver by text, I gave myself a last glance in the mirror before putting on my favorite red dress with my black Louboutin stilettos. When I stepped outside my building, I found my car idling by the curb. I sighed and got into the back seat of my white M6 BMW Gran Coupé.

  Come on, Sage. Bring on the fake smile.

  2

  JACOB

  I walked into the ballroom, where the event was being held, with Ellie, Derrick’s wife, on my arm. She took a glass of champagne from the waiter’s tray and then followed me across the room as I beelined for the bar. I needed a hard scotch after the week I’d had at work.

  “So, who will be the lucky girl tonight?” Ellie teased between sips of champagne.

  I turned to face the room and scanned the crowd, looking for potential conquests, but so far nothing had turned up. My hand automatically went to my trouser pocket to make sure I had my condoms. I exhaled, relieved, when my fingers found the plastic packaging.

  Ellie laughed. “Jesus, Jacob. Aren’t you ever going to settle down?”

  I ignored her and kept my annoyance to myself, not wanting to offend my best friend’s wife.

  “Who knows?” I shrugged, sipping my scotch.

  She shook her head in disapproval. Before she could continue to interrogate me, however, Derrick appeared to fetch her.

  “Sorry,” he said to Ellie, nuzzling into her neck. “I had to take that call.”

  I made my exit, not wanting to intrude on the lovers’ reunion.

  “Mr. Storm!” a redheaded cougar, whose name I could never remember, called out, her husband, John, in hand.

  I stopped in my tracks.

  “Jacob, it’s good to see you,” John said.

  I shook his hand and returned the greeting. Then I politely said a vague hello to his wife. She stared at me, practically drooling.

  “Did you bring a date?” she asked, trying to be subtle.

  “No, not tonight,” I replied with a forced smile.

  “Not tonight?” She batted her eyelashes. “You mean not ever!”

  John laughed.

  “I’ve never seen you with a date,” his wife pressed on.

  John continued to laugh loudly, so I joined in.

  My apologies if I don’t find being pussy-whipped too appealing.

  “I can help with that,” the woman offered, touching my arm and flirting with me right in front of her husband.

  I slyly angled myself away. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive.” I said lightly.

  I had boundaries. Didn’t she know that her husband and I did business together from time to time? I always prioritized money over pussy, because without the former, you can’t always get the latter.

  I excused myself and got another scotch from the bar then continued my scan of the room.

  Not her, not her, not her.

  I was ready to give up for the evening. Every woman was either too fake or too willing. Or maybe I was just getting tired of this game.

  I caught a glimpse of an acquaintance of mine when I eyed a blond girl in a red dress. She was stunning. I froze, mesmerized, and watched as she talk
ed to some older man who couldn’t stop staring at her chest.

  Men.

  But, to be frank, I couldn’t blame him—she wasn’t wearing a bra. Hell, I could see her nipples from here.

  She was naturally tall, and her high heels only accentuated her long, tanned legs and slim physique.

  And those tits, though.

  She smiled warily at the old man.

  I dropped my drink on the counter and smoothed my jacket.

  Her. I wanted her for the night.

  3

  SAGE

  I was stuck talking to an old prick who kept staring at my chest like a pervert—though, truth be told, I was braless.

  Still.

  Desperate to get out of the situation, I began looking around for familiar faces, anyone who could save the day.

  That’s when I saw a very handsome black man wearing a purple dress shirt under his expensive suit jacket coming my way. I smiled when I recognized him. Derrick Davis, a friend of a girl I used to study with in college.

  “Sage,” Derrick called out, kissing me on both cheeks while cleverly putting himself between me and the perv. He introduced me to his wife, Ellie, a brunette with fair skin and brown eyes.

  “It’s been a while. How you been?” Derrick asked me with genuine interest. I had just begun to answer him when I got distracted by the most attractive man I’d ever seen walking right toward us.

  “Sage, this is Jacob,” Derrick said, introducing me to the newcomer.

  “Jacob Storm,” the man elaborated, looking directly at me.

  “Sage Cross,” I managed to reply.

  I shook his outstretched hand, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as he held on for a moment too long. Within a split second, I had my poker face back on.

  Ellie smiled at us, as if taking part in her own inside joke. Just as Derrick began some small talk, a pudgy man with a cane approached and began guiding Derrick and his wife away on some business related to an art museum, leaving me alone with Jacob.

  He just stared at me, saying nothing. I stared back at him, looking right into his eyes. They were so blue, so light, just like mine. Unlike me, his hair was jet black, and he had a five o’clock shadow that looked like it had been planned to perfection. Something about his good looks unnerved me.