Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
A stranger who was the direct replica of the man who raped her for over a decade.
“Ah.” Victor nodded. “Yes, it’s a fine line of balancing who we truly are. In that case, you’re welcome to visit the library. South wing on the ground floor. Can’t miss it. Go read a book, Henri. Curb your tendencies until I’m back so I can witness your first taste of freedom. I shan’t be long.”
Dropping his eyes to Ily, he added, “In fact, take her with you. It’ll do her good to know that she has no free will anymore. She’s merely an amusement. A toy. A belonging to go where you go and do whatever you command. Use her as a footstool while you read. Make her hold the damn book and turn the pages for all I care.” Stepping into me, he chuckled. “You can read in my library or play with your jewel, but I will remind you, you are not to fuck her. Patience, my new friend. Practice it, and when I return, I’ll personally teach you the first law of ownership. You shall in-still obedience and submission in her, all while my treasured guests watch.”
With a hearty slap on my back, he handed me the black device I’d left on the table. “Use the remote to give her a dose of electricity if she doesn’t behave. It’s programmed to every jewel’s collar. All you need to do is point it at the one you want to shock. Don’t permit any attitude or rebellion. I expect you to keep her in line with the tools I’ve given you.” He winked. “Have fun.”
He strolled off as if he had a cape and a crown, a true king of this rotten empire.
Only once he’d vanished inside the looming stone fortress and his other guests had moseyed off with their own jewels did I glance down at Ily. “Get up. We’re leaving.”
Chapter Fourteen
………………………….
Ily
LEAVING.
God, yes.
I’d give anything to leave. Right now. Immediately.
The way he said it echoed with the same longing within me. Almost as if he wanted to run too. Which made absolutely no sense because he’d been given the keys to a despicable playground where no rules or reprimands existed. He could be exactly what he wanted to be. What he confessed to be.
The things he’d admitted in the foyer repeated over and over in my mind.
“I want to know what it feels like to hold her life in my hands. To fuck her to the brink of death. To bleed her to the edge of nothing. To bruise her until her very bones are imprinted with my ownership.”
Who even said that?
Who wanted that?
A monster, that’s who.
I shuddered as he tugged the leash again, jiggling the awful collar fastened around my throat. I’d only worn it a few hours, yet I hated it more than anything.
I hated the claustrophobia.
The weight.
The wrongness.
The constant reminder of pain, obedience, and captivity.
“Get up,” he hissed when I didn’t move quick enough.
Scrambling to my feet, I swayed a little as my head rung from Victor hitting me before Henri had arrived.
He’d only slapped me, but the force still throbbed in my cheekbone.
The berry smoothie Peter had made me drink fermented in my stomach, adding to my nausea that this was real, this was happening, and no matter how much I wished I could wake from this nightmare, I couldn’t.
“Can you walk, or did he hit you elsewhere?” Henri asked tightly.
My gaze wrenched to his. At least he had the decency to look me in the eyes and not leer at my nudity. “Do you care?”
His jaw worked. “Of course I care.”
I fought the urge to cover myself, keeping my hands balled and arms down by my sides. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve mistaken your decency for obscenity, seeing as you’re the reason I’m here.”
With a low groan, he pinched the bridge of his nose. For a second, he didn’t respond. He shook his head as if unable to figure out a response.
“Henri, is it?”
His head snapped up as a middle-aged guest stepped around the abandoned breakfast table and held out his hand. His skin bordered on leathery from too much sun, but his thick head of brown hair said he wasn’t as old as his crow’s feet suggested. “I’m Patrick.”
With an unreadable expression, Henri shook Patrick’s hand. “Henri.”
“First day, huh.” Patrick smirked, his green eyes landing on me and making their slippery way down my bareness.
I shivered.
My nipples puckered.
I hated that evolution used the same reaction for coldness, fear, and lust. Biology didn’t care why it pebbled my nipples and flushed my skin with highly sensitive, highly reactive states of awareness.
The racing heart.
The sweaty palms.
The sudden prickling, tickling sensations in my bones to fight, submit, or cry.
Heightened sensitivity should only come from good things. Wanted things. Not because of this. Not because I was so fucking scared, I felt sick.