A Debt Owed(21)

He gestures me to follow him, so I do. I don’t want to give Easton the satisfaction of winning this fight, but I need to remove myself from this situation before it gets out of hand.

I can tell he had to stop himself from going any further … As if he was dying to grab me and do something to me. But the way he stared at me while I ate that piece of cake, with such a beastly glare, made me feel … powerless. Like he was going to fuck me right there and then on the kitchen countertop.

My heart palpitates, and I clench my legs together as I follow the man up the stairs. I can’t stop thinking about how Easton literally tried to feed me. At first, I thought he was only trying to get to me, to make me feel like a child, but he was so transfixed on my lips that I felt naked. And I don’t like that feeling at all.

Shivers run up and down my spine as we arrive at my door, and the employee kindly opens the door as if it’s some kind of service to me and not at all as an accomplice to his employer’s schemes.

“Do you work for him?” I ask as I walk inside and turn around to face him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says as he attempts to close the door.

I put my foot out to stop the door. “What’s your name?” I ask before I lose the chance.

“You can call me Nick, ma’am,” he replies.

“And you agree with all this?” I ask. “You know I’m a prisoner here, right?”

“Ma’am …” He sighs. “We’re not allowed to speak with you about this.”

“So you know yet you choose to do nothing?” I say, cocking my head as he continues to try to close the door on me.

“Good night.” He manages to push my foot back inside and immediately shuts the door, locking me inside.

Fuck.

I punch the door several times. “You can’t keep me in here!”

But no one replies to my calls. No matter how many times I bang, and say, “Let me out!”

It all falls on deaf ears.

But I know Easton can hear me.

I know because he’s been watching me all this time. He knows where I am whenever I leave this room. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was watching me right now. He just chooses not to respond to my cries. Like a true cruel man keeping a girl hostage.

After a while, I turn around and fall onto the bed facedown. Not wanting to face reality, I curl up into the fetal position and close my eyes, wishing the tears away.





Chapter 9





Easton



One hiccup. Two hiccups. A sniff.

With my ear pressed against her door, I can hear every sound, every breath.

I can’t stop biting my lip as I listen, wondering what she’s doing right now. Something muffles her cries, a pillow perhaps. I imagine her hugging it tight as she curls up on my guest bed … her bed. In her room. The room I gave her as a prison to stay in.

I shouldn’t be here.

But I can’t stay away either. Wherever she is, I’ve always wanted to follow. It’s what drove me to her in the first place, what made me take her away from her father.

She’s right. I’m a cruel monster who only cares about his own desires. But a part of me, somewhere deep inside, wishes for something else too. Something … better. Something real.

But we can’t have that. We never could and never will.

Not when she’s my hostage, someone I keep in a soft and velvety cage for my selfish needs.

My hand lingers on the wood, nails digging in as my heart sinks into my shoes. I’m fighting the urge to unlock the door and go inside.

I have no place in her room. Not after taunting her to the brink of despair. Did I go too far? The knife and fork were only a game—a way to toy with her emotions—but the sight of her obeying me filled me with such power that it consumed me and made me lash out. I wanted her to eat that cake until she was full and then sink to her knees and take my cock as a second dessert.

But that was a filthy dream of mine. Nothing more.

I should’ve known my fantasies would interfere with my ability to reason. I couldn’t keep my cool and made her face the rage inside me. Of course, she’s upset.

I close my eyes and let out a sigh. I don’t want to be this mean. I want to make her happy.

But I want her to suffer too, and those wishes clash like hell. I want her to know what it did to me when she chose to deny me and chose her goddamn father over me. That fucking arrogant son of a bitch who didn’t even love her … who ruined her for me.

Who worked my father to death … literally.

Taking in a deep breath, I lean away from the door and stare at it for a few seconds. Then I turn around and walk away. But there will come a time when I won’t be able to keep that door locked. When I won’t stop myself from touching her … from kissing her. And that day will be here sooner than she thinks.



When morning comes, I instruct Nick to unlock her door and tell her to dress so we can eat breakfast. It takes her a while to come down—two hours, to be precise—and I don’t know why she needed that much time. The hunger must’ve gotten a bit too much for her to cope with, which I assumed would be the case. It doesn’t take long for a person to break when it comes to food. Just like water and sleep, it’s essential for a person to survive … and also the perfect tool for getting someone to do your bidding.