Her Master's Reckoning

by Lily White

  Pain had that effect on me, giving me a reason to cry that I could brush off as being a reaction to something physical rather than admitting the tears were from frustration and sorrow. And while I believed Aiden knew the truth of their source, he never made mention of it. Instead, he carried me to our bed every night. He helped me bathe to ease sore muscles. He tucked me beneath warm blankets and laid beside me until I fell asleep.

  He was never there when I woke in the mornings. Never came to retrieve me in case I’d decided to kneel by the door again.

  He was giving me my freedom with no sign that he’d seen the error of his ways and would alter his behavior.

  But every night that passed with the dark room remaining empty gave me hope. Hope that he’d changed his mind about the new woman. Hope that he realized he didn’t want me to leave. Hope that he could give up this life because he understood that I was the only woman he needed.

  Eleven days after Aiden asked me to move Greyson from the dark room, he was pulling on a suit jacket when I walked into his office, his eyes meeting mine with surprise when I went through the first motions of stripping down for my inspection.

  “Not tonight, Pet. I don’t have time for that tonight.”

  My eyes lifted to his, my brows tugging together in question. “Why not?”

  “I have a date with a socialite,” he answered, his hands moving to adjust his tie, push the knot into place. Glancing up he saw the pain in my expression, the surprise, and canted his head to the side. “Ah, Pet, don’t be like that. I warned you this was coming.”

  How fucking stupid could I be to think there was even the slim possibility he’d changed his mind? This was Aiden, after all, Master and monster both. No, he didn’t kill women like Duke had done, didn’t mutilate them to get his kicks, but what Aiden was able to do to a woman’s heart was far more traumatizing than what could be done to the body with the sharpest knife.

  “Don’t you want to see if Greyson hurt me?”

  “I trust you,” he answered, checking his watch. In that moment I wasn’t the object of his focus. He had another woman in mind.

  “Don’t you care?” I asked, my voice harsh with accusation.

  Skirting around the far side of his desk, Aiden crossed the room on a determined stride in route to the door. “You haven’t let him touch you in the weeks you’ve had him. Not once. Why should I worry that today was the day you changed you mind and acted foolishly?”

  Fingers gripping the handle of the door, he turned back to me. “I need to go. Don’t wait up. It’ll be a long night. You know how the first few days always go.”

  With a smooth stride he left the room without bothering to look back at me. I knew Aiden when he got like this, knew nothing would prevent him from obtaining his new prey. The only thing I didn’t know was why she was so important.

  Dejected, I left his office a few minutes after him. He’d already driven away from the house, every room empty except for where Greyson lay sleeping and the sitting room where I found Anthony whispering to his Courtesan. They looked up when I entered the room, knowledge heavy in their expressions to see the tears slipping down my cheeks.

  Anthony spoke to Sera quietly and she got up to leave, passing by me and placing her hand on my shoulder as a show of solidarity. She hated Aiden for what he’d done to her, but she had never extended that hatred to me.

  “Sit down, Rebecca.”

  Shaking my head, I began to pace the room. “No, I can’t. I’m too angry.”

  “Wearing a track into the rug won’t help. He’ll still steal her. He’ll still bring her here.”

  A sob escaped my lungs, loud, wet and pathetic. “How can he do this? Why is he doing this? Why now? Is he getting even with me? Is this because I asked him to let me go?”

  The questions rattled off as fast as I could ask them, no break in between to give Anthony the chance to answer a single one.

  “I only demanded my freedom because I thought it would make him see what I am for once! I thought he would hate the idea so much that he would change for me...for us.”

  I dropped to my knees on the thick woven rug, my tears slipping from my cheeks to dot the fibers beneath me. Anthony remained silent, stoic, taking his time to formulate a response.

  That response came on a soft voice, as if he was hesitant to break through the sounds of my wracking sobs. “Nobody can change another person, Rebecca. If Aiden is going to change, he’ll have to make the decision for himself. There’s nothing you can do to force it. Especially not directly. If he sees what you’re trying to do, he’ll fight it tooth and nail.”

  “Because he’s a stubborn bastard! Always has been. But you’re wrong, Anthony. So damn wrong. Aiden had no problem changing me!”

  Silence and then, “Did he though? Change you? Or did he awaken something inside you that you didn’t even know was there?”

  Blinking away tears, I knew he was right. Had always known it. I was the same person I’d been before Aiden, only in this life I could reveal all my demons and pretend it was Aiden who put them there. My reluctance to leave him wasn’t simply my love for him, it was also a selfish response, my mind recoiling against the idea that without him I would return to normal.

  What the hell is normal anyway? No two people are alike. No two lives are lived the same way. There are standards, sure, but who sets them? And who says we all should draw within the same lines and live within the same box?

