Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
I guess there’s one thing I have now that I never did before: protection. Sebastian technically owns me and will continue to protect me as long as I remain under his ownership. I’m reminded of his hold on me at the club and how he came to my rescue when he spotted Yanov touching me. Even if he denies giving a shit about me, denies how attracted he is to me, there’s one thing he can’t deny, and that’s that I’m his. So even if the only reason he protects me is to keep me, to own me, I’d rather be owned by him than abused and used by Yanov any day.
17
Elyse
In the two weeks that pass, I slip back into the shell of the girl I used to be.
I’m exhausted and so jumpy I scare myself sometimes. I haven’t slept in my room since that night. Instead, I’ve made a makeshift bed out of blankets and pillows in the closet of a spare room on the second floor. Even without windows or a way for anyone to sneak up on me, I haven’t been able to get restful sleep. The worry and fear of Yanov getting close enough that he could easily kidnap me terrifies me.
I’m in a permanent state of exhaustion with no end in sight, which is probably why I nearly trip over my own two feet and slam face-first into Sebastian’s chest. My body bounces off him and sends me backward along with all my cleaning supplies.
Bottles of chemicals and towels cascade to the floor, and I catch myself against the wall. I blink back tears when I catch sight of the mess on the floor. Deep breath. Clean it up and move on. You’ll be fine.
I suppose that would be easy enough if I hadn’t run into him. I’ve been doing everything I could to stay out of his way so that I don’t fuck up and give him a reason to send me away. Not only that, but my reaction to his presence makes me forget that we can never, ever be a thing. That no matter the attraction between us, he will always be my boss, and I’ll always be indebted to him. That, and I need his protection from Yanov more than I need anything.
“What the hell, Ely?” He jumps back. “Pay attention to where you’re walking.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I trail off, hoping to minimize the damage. At least I didn’t ruin another one of his suits. Right?
I look up from the floor to be sure I didn’t spill anything on him and find his shirt free of any mess. Thank God.
“I’ll just clean this up,” I say, my voice shaky.
Taking a step forward, I reach for one of the many towels I dropped so I can soak up the glass cleaner, and that’s when things go from bad to worse. My foot slips through the puddle, and before I realize it, I’m flat on my back, my head bouncing off the floor. Pain ripples across my scalp, and black spots appear in my eyes.
I lie there for a moment, trying to gather my wits, my thoughts swimming, the glass cleaner seeping into my clothes. I peer up at Sebastian. His huge body looms over me, and those green eyes of his fill with confusion. His lips move, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
A sudden rush of dread encompasses me, and when I blink, darkness overtakes me.
A man looms over me, but it’s not glass in his hands. There’s a blur; the man morphs before my eyes, and where Sebastian previously stood, now Yanov stands.
“No, please…” I croak and lift my hands to shield my face. My eyes catch on the blood that stains his tattooed and bruised knuckles. There’s so much of it. So much. The air in my lungs wheezes out of me.
I’m a shell of pain, waiting for the moment when my heart stops beating so I don’t have to endure another second of this. I can only hope death will save me now.
“You’ll never escape, never be free. You’ll always be mine,” he growls and then grips me by the hair, dragging me across the floor.
With a gasp, I escape the memory and lift my hand to press it against my cheek. Beneath my fingertips is warm skin. There’s no blood. No pain. It’s okay. You’re safe, I repeat to myself. But am I really safe? Was that a real memory, suppressed due to the trauma in it, or was that simply something my imagination conjured up, given the current events?
I can’t be sure unless I talk to Sebastian or the doctor about it, and I don’t want to do that right now.
My heart thunders against my rib cage, and I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself. Fear still has its claws dug into me, and I scramble into a sitting position, scurrying backward and sending bottles of cleaner flying. I stop once my back collides with the wall.