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7ElenaIt takes me a while to mentally recover from the shower I took with him stood watching me. It was intense, to say the least. Julian is like a ticking time bomb. I don’t know what to expect from him. Is he going to show me compassion? Or is he going to hurt me? All I know is that I can’t trust anything he does or says, and yet every aspect of my life now forces me to rely on his guidance.
My thoughts twist and turn, the silence within the room is all-encompassing. I feel on edge like he’s going to burst through the door any moment now, finishing what he started this morning.
That thought makes me realize that I’m still naked. The only thing covering me is the towel wrapped around my body. I need to find something to wear.
He didn’t seem to care that I wore his shirt last night, which has me going back into the closet a little less fearful today. I look through the shirts, running my fingers over the fabric.
At the end of the rack, I discover another completely full rack, but with women’s clothes on it.
Baffled, I look through the clothes that range from formal dresses to workout attire. There is an article of clothing for every occasion here.
I pause, unsure what to think. There isn’t any way that he bought all this stuff for me, is there? Maybe another woman lived here before me, and this is her clothing? Maybe he bought it for her, and now he’s handing it down to me. Grabbing a dress from the rack, I look at the size and almost drop it—size four. There are a lot of women who wear a size four, but what are the chances that his previous girlfriend is the same size as me?
He bought all of this… for you.
It takes me a moment to get myself together. I’m shocked. After a moment, I look through the clothes once more, trying to find the least attractive outfit. Something that will hide my hips and chest. Plucking a T-shirt off a hanger, and a pair of loose-fitting yoga pants, I hope that I’ve chosen the least sexy combination available. I don’t want to draw his attention, I want to lose it entirely.
Going through a couple of drawers, I find bras and panties that are in my size and all matching. My fingers trail over the lacy items. There are red, pink, blue, and black. I go with the white bra and panties because they’re the most boring out of the bunch. Not that Julian is going to see me in them.
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Dropping the towel, I get dressed in a flurry, hating how creepily well the clothing fits me. Tugging on the shirt, it’s not really form-fitting, but it’s not baggy like I would’ve liked it to be. Whatever it’s better than a dress.
Fully dressed, I feel a little less exposed, and I walk out of the closet peeking around the corner, wondering if he’s going to pop out of nowhere. Slowly, I walk to the bed and sit on the edge of it, wishing I was at home with my father, or really anywhere but here.
Now that the initial shock of last night has passed, and I’ve had time to gather my thoughts, I remember where I’d heard the name Julian Moretti before. My father always tried to keep me sheltered, but he couldn’t keep everything from me. I’d overheard him talk about Julian, how he was taking over his family business, using methods that others didn’t approve of. I didn’t even want to know what those methods were.
Time moves slowly when you’re confined, what could only be a matter of an hour feels like twenty or more. The sound of footsteps outside the door has me lurching off the bed. Clenching my hands into fists, I force my gaze toward the door, watching as the brass knob twists slowly, and a woman in a maid’s outfit walks in.
The air in my lungs stills, and I let out a huge breath when she brings in a tray of food and sets it down on the edge of the table. I don’t even think as I rush toward her, grabbing onto her arm, hoping there is a piece of her that isn’t corrupted.
“Please, help me. I’m trapped here, and he’s going to hurt me.”
The maid doesn’t even look up or acknowledge that I’m here. Tugging her arm from my grasp, she moves back toward the door, and my hopes once again come crashing back down. I consider rushing her and pushing out of the room, but I don’t want to face Julian’s wrath. I don’t doubt for a second that he would punish me, so I decide against doing that and watch helplessly as she walks out of the room, the door closing, and the lock clicking back into place.
