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The pale mercury of his irises turned to steel. “I took my mother’s name. Sarkhan.”
Ellie repeated it and liked how it sounded. “Sam Sarkhan. The prince of kissers. How about I fix the make-up you so expertly messed, and we go dine with the devil? I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to find any way I can to free you from him. We might get lucky.”
His hand released her arms to cup her cheek. “I’m the trained soldier who should have looked after you, protected you, and stopped you from following me into this situation.”
Ellie only shook her head. “Let’s forget about all that. What ifs won’t do us any good. Not anymore.”
Chapter Thirteen
With each step she took,Ellie’s vision tunneled until it was like looking through a straw. The house was beautiful, richly decorated, but it was all for show. Looks were deceiving, and she suspected Finch used them to make a statement, in the same way he’d hurt her.
Sam walked by her side, adjusting his long stride to hers, a hand firmly placed at the small of her back, the contact transferring some of his strength that she sorely needed. Just before they arrived at the dining room, Ellie caught a glimpse of them in a row of mirrors, and almost lost her footing. Logically, she knew she was the one reflected, but it was still so unbelievable.
A man, who’d introduced himself as Panem, led the way and opened the door for them. The dining room was large, situated in a corner room full of windows that reflected the flickering lights of the candles. It was cozier than she expected, probably due to the fact that Finch presided at one end of it and had made sure their place settings were placed on either side of where he was sitting. The simple fact she wouldn’t be by Sam’s side for dinner nearly triggered a panic attack. Only remembering the words Sam had whispered to her just before they’d left the safety of their room kept her going.
Finch rose as they approached, opening his arms in welcome. “Ah! Just in time.” As if they were long-time friends, the psycho went to kiss her. Ellie’s reaction would have been a snarl, but Sam’s touch was a reminder that they’d need to bide their time in order to live another day.
Her skin crawling, she allowed him to put his hands on her and kiss her cheek. “I must say, my dear, that you scrub up quite beautifully. You should do it all the time. It’s too bad about that hair of yours though. It’s way too short. Not more cuts for you, my dear. Maybe we should think about extensions.”
Just as she was about to tell him where he could shove those extensions, Finch ignored her contained fury to turn an adoring gaze to Sam. The men shook hands, but despite Sam’s friendly expression, it was clear he would have preferred to be as far from his father as he could get. Ellie didn’t know how he kept it together like that. If someone had repeatedly raped her as a child, she doubted her psyche would be able to deal with being face to face with her attacker again.
“Now, you must both be hungry. Panem, please fill our glasses.”
As Sam helped her to her seat, Finch’s right-hand-man-turned-butler moved sluggishly around the table pouring wine. Her instincts ordered her to remain on guard, as the servant always had eyes on her, sliding them over her body in a way that almost made her fidget with discomfort.
“A toast to new beginnings and new friends.”
Glad that her hands were steady enough to pick up the wine glass, she clanged it against her host’s glass, but only wet her lips. Her nerves were too fragile to add alcohol to the mix, and a clear brain was her most precious asset.
Finch led the dinner, speaking mostly about where he’d traveled, the people he’d met. None of it was of any interest to Ellie, and as he drank in moderation, he wasn’t about to slip with anything that would help her or Sam escape.
Many times Ellie refrained from looking at Sam, for fear that Finch would take it as a sign of weakness and exploit it against him. The various plates of food placed in front of her were delicious, but it was impossible to enjoy anything. Food was for survival, consumed only to keep her strength up.
“My dear son, I can’t wait to have you by my side as we work together. There’s so much we need to rebuild, so many things you have to learn.”
Ellie slid a gaze toward Sam who looked at his father with that neutral, almost welcoming expression. “Yes, Father.”
“Oh! I know you’re playing games with me, but you’ll see. When you learn everything about me, about what I do, you’ll change your mind and come to me of your own free will. And you’ll see that I’m telling you the truth.”
Was the man delusional? Or mad? Ellie couldn’t see any other explanation. Sam’s hand on the table slowly turned into a fist, his knuckles white, although the rest of his body remained compliant. She had to give Sam a break.
“And what I am to do while you men try to rebuild the family business?” She was glad she kept her voice light, especially when sarcasm threatened to taint her every word.
As she’d intended, Finch turned his attention to her, and again, it creeped her out. “You’re here for my son’s enjoyment. That is your only task and the only reason you’re still here, my dear.” As he spoke, a light in his eyes brightened the older man’s face. “I didn’t think about it at first, but I think a grandchild would be a splendid idea. A son for my son, the future heir of our rebuilt empire.”
Images of Sam as a child flipped through her head and she felt herself blanch, ready to bolt. She wasn’t pregnant, but the idea of bringing an innocent child into the world and into the claws of that man revolted her. Only the unexpected touch of Sam’s foot against hers under the table in a silent show of support and warning, replaced the words she was about to spew at Finch. “It’s a great idea. I always wanted a child.”
Finch seemed satisfied as he smiled even broadly at her. “Child? Make it children, my dear. I renounced family joys to build what was mine, but as I have a successor, I think I could let myself enjoy being a dotting grandfather.”
Even if she and Sam had vowed to find a way out, the conversation was like a trap closing around her, squeezing all the air and hope out of her body. It took great strength to focus again and play the role she’d promised to play. Obedient and meek was far from her natural self, but if it helped confirm Sam’s newfound submission to his father, she’d do it.
Finch started again with his one-sided conversation, talking about family and money and power, and Ellie continued to smile and nod. Sam’s continued touch was the only anchor keeping her in her chair as the meal stretched on.
At some point, Finch returned to the topic of a grandchild, and that put an end to the meal, as he ordered Sam to take her to bed with laughter. By then, Ellie was so happy to finally put some distance between her and Finch, she would’ve agreed to anything he said. Bidding him goodnight, she dutifully kissed Finch’s cheek and took Sam’s arm like a lifeline.
Panem led the way again, like a dark crow into the night, but she held on until the door to their room finally shut out this madness.
Sam took her in his arms before she could utter a single word. “You were brilliant. So brave.”
