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Henri dragged me back. Hooking his fingers into my collar, he pressed me against his legs. “Calm down.”
“Tell him not to hurt them.”
“Sweetling, do I look like the type of man who goes around murdering innocent people?”
I coughed.
I literally couldn’t breathe correctly.
“Is that a trick question?” I wanted to rub my eyes and wash my ears out. “You’re a trafficking psychopath.”
“No, no, no, my pet, I’m a trafficking connoisseur.” Glancing at the large pond-pool, watching a flittering emerald dragonfly, he said, “Besides, I have no need for your family. As long as you keep behaving like a good little jewel, I promise I won’t disrupt your loved ones’ lives any more than it already has been by losing you.”
Tears.
Hot, agonising tears.
I wanted to cry.
To wail.
But I swallowed them back.
I would never, ever, not a single droplet, ever, ever cry again.
I’d made the vow in the shower. I reaffirmed it now.
Never.
No matter what they did to me.
No matter how bad it got.
Henri would never drink my sorrow again because one day, I would be the one drinking his tears. I would find a way to make a grown man weep.
No, not just weep, sob.
And then I would walk away and leave him in the same pieces he’d left me.
Pinning my attention on Victor, I couldn’t control my sick, shaking rage.
Without a word, I raised my hand and gave him the finger.
He laughed, then clucked his tongue at Henri. “Tell me, how goes the obedience training? Not that well, by the looks of things. Remember the twelve levels of ownership?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Henri muttered, his fingers bruising my shoulder. “Something about ownership over her body, mind, pleasure, senses, impulses…”
“Submission, liberation, life, and soul.” Victor cupped his hands between spread legs. “It’s a long process but very rewarding when you feel every layer break.” Cocking his chin at me, he added, “You need to start on her lessons. I expect you to keep her in-line. I won’t have her disrupting my other jewels. Already, Peter has behaved much better since she’s been missing from the stable for a few days.”
My ribcage tightened, a wishbone stabbed into my heart. I wanted to ask about the others. Peter and Citra, Corine and Kirk. Sleep might have nullified everything, but now everything was far too sharp and real.
I want to see them.
“I have every intention of keeping her disciplined, Vic.” Henri’s grey gaze narrowed. “As long as you grant my request that she’s mine and only mine.”
Victor scowled. “Still making demands?”
“Still wanting what rightfully belongs to me.” He gathered my hair, letting the strands spill through his fingers. “We both know I saw her first. I think that accounts for something. After all, I’m here for life…if you’ll have me.”
Relaxing with a broad grin, Victor nodded. “I must admit, I’ve greatly enjoyed having you here so far. From the game of intrigue, the mystery of who you truly were, to the very enjoyable conversation with your brother.” He laughed. “I can’t tell you how much it tickles me that I have a Mercer in my home. And not just any Mercer but brother to the man who’s been a pain in my ass for decades.”
“I’m glad I turned out to be so entertaining.”
Victor sobered up. “Three days, mon ami. I’ve seen some of my guests crash for a couple of days—tiredness always seems to spring the hardest when we take off our masks—but three? Are you okay?” His eyes turned sly and seeking. “No regrets? No wishing you could leave and run home to your little family?”
Henri shuddered. “He isn’t my family.” Cupping my shoulder, he stroked his thumb in that mocking Morse code, soft and seducing, sending prickles down my back. “Ily is now my family. You are now my family.”
“In that case…this is the time to clear up the last remaining rules so we can begin fresh and enjoy ourselves, oui?”
“Oui.” Henri nodded. “I appreciate the time you gave us to rest and recuperate, but I’m ready to play.”
“Excellent.” Rubbing his hands together, Victor sucked in a breath. “My first question is…can your brother access the funds he gave you? Can he claw back what he deposited, or is that cash locked in your account?”
Henri flicked me a look. “It’s in my name. I gave him access to view the balance through an email statement but nothing else. Unless he commits forgery, it’s mine.”
“Perfect. In that case, I’m not in any rush for you to transfer the balance to me. Let’s agree that the day of your initiation is the day you pay me, fair?”
“My initiation?”
“You’re on probation. I’m open to giving you a lifetime membership and surprisingly amenable to the thought of you being a long-term guest. I’m aware if I sent you away, Q would kill you, so…for now, you have my blessing to stay indefinitely.”
