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“Ah, Peter.” Victor ran a hand over his mouth. “Will you ever stop trying to take the blame?”
Peter hunched lower.
Ily inched closer, pressing her naked thigh to his linen-covered one.
A flare of annoyance cut through me. I put down my baguette before I throttled it.
A stagnant pause before Victor quit his pacing and faced his row of bruised and obedient jewels.
For the first time, I noticed some of them were missing a few pieces.
A finger, an ear…
My heart stung for a moment, then went quiet.
Butchering people wasn’t on my list of proclivities, but I had no morality left to judge those who did.
“You know lying never works because I see all things.” He tossed a smirk over his shoulder, looking directly at me.
My instincts prickled.
What the fuck was that?
Looking back at his slaves, Victor added, “The skin sandwich I can tolerate. Everyone needs some comfort once in a while, and I’m not such a harsh Master to deny you a platonic hug every now and again. However…” His voice grew icicles. “I saw a kiss that shouldn’t have happened, and my guests were inconvenienced by all of you being late.” He tapped his Rolex. “Twenty-three minutes late to be exact.” He sighed dramatically. “Whatever shall I do with you?”
Marching to my side, Victor placed a hand on my shoulder. “Henri, you decide. After all, the kiss involved the jewel you paid so handsomely for.”
“Excuse me?” My voice darkened. “Ily kissed someone?”
Her chin tipped up, defiant or just despairing…I couldn’t tell.
Our eyes met for the first time since I’d sunk inside her last night.
I waited all over again for some shred of the idiotic tosser I’d been. For crushes and obsessions to pounce.
But my head remained clear.
She belonged to me. Her every breath, touch, kiss, and fuck was mine.
So who the hell dared to steal one?
Standing slowly, I narrowed my eyes on Peter.
“You.” I stalked toward the edge of the deck. “I told you last night what would happen if you ever touched her.”
Other guests settled deeper into their chairs, sipping coffees and biting into berry muffins. Silence fell in the gardens. Even the birdsong and happy crickets quietened.
Peter kept his eyes on the grass.
The same grass where I’d finally sunk into the epiphany that I was free.
Flexing my hands, punishments collided in my head.
A whipping might be apt.
Castration was probably going too far.
Slipping my hand into my pocket, I fingered the black device that brought such swift discipline. Pulling it out, I let all the jewels see what rested in my palm. As expected, a few whimpers rang out, followed by an entire line-up stiffening into stone.
Ily dared to press closer to Peter, fucking me right off.
Spinning on the spot, I raised the electrocution remote. “Is this what you had in mind for discipline, Vic?”
Victor chuckled and sat in the very same chair I’d vacated.
Very delicately, he pushed aside my half-eaten breakfast and folded his hands in his lap. The way he moved reminded me of a cat about to kill something. The way he watched me said I was his prey.
Which didn’t make a shred of fucking sense.
I frowned as Victor watched two black-suited guards roll out a narrow table with a large flatscreen on it. Once it was in prime position on the deck, he nodded his thanks as a retreating guard placed a remote control beside my abandoned coffee cup.
Picking it up, Victor stroked it like it was a pet anaconda. “I’ll answer your little question in a moment, Ward, but first…indulge me in some of mine.”
I didn’t like the way he stressed my last name.
I didn’t like that he smiled at me the same way he smiled at his godforsaken jewels.
The old me would’ve broken into icy sweat by now.
The new and improved me just stood there.
Bold and careless.
Crossing my arms, I tipped my chin. “Got something on your mind, Victor?”
“I do actually. Allow me to show you.” Angling the remote at the TV, he clicked it on and revealed a scene that felt like foggy déjà vu.
Drifting a little closer to the screen so the sun glare didn’t obscure details, I frowned at the still image of my arms wrapped tight around Ily, my mouth pressed to the corner of her eye, her naked body draped over my lap on the busy acorn-motif carpet of the library.
That felt like decades ago.
My heart skipped then settled. “You’re interrogating me on transgressions I’ve already explained?”
Victor pursed his lips. “Just indulge me for a few minutes, mon ami. I’m aware you said your fetishes include tears and whispers.”
A few guests snickered around the deck.
The jewels behind me stayed eerily silent.
“Amongst my top five, yes. But you already asked what I was doing when you came to find us. And I told you.”
Funny, the thought of whispering to Ily now leaned toward telling her exactly what I wanted, rather than doing my useless best to save her. I no longer wanted to whisper for her to play along but to truly confess that her blood made me throb and her tears made me ravenous to break her.
