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Within these walls everybody of importance within the East Bay state and some surrounding areas were gathered. And if you weren’t, you were a guest of one. Not just anybody was permitted in the Mayor’s private home. Security had cleared us at the tall black gates before they opened to allow vehicles in, then there were a few security members at the mansion’s entrance body—patting us down and checking bags with others set up around the event.
I’d only jolted the tiniest amount, so I’d just have to have faith he saw nothing. Ordinary eyes never did, unless you knew what to look for. Even then, slight movements or words would never reveal the true story, not just from a quick observation without a backstory. It could have meant anything.
I vowed that I’d find out more about the porter, or his name at least. Because there was a story there. From the interactions I’d had with him, I sensed his intelligence, and also this dangerous energy that seemed to surround him. My purse vibrated in my hand. I unzipped it, unlocked my phone, and saw a simple message.
Him: Make your excuses and be waiting for me at the apartment.
Showing no outward reaction, I put away my phone calmly, sinking back half the glass left of my new champagne and savoured the bubbles fizzing down my throat. I found a table to put the empty glass on and said my goodbyes to my parents, nodding politely at others. I left the opulent ballroom making my way to the entrance where my driver was waiting. I instructed him to take me to the apartment’s address, clarifying that I wouldn’t need a later pick up. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be calling on him. He’d report to my parents any inconsistency he encountered, so I always used him sparingly now.
I typed in the building access code, the glass door electronically opened, letting me pass through. It softly clicked closed just as the elevator arrived, to take me up to the penthouse. I thumbed in a different access code, which allowed me to travel to the top floor.
Only the best for him, with high security measures in place which barred those who weren’t welcome. This was only the second time I’d been to this apartment and the beauty of it once again dumbfounded me.
Unlocking the door, I placed my purse on the sideboard with the key and walked over to the ceiling to floor windows which spanned the width of the living area. I stared in awe over the bright city lights below me, lighting up the darkened blue night sky with ominous clouds hovering.
I stood there, unaware how much time had passed, when I heard the key turning in the lock and footsteps that seemed to ricochet throughout my body, heightening in sound as they came to a sudden stop behind me.
Hands pressed heavily onto my shoulders as I went to turn, holding me in place. I sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers dug in further. I tensed with the sharp pain knowing with certainty there'd be finger marks left there tomorrow that I’d have to cover up carefully.
“You looked impressive tonight,” I mumbled, seeing his reflection in the window before me and noting the dangerous smile he wore. Taking a deep breath, I emptied my mind of anything other than the here and now.
“You like being admired by others, hmm? By lots of other men? You loved them watching you with lust in their eyes, right?” he replied, goading me and creating non-existent issues.
Whichever way I answered, it would be wrong. I knew it wouldn’t be a good night; I could sense it. So, I did what I knew to do when I tried my best to save myself from the worst of his activities.
“I’m sorry,” I told him truthfully, and I was.
I was sorry that this was my life, that I had to apologise for his behaviour, for the behaviour of others and how they acted towards me. Somehow it was always my fault. I would be the one who would suffer. I reached out, placing one hand on his jaw and the other on his body. I leaned into him,submittingto him. He tensed, but I ignored the reaction and carried on.
“Tell me what to do.” I turned my head to look at him eye to eye. He knew I was his, I always was. His eyes lit up with satisfaction and desire. It always surprised me at how easily he hid behind his mask around others, when to me, his expressive eyes seemed to tell a detailed story.
The smile he flashed me was pure smugness, and I knew he’d push me tonight, probably to my limits. Testing me—not that the tests ever stopped. The lessons were constant.
Manoeuvring my body round to face him, he said, “The other room. Now.” He pushed me in that direction as my feet stumbled, stalking closely behind me.
The other room. Directly beside his bedroom, but unique. He’d reconstructed it to emulate all the features of the school dorm room I’d left behind. Recreating our sordid history. Sick, twisted mind games. I’d learned to read him well; there were three sides to this man.
At times, what he subjected me to felt more regimented, and other times not; as if two personalities fought for priority and one became a successor. And the last one, that rarely, if ever, showed itself as the friend I once knew.
I stumbled into the room on my heels and took in the added extras that weren’t present in my old dorm room. Furniture and toys used within the BDSM scene. Items which, used in the correct sense and consensually, I had no doubt hundreds of thousands of people around the world took pleasure in.
To me, they represented everything that was wrong with this situation. Any form of abuse was never consensual, it was never a choice.
“Strip. Then onto the bed on all fours,” he snapped, his voice cracking like a whip.
Before I could move to carry out his orders, he was behind me ripping the zipper on the back of my dress, roughly shoving it down; the seams of the dress ripped. Standing still, I let him do as he wished as the tatters of the dress lay in bits on the floor. A gorgeous dress now ruined.
“Others appreciated this body tonight, without my permission,” he hissed in my ear, his hard body pushing up against the back of mine in warning.
“This is the dress you chose,” I tried to placate him.
He tsked. “Oh Milla, my angel. What will we do with you tonight?”
I didn’t respond to his rhetorical question; I didn’t need to. His mind was made up. I would pay for the sins of others with my flesh.
Grabbing the back of my neck roughly, he pushed me upon the bed in silent demand. I got into position fully naked, waiting for him. I heard the shedding of his clothes—slowly. He did this often—building the anticipation; it was his power move when I never knew what was going to happen next.
For someone who in everyday life was generally quite predictable, what he did to me was not. He wanted me caught off guard with him. It was a double-edged sword he played upon, desire versus fear. I heard movement around the room, but I kept my eyes focused ahead on the plain white wall.
