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"You okay, Cynthia?"
Adam sounds calm, and for some reason, the sound of his voice makes this tight ball inside of me unfurl. I let out a shuddering breath. Picking up the discarded clothes, I toss them into the bagand leave them in the bathroom. I don't want to look at them again.
Adam's standing outside when I open the door, and his first question is, "Feel better?"
I nod.
"Ready to talk?"
"No."
Taking me by the hand, he pulls me toward the sofa. "You're going to have to tell me why you got fired from a company you've been working at for more than ten years and suddenly brought here."
He doesn't mention the clothes, but that doesn't mean he's not thinking of them.
"He'd found a replacement for me."
"Bullshit," Adam says, my hands in his. He's rubbing them as if to warm them up. His touch is centering me, and my head is beginning to feel more clear now. His hands are rough and hard, and I don't want him to remove them. But he will if he finds out his father sent me here as a spy. Adam is ambitious. I'm not unaware of all the effort he's put into this company and into the social work in the pack. He says I'm his fated mate, but I don't know how he knows. Aside from this intense attraction between us, I don't know how to tell anything. I wish I could ask somebody or have a platform where I could look it up.
I know I could probably ask Maya, the new friend I had just made, but I don't even have her phone number, and now that I don't work at KDL Foods anymore, there is no way I can meether. Asking Tony is an option, but he's very loyal to Jonathon. He might tell him. I would have asked Healer Lydia had I not heard about the attack on her yesterday. I had anticipated that Jonathon would do something to stop Lydia from asking questions, but I hadn't thought he would move that fast. I dare not approach her, either.
That leaves me with Adam and his words, and after everything this world has put me through, trust is something that doesn't come easy to me. My rope is right now in Jonathon's hands, but the moment either Adam or Norman becomes the alpha, it will be transferred to them. In a blood debt, the person given over is nothing more than a mere slave. The practice was rife in olden times, and now, while it is not outlawed, it is heavily frowned upon. Despite that, in a progressive pack such as this one, I was given over for a blood debt. I am no better than a slave, to be passed down from Alpha to Alpha until one of them frees me. Right now, the small weak thread that Jonathon has offered me is a lifeline I'm clutching to. The idea of my freedom. Norman will never grant me that, so I'm treading dangerous waters right now by helping Jonathon or even considering it. But if my leash is handed over to Adam, would he free me?
I can't outright tell Adam about the blood debt since it's part of the whole package. I cannot speak of it to anyone who does not know. But I have proof of its existence, which I can show him. But I've learned that when someone knows they have another under their control, they show their colors fast. What if Adam decides he can use me like his father is using me now to get into his competitors' companies using whatever methods possible?
It's a far-off thought, but for me, who is living in this hell right now, it is not that impossible to imagine.
I study him, and my chest aches. Will I one day have to see these eyes turn cold and greedy in front of me? Will I be looked at as nothing more than a tool?
"Cynthia?"
Adam's voice is concerned, and I jerk out of my dark thoughts.
The fact that he is able to comfort me so quickly, frightens me. For someone to have such an emotional hold over my soul is a terrifying thought.
"It's nothing," I mutter, trying to pull my hands away, but Adam raises his brows.
"My father wanted you to seduce me, didn't he?"
I purse my lips. "Nobody calls you a stupid man."
He lets out a bark of laughter. "No, they don't."
He seems greatly amused for some reason as he studies me. "You didn't mention to him that I already took you to my bed?"
The way he phrases it makes my body tighten in that same familiar sensation it did when he touched me that fateful night. His eyes darken, almost as if he senses my body's reaction.
“Cynthia,” Adam murmurs, his voice sinfully dark, “you’re not making this easy on me.”
I glare at him, not knowing what to do. It’s not like there is an on/off switch inside me I can flick. The way he’s watching me isn’t helping either. However, I already gave in the first time, and the result of my impulsive actions is still haunting me.
"What I don't understand," Adam says suddenly, his gaze suddenly turning serious, "is why you're letting my father put you through all this? If you're being so badly mistreated, why not leave?"
I stare at him and have no choice but to bite my tongue. He doesn't know, and I can't tell him.
He sighs. "You're not going to tell me."
"I can't."
