The count a dark romance.., p.1
The Count: A Dark Romance (Stalked by a Monster), page 1
THE COUNT
STALKED BY A MONSTER, BOOK THREE
SARA FIELDS
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About Sara Fields
Books of the Kept as His Series
Mafia and Billionaire Romances by Sara Fields
Books of the Wolf Kings Series
Books of the Alpha Brotherhood Series
Books of the Omegaborn Trilogy
Books of the Vakarran Captives Series
Sci-Fi and Paranormal Romances by Sara Fields
Afterword
Copyright © 2022 by Stormy Night Publications and Sara Fields
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Fields, Sara
The Count
Cover Design by Deranged Doctor
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
PROLOGUE
COUNT DMITRI ALUCARD
I never much liked coming into London, but business was business. A longtime acquaintance of mine and my family, Dorian Gray, had alluded to a proposition that I couldn’t turn away from, so I made the journey from my home in Edinburgh to the rather drab streets of London. Gone were the tall trees and brilliantly colored flowers blooming in the gardens of my family estate, replaced by the concrete jungle that was the capital of England.
The things I had to do to make money.
I looked out the window, losing myself in all the shades of gray. The sky was covered in clouds, the constant threat of rain always upon us.
My eyes flicked to a street sign. Malet Street. We were driving through the University of London campus.
I allowed myself to enjoy the impressive architecture of each of the buildings along the side of the road. The school had been founded in the mid-1800s and they had done much to keep the grandeur of the original construction. I squinted up toward the cloud cover, blinking several times as the sun broke through the thick haze. When I couldn’t bear the bright light any longer, I looked out the window and that’s when I saw a sight that would change my world forever.
Her.
Like an angel fallen from heaven.
From the moment I first laid eyes on Jasmina Harker, I knew she was mine. I didn’t know her name back then, but it didn’t matter. I’d find it. I wouldn’t stop until I did.
The sun streamed down from the break in the clouds, almost like a spotlight. She was with a friend, but I didn’t even glance at her long enough to notice her hair or eye color or even what she was wearing.
Jasmina became my entire focus.
Dark mahogany curls cascaded down her back, bouncing with every single step. I wanted to grasp it in my fist. I wanted to hear her quiet mewls of pain when I pulled it tight. Her pale skin practically glittered in the sunlight. It would mark so beautifully from nothing more than my hand. She laughed and threw her head back, her radiant smile holding me completely captive.
I rolled down my window, needing to see better.
Her richly colored caramel irises sparkled as she glanced over her shoulder, seemingly looking straight at me and directly into my soul.
It felt like destiny. In my heart, I knew that one day she would be mine.
She looked back toward the university building and jogged up the stairs, grabbing at her friend’s wrist and pulling her along.
I would see her again. I was sure of it.
I also knew that one day I would make her my wife.
I spent the rest of that drive thinking about her, not even noticing when we passed by St. James Street and drove into Piccadilly Square. I pursed my lips, immediately displeased by the choice in location for this introduction that Dorian had arranged for me. There was a homeless man on the corner pushing a cart, trying to escape the endless stream of tourists strolling up and down the sidewalks. When the car finally drew up in front of Barrington’s, I cringed a bit.
It was a public gentlemen’s club that was trying in some form to be like the much more magnificent private gentlemen’s clubs here in London, but they weren’t doing a good job, not even remotely.
With a sigh, I climbed out of the car. I looked around for a moment, adjusting my tie while I took in the seedy ambience of the entire place. My bodyguard climbed out of the passenger seat. In his hands were the funds to acquire a new product, all discreetly hidden in a black briefcase.
It was time to meet Edward Hyde.
Dorian had informed me that an acquaintance of his had provided several of my more lower-class colleagues with copious amounts of high-quality benzoylecgonine. When I had inquired if he had anything more exclusive than that, Dorian had arranged an in-person meeting. From the information I’d gathered beforehand, Hyde was a struggling university research scientist on a budget, but he was smart and inventive. I’d only gotten bits and pieces since then, but the drug he’d alluded to seemed especially promising.
If this turned out to be everything that I thought it might be, my clientele would be very, very pleased to pay whatever amount I asked for it.
I liked making money. I didn’t much care if it was done legally or illegally.
I walked in the door, nodding to the front desk attendant. I didn’t check in and she didn’t stop me. This place already knew my name.
I strode through the hall into the back room. There was a full bar and to the undiscerning eye, it would have appeared grand, but I saw through that façade. The wood was scratched in places, deep gouges that spoke to the kind of client they entertained here on occasion. It was unpolished. I could see a thick layer of dust on the upper shelves that would have never been allowed in the type of clubs I would have preferred to frequent.
