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In spite of the anger raging within me, I could never take a whip to her – or any woman for that matter – and least of all beat her bloody. Growing up, people stronger than me had taken pleasure beating me at every opportunity. I would never be them. There would also be no repeat of the punishment in my office when I… was brutal with her.
That left one option.
We entered the building and headed for the lift at the end of the hallway. The night guard nodded at our approach. My pace accelerated the closer we got to the lift, and Grace skip-ran to keep up. I waited until she stood inside to select our destination. I pressed my thumb on the scanner.
“Anton, what are you doing?” Grace asked with a shaky voice.
I gave her a cold look and pressed the button to the secured basement. Her lips quivered. I faced the door, refusing to let myself be moved. Not after tonight.
“Why, Anton? Why?” she asked, a lone tear rolling down. “I didn’t do anything.”
She approached me and wrapped her hands around my arm, pleading.
“Please, Anton… Please, don’t do this.”
I tore my arm out of her grip just as the lift doors opened and marched down the corridor.
“I don’t want to go there! Anton, please… please,” she said, still standing inside the lift.
I stopped. “Move your ass or I’ll drag you,” I said.
She took a couple of hesitant steps, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. Losing patience, I grabbed her upper arm and dragged her after me. After unlocking the cage room, I jerked my head indicating for her to get in. Grace complied. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Strip,” I ordered, standing right in front of her.
“We only danced, Anton. We did nothing wrong. Everyone could see that,” she pleaded.
“Only danced?” I shouted. She cringed and shrunk back. “Only danced three fucking times back-to-back, clinging to each other like you were fucking drowning. Yes, everyone… EVERYONE could see. You made a damn spectacle. And then you had to go and fucking kiss him!”
“It wasn’t—”
“SILENCE!” She recoiled and stood trembling, still holding herself. “I told you to strip. Don’t make me tear it off.”
She undressed, her soft sob echoing in the empty room. Her dress slid to the floor, and she stepped out of her stilettos. Goosebumps rose on her skin. Grace lifted her head and looked at me with such gut-wrenching sorrow, my resolve faltered.
“Please don’t do this, Anton. Today was so perfect. Please…”
I tore my eyes away from her. “Ring.”
Another big sob ripped out of her. Head down, shoulders drooping, she walked into the ring of light.
“Bars,” I said, once she reached her destination.
The cage formed around her.
She crouched without a word as the gridded lid descended. Grace’s arms circled her folded legs, and she rested her forehead on her knees. I walked out, leaving her dress and shoes on the floor where she dropped them.
My fingers tapped on my desk as I struggled to focus on my work. This was completely absurd. Why the hell was I so tormented? She deserved it! By Braxian law, she deserved worse.
We’re not on Braxia.
And that was the crux of the matter. We weren’t on Braxia. Which was a good thing. But I was Braxian. Any disrespect to me reflected on the clan. I fought too hard for what little respect they granted me to let her ruin it.
But they’re not here. They don’t know. So what does it matter?
Everyone saw what she did. I could see their thoughts in their eyes. When would Anton lose it? What punishment would she get? Even Caleb needled me to fuel my anger. By now, they probably thought I was weak for a Braxian.
Didn’t you tell her you didn’t give a shit what people here thought of you?
