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)
Unable to stop myself, I reached out and squeezed his forearm. “It will be in this one. I know it.”
His lips twisted with a sarcastic smile. “How? You gonna break us out of here?”
I’m not. But Henri is.
“I just—” I kept my hand on his arm, forcing back the urge to console him with Henri’s true intentions. Blurting out the first question that came to mind, I asked, “Where were you captured?”
He looked at where I touched him, but didn’t move away. “Like I said, my family immigrated to the UK. I was born in Leeds, but a lot of my extended family still live in Jaipur. I went to visit them after I finished school. I liked it better than England and decided to stay. I got a job working as a tour guide, but unfortunately, one night, the English group I was in charge of got too drunk and created a nuisance of themselves. They ended up in a fight on the street, and I went to get help. A well-dressed American man offered to get them back to their hotel. I was grateful. I got into his car and gave him directions, but…”
“He took you somewhere else.”
He stepped away from me and crossed his arms. “You’ve broken two of your new Master’s rules already by the way.”
I frowned.
Rules? What rules?
“What do you mean?”
“He told you not to speak to another. You were to be mute to everyone but him. Yet you’re talking freely to me.”
I reared back. “You mean, he’ll expect me to stay silent…even around other jewels?” I shot a look at the cameras, blinking red and nosy on the stone walls. Henri had conducted that strange ritual to ward off others, not to control me…didn’t he?
Would he honestly expect me not to speak? Was it because he was afraid I’d blab to every slave that he was a cop or because of some draconian level of control?
“All I know is if they replay the footage of you talking to me, then he’ll punish you.”
No, he wouldn’t...
I stiffened.
Yes, he would.
To keep up the ruse, he would have no choice.
“W-What was the other rule I broke?”
“You showered.” Peter sniffed. “You must’ve used quite a lot of soap because you stink of geraniums.”
My chin shot up. “It’s better to stink of spicy flowers than sperm.”
He chuckled. “I would agree with you, but…he told you to keep his spoof on you. You didn’t.”
I couldn’t hide my shiver, recalling the stickiness of dried cum. The musky scent of Henri had been too much, and I’d stumbled into the shower the moment Peter left to serve his current Master.
“He told you explicitly not to bathe,” he huffed. “He’ll punish you for that too.”
The urge to tell him that Henri wasn’t like the rest burned my tongue all over again.
I’d never had a secret before.
Never learned the cost and energy it took to keep it. Especially when I had no one: no one to confide in, no one to save me.
Bowing my chin, I did my best to seem afraid of what Henri would do. “Hopefully, he’ll be gentle.” My voice wavered, which really wasn’t hard to fake because if Victor knew I’d showered and spoken—despite Henri’s instructions—I would be punished. In full view of everyone. By a good man pretending to do bad things. All to keep his secret for just a little longer.
But for how much longer?
Surely, his team was getting worried by now?
It’d been almost twenty-four hours. An utter lifetime in the scheme of a spy.
Peter scoffed. “Gentle? That man is many things, but gentle is not one of them.”
“He’s been gentle so far.”
Oops.
I instantly wished I could take the words back.
Peter glowered. “Dammit, Ily. I told you not to be stupid, and here you are…being stupid.” Pointing a finger at my chest, he hissed, “Just because he hasn’t truly hurt you yet doesn’t mean he won’t. Face that. Accept that. So when it happens, at least you won’t have a broken heart as well as broken bones.”
Rolling my shoulders, I acted. I pretended. I did my best to hide the bargain between Henri and me and react like I should: absolutely petrified. “I’m sorry, Peter. I-I…it’s just.” Tears sprang on cue, proving I wasn’t dried out after all. “Today has been the worst day of my life. I can barely remember my own name, let alone how I’m supposed to act and speak, kneel and behave.” I looked up through my wet lashes. “But I do remember what you told me earlier, and you have my word I’ll do it. I won’t let my guard down. I won’t believe in things that don’t exist.”
“But that’s the thing, Ily.” He sighed heavily. “You haven’t even raised your guard yet, and you’re already believing in miracles. At least the rest of us hit rock bottom before finding sanctuary in fantasies.” Rubbing his eyes, he tipped his head back and gave a thin exhale. “Anyway, it’s not you who should be apologising. It’s me. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I keep getting tetchy, but it’s only because I’m…”