This place wasn’t my choice though. It was Hyde’s.
Off to the side, I saw Dorian. His suit was decadent among the rest of the rather mundane off-the-rack polyester suits that were in the room with us. He was sipping a glass of wine. Knowing him, it was probably an impeccable vintage. I wouldn’t make the mistake of asking him about it. I didn’t have time for the full explanation today.
Beside him was another man in a tailored suit coat. He was sipping a glass of bourbon. He met my gaze with a confidence I didn’t expect from a man like him. Most people were afraid to look me directly in the eye.
I took a seat beside them, cocking my head and appraising them both.
“Interesting location,” I said, raising my eyebrow and sitting back in the upholstered chair along with them. At the very least, the chair was comfortable. I’d give them that.
“Hyde likes the ambiance.” Dorian gestured between us. “The Count, meet Mr. Edward Hyde. Hyde, meet The Count.”
I nodded in Hyde’s direction. He returned the gesture, lifting his drink in greeting. An attendant came by, offering a drink and I waved him away. I didn’t have time for this. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees.
“I have other meetings this evening, gentlemen. Shall we get straight to business?” I asked impatiently.
Dorian smirked and rose beside me. “Introductions having been made, I hope you will both excuse me. I have a more pressing engagement.” Dorian bowed his head politely, but I knew enough about him to see that familiar spark in his eye. He had a reputation here in the city. Some would call it a disreputable one, but not me. He just knew how to use his money and use it well.
Dorian leaned against my chair.
“Can I trust him?” I asked, keeping my voice under my breath so that Hyde could not hear.
“Maybe, but where would be the fun in that?” Dorian grinned.
“Perhaps. Thank you for the introduction. Enjoy your rather pressing engagement,” I smirked.
“I plan on it,” he smiled. I watched him leave the room, wondering what sort of trouble he’d gotten himself into this time. Finally, I turned my gaze back to Hyde.
“You have what I came for?” I asked pointedly.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a vial full of thick dark crimson liquid and a single piece of paper. I glanced at them both longingly before meeting his gaze once more.
“Business before pleasure,” he grinned.
A man after his wallet. I could respect that. I had barely raised my hand before my bodyguard scurried to my side and presented the briefcase, opening it slowly and showcasing the stacks of pound notes neatly wrapped inside it.
My staff was well trained.
“One million, as agreed,” I offered.
“And now to the pleasure,” he beamed, passing the vial and paper to me. I took them both eagerly. I angled the sheet of paper into the light, scanning over the detailed formula with interest.
Yes. This was exactly what I was looking for.
“What is it called?” I asked.
“Bl88dX.”
With a name that unique, there was no doubt in my mind that he was a scientist after all. On the open ma
“Fitting. And the results?” I questioned.
He drained his glass of bourbon and stood up. His chest rose and fell and for just a moment, I was left with the distinct impression of a monster trying to break free of his cage, but then he buttoned his suit jacket and took the handle of the briefcase into his fist. He gripped the handle a bit too tightly, and I saw the whites of his knuckles in the process.
I knew instinctually that he wasn’t used to that kind of money. He met my gaze and he smiled, his entire expression going dark.
“Let’s just say anyone who takes it will feel like a different person.”
I closed my fist around the vial.
Very good.
CHAPTER 1
JASMINA HARKER
A dove flittered by the window of the train, its pure white feathers a picture of innocence among all the smoke and grit of the station. The quiet rumble of the engines starting up made me jump. I pressed my hand over my heart, closing my eyes as I tried to shake off this strange feeling in my chest.
I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous. This was just a normal work trip. If anything, it was the chance of a lifetime.
I’d only just gotten my real estate license a year ago. Through some miracle, a massive firm hired me and took me under their wing, teaching me the ropes even though I struggled meeting their quota from time to time. I wasn’t bad at my job, but I wasn’t extraordinary by any means. I told myself I could learn, and each day I was getting a little better. Then, early last week, my boss had called me into his office.
I spent the whole morning stressing about my progress, that I wasn’t fast enough or personable enough, that I hadn’t listed and sold enough properties to be worthy of working at the firm. Much to my surprise, however, he’d called me in because I had been specially requested by their biggest and most respected client.
Around the office, the client simply went by the nickname ‘The Count.’ His full name was Dmitri Alucard, but through some historical event, he carried the title of count. Rumor had it an ancestor of his had been a political ally of Henry VIII and had been granted not only titles, lands, and money, but the use of his many wives too.
