Vol.2 London Brown

Bond_eCove_London Brown # 4_200x300Bond (LONDON BROWN #4)

The philanthropist bonds her to him. One dark admission at a time.

He ceases the opportunity to once and for all seal her bond to him.

The socialite unravels more of the hidden mysteries behind the philanthropist façade and grows to fear how deep the bond has come to run.


“Let me go.”

I released her to slowly wedging her between the wall and myself. “Not an option.”

She stopped. “I need to be admitted.”

“Absolutely not.” Within, I drew further away as though I watched rather than participated in our discussion.

“Yes.” She crossed her arms, clinging to the coat and leaned against the wall.

I shook my head. “No.” There was no possible way I’d allow it.

The skin beneath her eyes had swollen from crying.

“Why not?” She formed a pout.

Over my studies, I’d come across a number of psychiatrists, but there was only one I could think of to ask for advice in this situation. “Not unless I can trust the person you are in the care of.”

“It’s not up to you,” she sniffled.

“Yes, it is,” I said.

She shook her head with her gaze cast down. A sign of her resolve fading.


“Please, Rhys. I need this. It’s for the best,” she pleaded.

From now on, I would determine that. I picked her up and swung her over my shoulder.

“Oh, my God!” She squealed.

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The philanthropist opens her eyes to what lies ahead. The painful yet bliss future.

Though he fear the consequences of her facing the monster within him he slides open the door just a sliver for her to see.

In awe of his openness the socialite descends deeper into his illicit needs of her.


“How much trouble am I in?” she asked.

Her question caused me to smile despite the fact that I lacked amusement. Today was not going as I’d pictured.

“None. Unless–”

“I don’t understand.” She had a bad habit of interrupting me.

“Keep cutting me off mid-sentence and you’ll be over my knee.” I met her gaze. “Back to what I was about to say, unless you broke a rule, expectation, or privilege?” Before she even agreed to the arrangement I was holding her accountable to the content outlined within.

She sighed. “I don’t know.” A well of tears formed in her eyes.

I preferred being the cause than Caden, which likely made me a heartless bastard. “I know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She raised her voice.

“You left me.” An accounting of her actions was in order. “But followed my instruction not to go to your flat. You didn’t protest when I said I would come get you. When I arrived, you came to me. Now you are unsure if you should have left with me.”

She exhaled harshly.

I frowned at her reaction. “Yes, I’m acutely aware that there is a general lack of certainty for you about us right now. This isn’t the first time you’ve wavered on a decision. Let’s see, there was the going back to school after you released yourself from the hospital, moving out of your father’s house, and the purchase of your flat. Shall I go on?”

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At a loss, the philanthropist tries to regain his footing. The darkness within widens consuming all in its path.

Loss of his grip causes him to slip, a slight miscalculation with dire repercussions.

The socialite holds on despite the widening sea between her and the philanthropist she once thought she knew. In an instant all might be lost.


“Do you know what scares me about your relationship with Desniah?”

I wasn’t sure there was a question in there, or if I was about to be lectured to.

I shrugged, trying to detach from his attempts to provoke anger in me without going into the cold place where he claimed my eyes went vacant.

“I know you believe I disapprove of Desniah because of her age, her father’s politics, her hospitalisation or any number of Desniah reasons. It isn’t her. It has never been her. It’s you.” He pointed at me with his index finger sharply. “I don’t like you when you’re with her. You’re obsessed, out of balance, fixated, and downright chaotic.”

I couldn’t deny it. There was little to say about it that wouldn’t further prove my guilt.

“I fear the way you look at her and that this will end very badly for you both.” He rubbed his forehead.

Because it, had to end at some point. No way could it be that we would work it out, be good for each other. That she would provide me with what I needed and I would do the same. The truth my father didn’t understand was that the bad ending was mine alone to live, not hers. I would not allow my needs to come before her.

My patience was limited so I decided it best to skip anymore of my father’s accusations and go straight to the truth.

Vol2_London Brown_eCove_200x300

Vol.2 (LONDON BROWN #6.5) (Includes Bond, Open, and Loss)

A labyrinth littered with luxury, lies, lust, lewdness, and loathing awaits…

In the opulent setting of London’s aristocracy, lives a young woman fractured into two distinct individuals, one face with multiple facets.

One façade, the whore, London Brown, who will confess unfathomable truths, the other, a loving daughter the socialite, Desniah Williams will pull back the curtain to reveal what lurks in the shadows.

Caden Jacob Carrington V, a politician will do anything to reclaim the woman he lost, including dredging up pains of the past.

Rhys Christos Edward Stowell, a philanthropist will fight to win the woman he loves while baring the darkness of his soul.


“Do have any idea of how terrifying that sounds?”

“Yes.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “However I will always protect what is mine.”

“That’s not how most people conduct relationships.”

“We aren’t most people.” I hovered my lips just above hers.  The warmth from her sparked against me. “You need to pay. And I need for you to need it. You need me to make you pay. And I need you to need me to make you pay.”

Eyes filled with tears, she stared up at me.

“I refuse to live a lie. Not with you. This, you and I, allows us both to exist in light, not darkness. You want me to taint what we will be with falsehood and deception as though you are doing this for me.” Even just the thought of me forcing her to endure ailed me physically.  Cheapening how deeply I loved her. “Don’t try to pretend this isn’t exactly what we both require. Make what we share a game, one where we make-believe, it’s for me alone. You need this as badly as I do. Don’t treat what we share like something we should be ashamed of.” I ran my thumb along her bottom lip. “I will provide for you in every way, but you, in turn, must accept that those darker aspects we will share are what you thrive from.”

She opened her mouth. Whether she knew or not, her body gave all the responses she feared to. The access, she was afraid to. Every part of her was mine. Even before she was able to admit it.

“I shouldn’t want to do it.”


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