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Knowing I need to do better, I murmur, “Forgive me!” as I hold a hand protectively in front of my mouth. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it does not,” he snarls. “This is not how I wanted our time together to begin, but since you asked, I will answer your question.” I’m almost afraid to watch as he opens the laptop on the desk, angling it, so the screen is facing me.
He taps away on the keyboard, and before I can ask what’s going on, Alec pops into view.
“Alec!” I cry.
“Yes, look at him. Watch how he is welcomed into my house.” Coming back to the bed, Luis places his hand on my forehead, effectively holding me in place.
My heart breaks as I look at Alec, who’s chained and spread like a human X. His wrists are restrained by chains from the ceiling, his feet by chains on the floor. His neck is bent, so his chin almost touches his chest. I don’t know whether he’s conscious or not. There’s no sound on the footage, so I can’t hear if he’s breathing.
I can’t contain my gasp as I take in the multitude of lacerations across his arms, legs, and chest. Some of them are still bleeding, while others look to have stopped. Fuck, how long have we been here?
As if reading my mind, Luis says, “Alec has not enjoyed my hospitality the same way you have for the past three days.”
Three days?
It’s been three days? What the hell have I been doing?
“But, I—”
“My darling Baby, it has indeed been three days. You have been in and out of it, mostly sleeping, since the doctor was here. I believe it was quite a shock to your alluring body, so I have let you rest and heal.”
I shudder at the thought of having been at his mercy while being at my weakest. “Can I… Can I see the others?” I whisper.
“Maybe after dinner, if you behave.” Luis bends down and softly places his lips on my cheek. A cheap imitation of a sweet and comforting gesture. “I want you to watch Alec until I return. If you do that, I will let you get dressed for dinner, and you will be allowed to see Coen and Kasper.” Then he leaves me, locking the door from the outside.
As soon as the door is shut, I close my eyes. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t bear watching Alec like that. My bodyguard, one of the three loves of my life, reduced to being someone’s punching bag.
I don’t know how long I lie on the bed. I don’t even know what time of the day it is or where we are. The black shutters on the windows make it so no light can penetrate and let me know whether it’s day or night. The longer I lie still with nothing to distract me, the more I feel the pain from my chest—internally, as I think about Coen, Kas, and Alec—as well as externally, the throbbing from my open wound hurts like a bitch.
“Open your eyes, darling Baby. This will be your one and only warning.” I don’t know where Luis’ voice is coming from, but it doesn’t matter. I now know I’m being watched, so I force my eyes open, looking back at the laptop screen.
It feels like only a few minutes pass before a door opens on the screen, letting in a stream of light. A hooded man walks toward Alec, and when he reaches him, he slaps him so hard across the cheek that the blindfold I can see now almost comes off. I cringe as Alec’s head snaps up, and I watch him struggle to lift his head. As his lips move, I wish I could hear what he’s saying. Judging by the smirk on his lips and the kick to his gut that follows, the hooded man isn’t amused.
My body trembles with pent-up anger, anguish, and sorrow as I watch the hooded man beat and cut into Alec. A warm feeling blooms in my chest, and at first, I assume it’s because of the burn, but when it tickles down my arms, I know it’s a feeling.
It’s hate.
I thought I hated Neil, but now I know better. What I felt for him wasn’t hate, at least not akin to what Luis has awoken in me. If he was in front of me and I had the opportunity, I’d carve his fucking eyeballs from their sockets and feed them to him.
Not only for what he’s done to me, for what he’s doing to Alec—for making me watch. For making me a silent witness to the brutality the hooded man is exuding on my man’s body. Each laceration to already marred skin feels like a punch to my heart—each slap, punch, or kick to his body has me biting down on my lip or cheek to swallow the sorrowful sounds building in my throat.
After what feels like an eternity, the screen goes black, and Luis’ voice comes through whatever speaker or intercom he’s using. “Now that you have enjoyed my show, it is time for dinner. The doctor and I will come by in two minutes and prepare you. You may move around if you wish to.”
Repressing the urge to retort, I carefully slide off the bed and look around the massive room. The walls are painted rose pink, and there are pictures of me all over. Some hang on the walls, and others are placed around the room’s surfaces—on the large white desk, the dresser, and the vanity table. Each picture is from Serendipity, taken of me performing for Luis in various outfits.
I recognize a few from our first year together, and the realization crushes something inside me. The knowledge that his obsession has been going on for years is overwhelming. Did I encourage this? Did I somehow lead him on by accepting his presents? No, I can’t have. I didn’t know, and he displayed no outward signs… Did he?
My heart is in my throat as I whirl around to the sound of the door being unlocked. “Here she is, Doctor.” I instinctively go to cross my arms over my exposed breasts, but the pain stops me. A low whimper escapes my pursed lips, and I let my arms down at my sides.
Refusing to cower, I square my shoulders and look at Luis with an arched brow. I can’t believe this. He won’t let me talk about anyone else, but he’s fine letting another man see me like this.
“Remember my instructions from earlier, Doctor,” Luis says as if he’s read my mind. “If I find you looking or touching for too long, you will pay with your life.”
Doctor M pales, averting his gaze before he mumbles, “I understand, but I can’t treat her without touching her.”
Luis harrumphs but says nothing else. He hovers, though. Making sure he can see everything M does, and when the doctor cleans the wound between my breasts, Luis clears his throat. “You can clean faster, no?”
