Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
That’s easy to think, looking back. When a girl is in the middle of hell with no visible way out, it’s not so easy to sit on a high horse and pass judgment. The fact is, all I could do then was survive. Which meant being on my best behavior as much as possible, making sure I did nothing to upset him. I walked on eggshells for those two years.
You’re walking on eggshells here, too.
I’m not a huge fan of the voice in my head right now. I don’t need to be reminded that I have no idea what any of this means. What I now owe Lucian. No way is any of this being offered for free. Men like him don’t hand out favors for nothing. He’ll find a way to make me pay him back.
I guess all I can do is hope his repayment method is less painful than what I would’ve dealt with from Eric.
The bath is a nice start, anyway. It gives me hope. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe I’ll actually be able to sleep tonight, now that I won’t have to be worried about my door getting kicked in.
Though that doesn’t mean I can be completely relaxed. I need to remember who I’m with. The man is dangerous—there was a minute in the apartment when I was afraid he might start throwing things, or worse. I’ve seen that sort of rage cross a man’s face before. I’ve seen it up close and personal, and not all that long ago.
In a way, Lucian reminds me of Eric. He’s polished and sophisticated and definitely sexier than Eric could ever hope to be on his best day. But he’s also brutal. He’s done brutal things to me, even if all of it was sort of fake. Like the way he told me to fight back because he wanted me to.
He’s just as dark inside as Eric is. The difference between them is Lucian has found a way to let that side of himself out. He has fun with it, even if his idea of fun is pretty dark and twisted. In the end, he wants to feel like he controls me or any woman he’s with.
And when it comes right down to it, that’s how Eric is, too. They’re like two sides of the same coin.
That’s what’s on my mind when the bathroom door opens and Lucian enters the room. He didn’t knock or anything. He probably figures that’s his right since this is his house. Either way, I’m not about to argue with him.
He checks his watch. “You’ve been in here for forty-five minutes.”
“I have?” When I look at my fingers, they tell the story. My skin is beyond pruney. “I guess I lost track of time.”
“You’ll boil yourself alive before long.” He takes a pair of towels from a stack beside the tub, and I take that as a hint. I’ve soaked long enough. It’s okay. I can’t imagine spending more time in here anyway.
He helps me out of the tub, taking me by the arms like he’s afraid I’ll slip and fall. That’s not the most surprising thing, though. It’s when he shakes out one of the towels and starts drying me off. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t ask if I want help.
He’s not gentle about it, either. In fact, he’s a little rougher than he needs to be. I find myself wincing as he rubs my skin, but I hold my tongue for fear of what might happen if I complain.
He’s angry, obviously, just the way he was in the car. If there’s one thing I know, it’s not to push someone’s buttons when they’re already angry. Wasn’t I just comparing him to Eric a few minutes ago?
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Living in fear. Just because Lucian lives in a mansion and I’ll be comfortable here doesn’t mean the fear will go anywhere. A gilded cage is still a cage.
My heart is racing when he turns me around to dry off my front. He won’t look me in the eye—I’m not sure how I feel about that, whether it’s a good thing or not. The tightness of his jaw worries me, for sure. He looks like he’s ready to kill somebody.
He wanted me today, and it’s obvious I’m not available for him. Not in that way. I honestly can’t imagine even pretending to be forced into fucking him. I’m too raw, and I might be for a while.
What if he decides to take the money back? I haven’t spent very much of it—only the one outfit for the interviews. That doesn’t matter, though, because I can’t give it back. It would leave me with nothing, and I’d be at square one all over again.
After all this? No, I can’t do that. I can’t go back to the way things were before, not after days spent dreaming of how much easier life will be now that I know I have a nest egg in case everything goes to shit.