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"Welcome home, Mr. Booth."
I give a curt nod to the butler, Anders, who's been a part of the family since my father was born. Unlike some of the founding families, the Booths were born into money. My father grew up here, and Anders watched over him when he was a baby just like he watched over me. Oh, how things have changed since then.
"There are some messages waiting for you in the study," Anders goes on. "Your Armani suit has arrived, and we sent the usual arrangement to Miss... Lily Anna's memorial."
"Thank you," I mutter, shrugging off my school blazer as I walk into the house.
Anders takes it from me and carries it off to the closet. Walking upstairs, I groan, rubbing my aching temples before glancing at the notepad Anders left on my father's desk where all the messages are written. I read through the notes, relieved to find nothing too urgent needing my attention. I have my hands full today, even without the emergencies from my father's company.
Anders reappears, quietly placing another notepad on my desk and muttering, "Her requests for the day."
I grab the pad of paper and wade through three pages of notes written in her signature loopy handwriting. None of them should be too hard to trace down, but will any of them actually help her mood? The lists she's been giving me lately have been extensive and demanding, but there's been no visible improvement on her mood despite my best efforts.
I can feel Anders watching me, but I refuse to acknowledge it. He knows all my secrets, just like he did with my parents. But I trust him enough to know he'll never speak a word about what happens in the Booth mansion to anybody else.
I know some people think my decision to let go of most of the staff at Booth Mansion is a mistake, but I couldn't care less. It was necessary to make sure the secrets we have stay hidden. I can't afford for anyone to find out what's actually happening here.
"Are you going up to see her
?" Anders questions me as I put the pad down.
"Soon," I mutter, the mere idea filling me with dread.
I can't go up there yet. I can't handle her negativity right now. And I have other shit I need to take care of first.
"Would you like me to order the things from the list?" Anders ask next, and I nod at him.
"And her favorite flowers, too," I mutter.
"A dozen?"
"Two."
Anders makes a note of it, then disappears down the hallway, probably to take care of the orders I've just given him.
I'm left alone with my thoughts, my head swimming with all the things I've tried to push to the corner of my mind all day. Pandora is front and center in my thoughts. Her face appears in front of me and I close my eyes tightly, remembering the feeling of her skin beneath mine, the way she cried, the way she refused to break for us, despite the power we held over her.
I'm not sure why I'm so obsessed with the idea of making her submit to me, but it's all I can think about. She's so much different than Lily Anna. More innocent in a way, yet braver, stronger, more strong-willed. The differences between the two girls are stark, and I'm finding it hard not to resent Pandora for them. I'm finding it hard not to resent her at all, actually, since she's the reason my Lily Anna is gone.
Absent-mindedly, my hand goes to the bulge in my pants and I stroke my growing cock through the fabric of the school uniform. Pandora's face appears in front of me yet again, and I do my best to shut my mind off, to think of someone else. I can't think of Lily Anna. The memories are still raw even after all this time, my heart too fucking swelled up with pain to imagine the girl I used to love, the girl who is gone forever.
Instead, I try to picture Audra. She's always been ready and willing for me, unlike my new fiancée. I've tasted that sweet little pussy so many times the taste is permanently ingrained in my memory. If I think hard enough, I can almost taste her on my tongue now. But it's not what I want.
I push back the chair from my father's desk in frustration. My mind is swimming, my thoughts are jumbled. I refuse to let Pandora take over my mind, but the memory of her is succeeding in making me unable to think of anything, or anyone, else.
I power up the computer on my father's desk. The monitor flickers to life. It takes me three clicks to open the security camera in Pandora's room, and I wonder whether she knows about them. I’ve been toying with her since her first day at the Estate, when she broke that frame, and I had Belle replace it. I loved seeing Pandora’s shell-shocked expression when she saw it, back in one piece next to her bed.
I have a feeling she hasn't discovered the hidden lens yet. Good. I want to check up on her without her knowing about it first.
She's sitting at her vanity table, wearing a simple blue linen dress. Her eyes are zeroed in on her reflection, and she's holding her hair up this way and that, scrutinizing the girl in the mirror.
Anders reappears, hesitating before knocking on the door of my father's office. He doesn't usually disturb me without a good reason, and I know whatever he's about to tell me won't be something I'll be thrilled to hear. I close my eyes tightly, count to three, then turn to face him, closing the image of Pandora on the computer.
"Yes?" My voice is chilly and my patience is wearing thin.
"She's asking for you," Anders mutters apologetically. "She saw you coming home earlier."
He knows as well as I do I can't deal with her bullshit right now, but it seems like I don't really have a choice. I don't want her to throw another fit. She's still got the scars to show from the last one, when I refused to give in to her demands.
