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“It means I’m not letting you control my life,” I bite out. His eyes flick to the burner in my hand.
“But you’re letting him do it.”
I cock my head to the side with a confidence that I don’t feel. “You know what? That’s none of your business.”
I yank my wrist from his clasp and stumble awkwardly over his feet as I wrestle my way out of the cramped space at our table. He does nothing to make my job easier. He doesn’t move at all, even though his eyes follow me like shadows.
Damn it, everyone is staring like this is fucking Netflix. I square my shoulders and push a few loose strands of hair from my face as I prance away, holding on to my dignity for dear life.
I’m surprised Micah doesn’t try to follow me. Damn him and the way he claimed ownership over me in front of everyone—not just the Kings or the girls, but everybody in the cafeteria. The news will spread like wildfire in a matter of hours. I don’t even want to think about the gossip.
Which renders it impossible for me to focus on preparing for my next course in the next couple of hours. No matter how hard I try, I can’t gather my wits. I don’t think I’ve had them properly about me since Micah trapped me against my apartment door.
It doesn’t help that my small, book-stuffed office in the turret is where he took my mouth last night and made me pleasure myself in front of his camera. There’s no sign of him returning and ransacking this place after I left, but I can somehow tell he was here. The space is full of him, of his scent, of his presence, as if he left a part of himself here.
“Fuck this!” I shove everything angrily off the desk, then push my chair back and walk to the window, my eyes falling on the driveway where I met Romano last night.
This is where he must have spied from as he decided to ruin me. I hug myself as I imagine those eyes watching me get into Romano’s car, the lights inside turning on until I closed the car door behind me. But Micah has sharp vision. I can imagine those animal irises adjusting to the night, and making out the outline of Romano’s hand around the nape of my neck. For what he couldn’t see, Micah’s mind filled in the blanks.
But that means he was here, in the turret all along. Waiting outside my door even before I went out. Stalking me.
I push away from the window, not sure how I feel about that—does it spook me? Or does it exhilarate me?
I turn to the bookcase, my eyes running over the titles carved into the old spines. My eyes stop on Jean de la Fontaine. A moment later, my fingers are hooking the book from the shelf, seeking the comfort French philosophy has always given me.
I open the book at a random page. I’ve been secretly doing this since middle school, looking for guidance from great minds. They were all I had. The only wise adults in my life. I thought I’d stop needing foreign genius once I put the shit storm that was my teen years behind me, but apparently they’re striking back with a vengeance.
So, here I am, crawling back to de la Fontaine with my tail between my legs.
A person often meets their destiny on the road they took to avoid it.
I snap the book shut.
Really? Destiny?
I curse myself innerly for my childishness, and return to preparing for the course. I have less than an hour to go, and I really need to focus instead of performing childish rituals, but I can’t help glancing at the door every other minute. Expecting him to walk in, or even to already be standing there, leaning against the wall. I know his sick skills can make that happen.
There’s no way he’ll let me get away with what I did in the cafeteria. Now that the adrenaline of the moment has subsided, I’m starting to think about the consequences—because there will be consequences. I’ve experienced enough of Micah Royales to know how ruthless he is. His punishment for what I did is going to hit like a fucking truck, and I might as well brace for it. But as long as he doesn’t ambush me in my office, I’ll use the opportunity to call Romano one last time.
I grab the burner from where I slipped it into the upper drawer, and hit call. Romano picks up immediately.
“The burner has been compromised,” I say in a hushed voice, eyes fixed on the door. “Your son got hold of it last night.”
He breathes heavily into the device before he demands, “How?”
“I can’t explain over the fucking phone,” I whisper-scream, losing my patience. “We’ll have to find another way to communicate because he intends to monitor me constantly.”
“Well, that doesn’t bode well for you at all, Eva.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I push through my teeth, eyes on the door.
“It means that if you don’t find a way to get him off your pretty ass, I’ll find it for you.” A sadistic cool takes over his voice. “You know what’s at stake.”
“Listen, you old pervert,” I hiss at him, the adrenaline seriously fucking with my head. “You do that and I swear to fuck the last thing I do before I go down is tell your stepsons what you’re up to. And don’t even think about taking me out before that happens, because Micah has just declared that he’ll be monitoring me at all times. Which is why this is the last time we can even communicate over this fucking burner.”
He chuckles into the phone. “Seems like I’m not the only old pervert between the two of us. You’re not much older than my dear stepson, but you are his senior, and a professor at that. Yet there you are, drooling after his dick.” His mocking chuckle fills the pause. “No point even trying to deny it, Eva. You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to you sucking me off and thinking of him. I’d be game for that.”
My mouth curls. I don’t bite into his bait, but the worm is inside now.