He was a real estate tycoon with more money than anyone on our client list by far. Honestly, he was probably richer than ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the world. He bought and sold properties like it was going out of style. For as long as I worked there, there wasn’t a week that went by without him buying and selling a new mansion, house, or plots of land.
And he wanted me.
My boss thought he was thinking of selling his fifteen-hundred-acre estate just outside of Edinburgh. The count had personally requested me. Not only that, but he’d arranged and paid for the trip without even knowing if I would say yes.
To be honest, saying no wasn’t even an option.
If I could land this listing, I would be something at this firm. I could grow, maybe even get a promotion. It was only the beginning and who knew where my career would go after this. The possibilities were endless, and I would not, could not pass that up.
So here I was, sitting in my own personal private suite on the most expensive train in the country about to take the ten-hour trip from London to Edinburgh. I glanced out the window at the stormy clouds. Several fat drops bounced off the glass and I sighed in relief.
Made it inside just in time.
The train started to chug away from the busy station. Outside my window, one man lifted his suitcase to block the rain, dashing under the overhang as the sky started to open up. Pouring rain sluiced across my window and everyone still standing outside raced as fast as they could to take cover. A loud crack of thunder broke overhead.
A second later, a bolt of lightning hit the metal on top of the station roof, lighting up the night like it was the middle of the day. When it faded, it somehow turned so pitch black that even shadows ran from sight.
Feeling uneasy, I stood up and pulled the red velvet curtains closed with a shiver. Storms had always made me feel unsettled. There was something about the wildness of them that scared me, and I’d never been able to shake it.
With a deep breath, I settled back onto the plush bench seat. The velvet lining matched that of the curtains. There was a television in the corner and a single bed opposite me that was covered in luxurious fabrics that emanated first class.
I’d never been in anything like it. The level of detail was so incredibly ornate. Every wooden surface was carved beautifully, probably by hand. The fabrics and pillows were elegant and luxuriously soft. The sheets on the bed probably cost more than I made in a week.
I felt like I should be doing things that rich people do, but to be honest, I didn’t know what those were. There was a chilled bottle of champagne on ice situated on a small table alongside an extravagant charcuterie board loaded with various meats, fruits, and cheeses. There was a bowl of caviar, a small container of honey, and a few different condiments that I couldn’t quite identify by sight.
My stomach rumbled.
I got up and picked up the bottle, noticing it was already uncorked. I poured myself a small glass and popped three ripe raspberries into it. I took a sip and moaned.
That was definitely top shelf.
I poked around at the food, eating my fill and luxuriating in every jaw-dropping delectable bite. I didn’t even want to hazard at what such a spread would cost.
The count had said he’d take care of my every need. If he wasn’t supposed to be a business associate, I might have thought it romantic in an old-fashioned way.
The storm raged on outside and I wanted nothing more than to settle into the comfort and safety of the far too comfortable-looking bed. I hastily changed into my pajamas, feeling as though someone was watching even though I was all by myself. With a shiver, I jumped into bed and grabbed the cabin controlling tablet off the nightstand. I toggled it on, dimming the lights a bit and turning on the television in hopes of drowning out the storm outside. I didn’t turn it up too loud, not sure how noise would travel in the train car.
I didn’t want to get a knock on my door after disturbing the neighbors.
I sipped my drink nervously. I filled it once more as I flipped through the movie options, settling on a silly comedy I’d seen once before in hopes of lightening my mood. It didn’t really work, but soon enough the hour grew late, and my body finally decided to grow tired. I dimmed the lights even further, setting my glass aside for the night and curling up with the hope of getting some sleep.
It was a fool’s hope.
The lightning outside kept flashing so bright I could see it even though my eyes were closed.
The thunder was so loud that it made my heart stop with every rumbling crack.
The rain couldn’t seem to choose which direction to fall and kept pelting the window so hard that I thought it would break.
The gusts of wind outside howled noisily, rocking the train this way and that while we propelled down the tracks.
I don’t know when I fell asleep. Honestly, I don’t know if I really did. The rocking of the train faded away and suddenly I was on a ship somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, rocking back and forth, but that wasn’t the worst of it.
There was no one else on that ship. No one at the helm. No one minding the sails or anything. I was completely alone, and a storm was breaking overhead.
The rain pelted down on my skull, icy cold droplets rolling down my back and I shivered.
Bright yellow eyes leveled with mine, sharp and intent. I swallowed, realizing for the first time that I was tied to the mast. I struggled, pulling my arms back and forth as I tried to break free. The eyes drew closer and closer. The predatory gaze never left mine.
