Controlling Assets

Shae Coon

Description

Caleb Marron was only eight-years-old when his mother was taken from him.


He watched, helpless and weak, as his father and uncle fought to bring her back home. Since that day, he vowed to protect the ones he loves at all cost.


Now grown and CEO of Marron House Technology, Caleb plans to destroy the legacy of anyone who hurt his family. That is until a roadblock in the form of a golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty named Talia Stone stands in his way.


Fascinated by the golden goddess, Caleb offers Talia a chance to achieve her dream on a silver platter, but at the cost of her submission. Will Talia accept Caleb's proposition? Will she be able to submit, or will her demons keep her from the pleasure Caleb promises?

Sujets

• Romance
• Romance érotique
• BD Erotique
• BDSM
• Erotica
• Bondage et discipline, domination et soumission et sado-masochisme
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
• Date de parution: 15 juillet 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781644502600
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Table o f Contents
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
The End
For His Own Protection
Prologue
Shae Coon




Controllin g Assets
Copyright © 2021 Shae Coon. All rights r eserved.

4 Horsemen Publicatio ns, Inc.
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Dunedin, FL 34698
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Editor by Nit a Edetor
Cover & Typeset by Battle Goddess Pro ductions
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is book is meant as a reference guide. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All brands, quotes, and cited work respectfully belongs to the original rights holders and bear no affiliation to the authors or pu blisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 20 21941359
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-644 50-261-7
Audio ISBN: 978-1-644 50-259-4
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-260-0


