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Is it fucked up to find him beautiful…?
Yes!
I shouldn’t be thinking that about a man who claims his intentions are to ruin me, but I’m convinced the combination of golden-brown skin, with his sharp, handsome features and dark eyes, would have any woman on her knees. His facial hair is neat and blends perfectly into his freshly-trimmed dark hair. I hadn’t realized when he was choking me with them, but his fingers have tattoos on them— Roman numerals from what I can make out. I almost wish I’d spent more attention in class when I had the luxury of school so I could know what they meant.
His body language suggests that he’s tense. His leather shoes tapping against the soft carpet beneath them, and the hand he has resting on his knee is stiff.
“I told you to drink,” he snaps, his eyes still staring out the window. I’ve been starving for days. I can’t remember the last time I was offered water, yet I’d forgotten about the bottle on my lap while taking him in.
My fingers shake as I unscrew the lid, doing as he demands, and the cool refreshing water takes the sting out of my throat as I drink it down.
My thighs are sticking to the leather seats, and my palms are sweating. There’s so much I want to ask him, but I’m afraid. And if I speak, he’ll hear all that fear in my voice.
I’ve worked too hard at being strong to permit him that.
He doesn’t speak to me for the rest of the journey. In fact, he doesn’t do anything except glance at me occasionally. He seems different from how he was in the basement, less controlled and less confident, but also like he could snap at any moment.
My stomach is growling for food, and my lips are desperate for more water when the car eventually stops in front of some tall cast-iron gates. I watch him shift in his seat, straightening the fabric of his expensive suit as the gates open and we continue through them. Ahead of us is another impressive house, but this one is less traditional than the one we left a few hours ago. The front is mainly glass, and despite the modern elements and size of the building, it has a cozy cabin-like vibe to it.
I just hope there isn’t a basement.
When my door opens, Ricardo reaches in to grab me, but the man beside me shakes his head and dismisses him. Ricardo shrugs before closing the door, and I watch as my new owner steps out onto the gravel, then stands to hold his door open for me. His fingers tap on the roof of the car while he waits for me to climb out. But I take my time to crawl across the seat, staring up at the big house in front of me as I slowly stand up beside him.
“Are you going to behave, or do I need to detain you?” he asks, and when I slowly turn to look at him, I can’t help smiling as I shake my head. I’m enjoying the feeling of freedom far too much to put it in jeopardy.
“Good choice.” He nods, moving forward as if expecting me to follow him…
Which I do.
Inside the house has dark wooden floors and red brick walls. The natural light coming in through the glass makes the space seem wide and open.
“Oh!” An older woman bursts out from a door to our right, stopping in her tracks and letting her mouth hang open when she notices me. The way her short, gray hair is curled so tightly reminds me a little of my grandma.
“Sylvia,” he nods his head at her curtly, continuing to move through the house and up the staircase. I follow him, noting that there are no photos on the wall, no artwork. Everything here is plain and understated, yet the place feels so extravagant.
When we reach the top of the stairs, he makes a right and eventually stops in front of a door. There are five other doors in this corridor. I wonder if this is his room? Does he intend to do the inevitable now and get it over with?
His long pause and the way he shifts his eyes between the two doors on each side of him suggest he’s making some kind of decision, and I assume he’s made it when he opens the door to his left. The way he holds it open as he shows me inside is almost gentlemanly, and I try not to act impressed when I see that the room is twice the size of the apartment me and Liam crashed at a few weeks ago.
The room is in keeping with the rest of the house, with natural brick walls and oak beams. Light pours in through the large glass folding doors that span the length of the room and lead onto a balcony overlooking the beautiful grounds at the back of the property. I look at the huge, king-size bed that’s made up with fresh white linen and imagine how satisfying it could be to crawl inside it and sleep for a week.
“This will be your room,” he tells me in a low, husky voice that almost distracts me from whatever he’s just told me.
I stare at him, confused. Surely something so luxurious can’t be for me? But before I can question him, he turns his head away from me and moves across the room to open another door.
“Shower. I will have something more appropriate brought up for you to wear.” The way his eyes dance over my body causes my stomach to flip, and I don’t need my inner conscience to tell me that it’s twisted as fuck.
A man who looks like this one can make a girl forget the danger she’s in.
He steps away from the door, and when I see the bathroom it leads to, I notice the shower is bigger than the cell I’ve been kept in for the past week.
“Thank you,” I manage to whisper. I’m grateful for his hospitality, even if I am wary of it. His eyes stare hatefully back at me, reminding me that this show of kindness mustn’t cause me to drop my guard. I must still fear this man. Not that I’m about to let him know that, whoever he is, I will refuse him the power of my fear, just like I did the others.
Liam always taught me that fear is a weakness and to always act strong even if I don’t feel it.
He turns to leave, but when my voice breaks out, it stops him on his way to the door.
“Why?” I ask when curiosity gets the better of me. “Why are you being so kind to me?” He spins around, slowly starting to stalk back toward me, and I can’t help the gasp I make when his fingers grip around my throat.
