Caught By Two Doms (Club El Diablo (Angel's Doms Book 2)) by Holly S. Roberts

eyes.”
    Nothing cooperated, though she tried to mentally reach out to Sir’s voice. Her body moved, but she wasn’t sure how or why. She had no control.
    The loud smack penetrated her brain, though the sting barely registered.
    Again.
    And again.
    The strikes to the back of her upper thigh intensified until finally she wiggled, seeking relief from the hot, steady pain. Her eyelids managed to open and she saw Zachary… Sir.
    “We’re going downstairs to eat.”
    He lifted her from the bed and pulled her into his side.
    “Walk.”
    Each slow step brought reality into focus. Master was not coming home.
    Marguerite and Stephens waited. Angel had never seen Marguerite cry and the woman’s red, swollen eyes caused Angel to look away. Then she glanced at Stephens. He’d aged ten years, and his eyes frantically searched hers. It was too much, and she would have left the room if Sir wasn’t holding her.
    “Everyone sit.”
    The voice startled her from the fog that had closed in again. She sat where he put her and knew it was one of the chairs because, through the thin layer of her cotton dress, she felt the cool wood against her bottom. She couldn’t look at anyone and just glanced down at the white plate in front of her.
    “Monroe left each of you a personal letter.”
    She focused on Sir’s words and managed to look at him.
    “You need to read them privately after we eat. The news of his death will not be made public right away. Up until it is, our grief will remain completely private.”
    His eyes left hers and she watched as he glanced around the table.
    “Monroe considered you his family, and while we grieve there will be no hint of servant-master protocol. Somehow, we will get through this together.” Sir looked at the two people who were so much more than servants. “I expect you both at dinner each night, though I’ll leave breakfast and lunch to you. If you wish to join us, please do. Both Angel and I want you here, sitting beside us. There will be many trials over the coming weeks and we shall survive this as a family.”
    Marguerite’s quiet sobs barely penetrated Angel’s consciousness. She wasn’t sure how the woman’s hand got into hers, but she looked down and noticed the wrinkled skin slightly darker than her own. Angel squeezed and a steady returned pressure brought her further from the haze. Her breath shuddered within her chest and she automatically took the plate of cold cuts handed to her. She released Marguerite’s hand, took a serving, and then passed the platter to Sir.
    Another breath and she finally looked at Marguerite and then Stephens. Long before she entered their lives, they were Monroe’s family. She needed to be strong and make this easier on them. She took a bite of food.
    Glancing up at Sir, she noticed his facial muscles relax.
    They ate. Angel tasted nothing. Marguerite left the table and came back with a bowl of fruit. Angel nibbled, but left most of it on her plate. When Marguerite stood to clear the table, Sir stood and grabbed Stephens’ plate, then hers.
    “No, Señor.”
    Marguerite’s voice sounded frantic, but Sir ignored her. The men began gathering dishes. Angel followed their example while feeling nothing. They cleaned the kitchen together in silence.
    The letters were handed to each of them. She watched Marguerite walk slowly from the room clutching hers close, and then Stephens left. The single envelope in her shaking hands seemed unreal.
    Her name. So simply written, so final.
    Sir looked on and it gave her the strength to walk to the music room.
    The piano bench that had so often given her comfort offered none. The ivory and ebony keys didn’t pull her into their world even after lightly running her fingers across them. The joy of music—only one of many gifts given by Master. He drew her out of a world of horror she couldn’t face. He set her free, shared his love and family, giving her a reason to live. Then his greatest gift… Sir.
    Her breath