Prologue
Caleb
“ Then the robot launched itself into the air, catching the small device that held the secrets of the world. He tumbled to the floor with a loud clanging sound, and when he opened his hand to give the young boy the small drive, suddenly––” She closes the book. “To be c ontinued.”
“Oh, come on, Mom! You can’t stop there. Does the robot still have the thumb drive, or did it fall out of his hand when he fell?” We have just gotten to the good part, and Mom always stops right before the climax. It drives m e bonkers.
“I guess you’ll just have to wait until next time,” M om laughs.
My mom always knows how to make a story exciting, and even though I want to know what happens, I like how she builds the suspense. It makes the story even more fun when we come back to it the n ext night.
“Okay. I bet he still has it in his hand, but maybe it broke,” I say excitedly.
“Hey now, none of that. You may spoil it.” She stands, tucks the blankets tighter around me, and kisses my forehead. “Goodnight, buddy. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.” I snuggle farther into my blankets, but right before I doze off, I hear shuffling outside my do or. “Mom?”
When she doesn’t answer, I get out of bed and walk to my bedroom door but jump back when my door shakes, and I hear my mom scream. My heart starts going a hundred miles an hour, and I grab the doorknob to check on her, but it won’t open. I twist the knob again and again, but it wo n’t budge.
“Mom! Mom, are you okay? I can’t open the door!” I’m starting to sweat, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Caleb! Help! Please! Don’t let him take me!” I hear m y mom cry.
My hands begin to ache as I bang on the door over and over again, trying to get the bad man away from her. “Let her go! You can’t take her!” I scream as tears run dow n my face.
When I bang on the door one last time, it finally unlatches. I swing it open and run out of my room to find my mom. When I don’t see her in the loft, I run to the stairs and gasp when I see her being dragged down each step, and the thumping sound her body makes with each step makes me wince.
I can’t see who’s taking her, but I don’t care. I barrel down the stairs and pull on the man’s arm, but he’s too strong. He just laughs, throwing me off his arm like an annoying bug. Lifting myself from the floor, I scream as loud as I can and start to bang my fist on his back.
“You can’t take her! She’s my mom!” I feel like my skin is lava, and I want to hurt the man. I want him to die, even though mom wouldn’t like those thoughts. When my fists don’t hurt the man, I grab my mom’s legs and pull, but again he’s too strong, and he pulls her out of my hands.
“Caleb, you have to be stronger. You can’t save me if you’re not stronger.” My mom’s face turns white, and her e yes close.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry I’m not stronger. I’m sorry,” I cry, my head hanging in shame and my body shaking with my sobs. When I lift my head to watch my mom be taken from me, the man stops at the door and lo oks at me.
“You’ll never be able to save her, boy. Little boys are too weak to save anyone,” he sneers, “and by the way, I’ll be back for you r sister.”
“Caleb, honey. It’s okay, buddy.” My mom’s soft voice pulls me from the cloud of my nightmare, and I bolt upright in my bed. “Hey, I’m here, baby. I’m right here,” she soothes, and when I blink her face into focus, I leap into her arms and cry into her shoulder.
I know some of my friends would probably laugh at me for crying about a nightmare, but I don’t care. They didn’t have their moms taken away from them for over a month. They didn’t see their mom’s face bruised and blooded, and they didn’t feel too weak or too littl e to help.
As she strokes my back and hums in my ear, I hear a noise at my door an d whimper.
“Shh, baby, it’s just daddy.” She rocks my body side to side, and when I look at my dad, I can tell he’s sad. He’s sad because I’m hurting and scared, but he’s also sad because he lost mom too, and I don’t think he feels strong right now either. Even though he and uncle Kyle were the ones that saved her.
I bury my face in her neck and finally let everything out, “I’m sorry I’m too little. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” I choke on my tears. “I’m sorry I’m not strong enough.” I hear her sniffle, and when I look up at her face, I see her eyes are red, and tears flow down her face, and my heart h urts more.
I’m hurting her. I’m a bad son .
I want to apologize again, but she just squeezes me close and smiles down at me. “Oh, my little guy,” she sighs. “You are the strongest kid I know, and I’m not just saying that. I always thought you were strong, but when your dad told me how brave you were when I was gone, I was blown away. Caleb, baby, you and Lizzy gave me strength, so how could you not be strong enough yet still give me some of your strength? And don’t you ever doubt you didn’t help me because without you telling me you love me every night, I may have given up. Buddy, I know you’re a smart guy, and it may not seem possible, but I heard you every night.” She puts her hand on her chest over her heart, then places my hand over hers. “My heart would pinch, then feel like it was floating, and that’s when I knew you were talking to me.” She smiles, and I can’t help the goofy grin that crosse s my face.
“You really knew I was talkin g to you?”
“I really did, and your dad and Uncle Kyle may have been there in person and saved my physical self, but buddy, you saved my heart and soul.”
My eyes widen at her declaration, and suddenly I feel ready to take on any monster, any bad guy, anyone who tries to hurt my family. I hug her tighter, and in my eight-year-old mind, I promise to never let my family be hurt again. I will stand in front of any danger and fight because this is my family, and I will protect wh at’s mine.
1
Ten y ears later
“ Dad, come on. You know I’m not getting anything from being here. I’ve learned more by experimenting on my own than I have in the last two years I’ve been here. I’ve sat through hours of classes, and none of them have given me the skills needed to build the Cell-1 prototype. I did it. On. My. Own,” I protest.
My frustration begins to build—much like my dad’s at the fact that I want to quit MIT. My only saving grace is hearing my mom on the other side of the line, trying to calm him before he lay s into me.
My dad is a great man––one to be admired––but when it comes to me not finishing college? Let’s just say cooler heads don’t always prevail. We’ve had this conversation several times in the past two years, and with every excellent point I make, he just tells me finishing is what’s be st for me.
After I graduated high school at sixteen, I received a full ride to MIT. When most teenage boys were going to parties, feeling up girls, and drinking illegally, I was at home deconstructing and reconstructing various computers, cell phones, and any other piece of technology I could get my hands on.
I would either create something completely different, or I would work to improve upon an existing piece of technology. That’s how I came up with my latest cell technology that allowed the user to disable any type of IED within a one-mile radius. After my Uncle Kyle told me about all the men he lost to hidden IEDs, I knew I had to find a way to decrease that number for future soldiers.
I applied to some local tech showcases to present my invention, but I soon realized that not many people would allow a seventeen-year-old kid to even suggest he had such a device––MIT student or not. So, I decided to just focus on perfecting the technology. I tweaked it, snuck it in after-hours for testing, and made sure to put it up against various compounds, materials, and climates. All went off without a hitch––well, besides the stray shock here and there. My device could save hundreds if not thousands of lives. Not just in our military but in the already war-torn areas around the world, places others had to return to after their whole world was destroyed by the very thing I was trying to eliminate.
But I will never get it into circulation sitting at a desk while my