The Pawn (Endgame #1)(28)

Chapter Fourteen





In the myth of the Minotaur, Theseus, son of King Aegeus, decides that he will slay the monster. He runs the beast through with a sword and then retraces his steps using the string, thus saving all the sacrifices that year and in the future.

I’ve reached the center of the maze.

I’m facing my very own Minotaur. His eyes glow with fierce possession. His hand captures mine, and then he’s pulling me down from the platform. We walk quickly through the haphazard leather chairs. He ignores the shouts and catcalls to share me. I still don’t have my shift or a bra. I’m naked down to my panties, and the last glimpse they have of me is my backside covered in white. Then we’re alone in a room with dim lamps and a fire in the hearth. Even with the heat, I shiver. Gabriel pulls off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders.

Candy couldn’t give me a sword, but maybe she left me a ball of string. Hope to find my way back to myself when all of this is over. Maybe someday I’ll return to college. I’ll find love with a regular man and lead a normal life. I have to believe that, because if I have to wander these halls the rest of my life, I’ll go insane.

“Why did you bid on me?” My voice shakes.

Gabriel crosses the room and pours himself a glass of something amber. He takes a deep swallow. “For the same reason the other men did.”

The small hope that I hadn’t even wanted to acknowledge, the wish that someone would save me, dies in that moment. “Of course you did.”

He returns and hands me the glass. I take a sip and cough as it burns down my throat. Then I take another sip. Immediately I feel fortified, and I realize I should have started with this. In only a few pulls the world seems a little warmer, the sharp edges softened. I hand back the glass and pull the lapels of his jacket closed in front of me, hiding my extra-pink nipples.

“My stuff is upstairs,” I whisper, my gaze darting anywhere but at him. Will he take me to that little room and fuck me there? Or will he do it in this room on an old leather armchair?

He gives a rough laugh. One last swallow and the glass is empty. “Already making demands, little virgin?”

I blink because I hadn’t thought I could demand anything. Hadn’t believed I’d have power. I’m already nothing, but inch by inch he reminds me that I’m even less. “It’s just…” My voice breaks. “My purse. My phone. A dress.”

Because I’m naked under his jacket, which barely covers the place between my legs. I can feel cool air from the room slip underneath my panties with no hair to protect me. Everything feels more exposed down there, more vulnerable since Candy pulled the wax away.

And then there are my breasts.

The silk lining his jacket rubs against me. Candy was right about the lights washing me out in that dark room, spotlights aimed at the platform, but here in this room with just him and me, the rouge on my nipples highlights what he’s going to do to me.

He takes a step toward me, and I back up. Another step. Another. My back hits the wall, and I turn away from him. He grips my chin and makes me face him. His gaze burns with lust, with possession. With an intensity that whips straight to my core.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he says, his breath gentle against my forehead. “I bought you. You’re mine. You go where I say, when I say. And you do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

I manage not to flinch. A million dollars.

Meeting his gaze, I let him see the core of strength inside me, however thin, however deep. He can touch my body, but he can’t touch that. I told him as much upstairs. “Got it.”

“Yes, sir,” he says.

My stomach clenches in instinctive refusal. I press my lips together, facing him with mutiny in my expression. Would it be so bad? he asked me. Giving up control for a month? Letting someone else guide you? Letting someone teach you? Reluctantly I mutter, “Yes, sir.”

The corner of his lips turns up. “Don’t fight me, little virgin. I’ll enjoy it too much.”

That’s probably true. I lift my chin, determined to face whatever he throws at me. “What should I do?” I ask, challenging. “Should I get on my back? Or on my hands and knees?”

“Still trying to control things,” he muses.

I look away. “No, I’m trying to give you what you paid for.”

“That might have worked with one of those assholes in there.”

He reaches up to toy with a strand of my hair, almost tender. Then thick fingers push through the dark blonde locks. His fist clenches. I make a keening sound as he yanks my head back, his golden gaze looking down at me. My lips are parted in shock and pain—and something too dark to name.

He studies my face, almost in reverence. “Here’s the thing about owning a virgin. For as long as I don’t fuck you, I still own one.”

My breath catches. Does that mean he’s giving me a reprieve? Or does he have darker things in mind for me? He doesn’t have to fuck me to hurt me. He doesn’t have to take my virginity to get revenge.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

A soft breath of amusement. “Did Candy tell you all about her kinky games?”

I feel my eyes widen. She likes kinky games? I remember her tucked into Ivan’s lap like a child, legs pulled up underneath her, hands folded almost in prayer. “She told me not to give in.”