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Damien stayed silent, his composure, his ramrod stance, bringing this frigid chill to my body. The tattoos I could see that crept up his neck made him seem even more imposing, even more menacing. No wonder Cameron kept him close. This man screamed danger.
“This way,” Cameron said deeply, softly. I tore my gaze from Damien and followed Cameron up the stairs, the carpet beneath the hardwood making my footsteps light, silent. This home seemed to go on forever, and I found myself noticing the lack of warmth here. No, this wasn’t a home. This was a place where Cameron stayed.
We continued down a long hallway, the few pictures I saw seeming dark and gloomy, depressing and frightening. Splashes of red and black, twisted birds with their beaks open, crying out. I felt like those birds, like those paintings. I was trapped, my world seeming bleak and one-dimensional.
I had no escape, not just because I was now with Cameron but because my world before him had been a dead end. I’d been trapped in my own roundabout, going around until that’s all I knew.
He finally stopped at a set of polished dark wooden doors, the grain moving vertically, the gloss almost blinding. When Cameron pushed the doors open, turned on the light, and stepped aside, I didn’t hesitate to walk in, to accept this with open arms.
Open arms? Who am I kidding? I’m accepting this on my hands and knees, crawling, submitting, pleading for the answer to come.
And it would come, in some form, in some way. And it would be Cameron saying the words to me, telling me what the future held.
I pushed all thoughts out of my head. Having a clean slate, a white wall was how I would manage, how I would keep my sanity.
The room was large, the bed to my left imposing. Dark wood, fixtures, and everything in between told me this was a room that held no warmth, no life. The curtains were partially opened, but I couldn’t see outside, not with the sun barely rising and the glare on the glass. I stared at my reflection, distant, blurry. It’s how I felt on the inside too.
Cameron shut the door, the click resounding, as if sealing my fate, wax on an envelope. I watched him, all hard muscle bunching under his expensive suit. His tattoos peeking out from under the cuffs and collar were the only indication of the monster who lay beneath all that refinery.
“You’ll sleep in here, with me.” His stance screamed he wasn’t about to bend to this, that he wouldn’t give me an out. “The bathroom is there,” he said and pointed to a partially closed door to the right. “Clothing in your size is already in the dresser and armoire. You’ll shower, eat, and then sleep.”
He wouldn’t start this now, wouldn’t break me before the sun fully rose? I saw the way he lifted his brow. Were my thoughts projected on my face? Had I said those words out loud?
“I’m not a good man, Sofia, but I won’t be a bastard…not at first. Now, bathe, dress, and food will be here when you’re done. I have some work to do, so you’ll have to eat and sleep alone for this first time…” He moved closer to me, and I swear my heart jumped to my throat, trying to suffocate me, strangle me. “But for the next two weeks, Sofia…” He reached out and cupped my chin, tilting my head back, making me look into his dark, bottomless eyes. “For the next two weeks you’ll be mine.” I felt him smooth his thumb over my jawline. “When I’m done with you, walking will seem impossible.”
Although I’d known he wouldn’t go easy on me, I just hoped I came out of this alive, that I was still breathing in the literal sense.
ChapterEleven
For a moment, just a second, just a sliver of time, I didn’t know where I was, didn’t have any worries or cares. It was that moment right before consciousness, right before light dawned on me and I remembered my reality, when I drifted through this pleasant feeling. That second right before being fully awake.
That’s how I felt that first time waking up in Cameron’s bed, surrounded by his things, smelling his scent saturating the air.
I stretched, the sheet moving along my body, the silk of the nightgown I’d found in the dresser after I got out of the shower feeling smooth. Everything he’d gotten for me, every outfit, every stitch of clothing seemed intimate, handpicked by him. Although that was most likely not the case. I’m sure he’d had someone do it, paid them to pick out the silk nighties, the lace bras and panties, and the hundred other outfits that lined the drawers and shelves.
But the thought of Cameron touching these things, picking them out just for me, wanting to see me in them, tear them from my body, had every part of me on fire. There was a knock on the door before it was opened. I gathered the sheet to my chest and pushed myself up. An older woman came in, dressed in a standard maid outfit. Her graying hair was piled in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and the clean linens she had in her hand were stark white.
She set the sheets down and turned to face me. “Do you require assistance getting ready before breakfast?”
I clenched the sheets in my hand. “Assistance?” Since arriving here I’d been so exhausted I’d slept the day away. Having people wait on me, interacting with them, the possibility of them actually knowing why I was here, was too much. “I’m fine getting ready myself.”
She nodded. “Breakfast will be served downstairs. Mr. Ashton is already waiting for you.” She then left me alone, and I relaxed. This was all so weird on its own, but to realize there was staff here, knowing, hearing what would go down, had this awkward feeling consuming me.
I glanced at the spot beside me and ran my hand over the perfectly placed sheet and comforter. It was cold to the touch, letting me know Cameron hadn’t been in here all night. That confused but also pleased me, like this weight had been lifted from me, even though a part of me wanted that heaviness.
I waited until the maid left before I got out of bed and got cleaned up in the bathroom. Once I was dressed, staring down at myself, rubbing the lace material of the dress between my fingers, I finally took a deep breath. This was the first day of the rest of my life, right? Or at least my life for the next fourteen days.
I opened the bedroom door and just stood there for a second, listening, watching. The upper floor was quiet, the dark walls and equally ominous decor making things appear cold.
The sooner you do this, the sooner you’ll see how things go.
The quicker this will be done.
Steeling myself, trying to grab on to my courage, I stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me. My palms were sweating, my mouth dry. I forced myself to walk, made myself do this, be strong. I’d made this agreement, and I needed to see it through. When I saw that black bird painting, his eyes so dark, yet seeming to stare right into my soul, this chill raced up my spine.
I don’t know how long I stood there, the dark colors mixing together, his beak open, his cry silent, yet I could hear it in my head. I turned and made my way down the stairs, assuming I even knew where the dining room was where I was to meet up with Cameron. Everything was so still, so…lifeless.
When I finally found the dining room, the wide double doors were engraved with this detail around the edges, maybe trying to soften it, make it appear gentle. It failed, or maybe that was because the man who owned this place, resided within these walls, was cold like ice and unbreakable like granite.