  In the world, I’m bound to societal expectations, but with Aiden, I’m free. He makes me blameless. Takes the weight of decision and control. Makes it so I can convince myself that my actions are all a simple submission to his wants rather than something I would choose for myself.

  Choice.

  There it was again.

  Regardless of how terrible the results might be.

  Sitting on the rug, I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as if trying to become as small, as compact, as possible. “What will it take to make him walk away? When will I ever be enough?”

  “You are enough. Don’t let yourself believe anything else. There is a reason he’s going after this particular woman. I don’t agree with it. Like you, I’d prefer he let this grievance go. But Aiden will do what Aiden will do, regardless of our preferences.”

  I glanced up at Anthony, watched him through puffy eyes that burned with the salt of my tears. “What’s his reason?”

  Running a hand through his black hair, Anthony lounged against the couch, crossing on leg over the other, the susurration of his pants a bare sound in the silence of the room. “The woman Aiden is currently after is the same woman your Courtesan attacked and damaged. Aiden wasn’t lying when he told you Greyson had bitten her breast, almost succeeded in ripping the nipple off. Master Adam made a mistake in revealing some of the Society’s secrets to her and she has been blackmailing us for money. Unfortunately no amount seems to be enough. She keeps demanding more while threatening to go to the police with what she knows if we don’t pay her. Aiden is merely taking care of a problem, relieving himself of a threat.”

  Pressing my forehead to my bent knees, I understood why this woman was important. But I also knew Aiden. If he wanted her silent, he could just as easily kill her as bring her to the dark room. I wasn’t sure how I felt about what he would do to her there, wasn’t sure that she deserved mercy when she had attempted to take advantage of Greyson’s servitude without worry of what it would do to him. Which monster was worse? Aiden, who made a life of creating Courtesans, or people like this woman who saw no problem with taking advantage of them?

  Maybe, in the end, we’re all the same. No sin weighing more heavily than the next.

  Still, Aiden’s reasoning didn’t change things for me. Bringing this woman home only proved he had no intention of leaving this life.

  He’d promised me my freedom and I knew he would give it to me. What I was now doubting was whether he would ask me to stay by choice. Aiden would go on, would continue down his path,
rejecting even the tiniest notion that he had a soul or a heart.

  “Maybe this is my answer,” I said, more to myself than Anthony.

  “Or maybe this is the final kick that spurs you forward,” Anthony suggested. I could feel his eyes on me, knew he was watching for the hints to my thoughts that came with my body language. Knowing that, I made sure not to move in response to his suggestion. No muscle twitched. My expression unchanging. I merely existed in my space, contemplative and numb.

  Finally, I met his stare. “Should I leave him? And if I did, where would I go? It’s not like I can return to my previous life. There would be too many questions.”

  “I’m sure if you did leave, Aiden would provide you with whatever you needed to start over. He wouldn’t let you go without.”

  Fresh tears spilled. Fat. Wet. Rolling down my cheeks in slow rivulets of misery. I’d be alone if I left him. I knew that. Maybe I’d meet someone else, but they would never have the hold on me that Aiden managed to accomplish. They wouldn’t affect me in the same way. Wouldn’t bring me to life with just a look that meant I would enjoy the pain they gave.

  Something inside me died to think my life would be vanilla for the remaining years. A man on top of me working to bring on a climax that would never come, sweat beading on his brow that would drip to my chest. Revulsion at the thought shook me, an acrid taste on my tongue.

  “I’m not sure I can leave,” I confessed. “It would take strength I don’t have.”

  Shifting in his seat, Anthony laid his head back against the couch, his eyes closing, his shoulders finding the relaxation I couldn’t quite grasp. “You’re stronger than you think. What other woman could have adapted in the way that you have? Could have endured a man who wears cruelty like a second skin? Rather than breaking and falling apart, you were more like water by taking the shape of the container that held you, by finding happiness in a life most people would consider a nightmare. A weaker person could never accomplish the same thing. If you decide to move on, you’ll adapt again by taking the shape of that new life and discovering happiness.”

  I laughed, the sound more sorrow than humor. “Fine. I could leave. But I don’t want to. I want him to come with me. I want both of us to find happiness somewhere else.”

  His lips pulled apart on a faint smile. “You messed up by telling him you wanted to go. It was an offensive move that put him on the defensive. Of course, he would go back to what he’s always known. You need to show him, Rebecca. If his bringing this woman home is his act of not giving a damn, then find your own way of showing him the same.”

  “He won’t care-“

  “Oh, he will. I don’t think Aiden has any intention of letting you walk out that door. This showdown is more about who will buckle first and say it.” Pausing, Anthony sat up, opening his eyes to stare at me with kindness and warmth. “You still have him where you need him. Don’t react to him bringing this woman home. Not even a little bit. That’ll concern him more because he’ll understand he’s not forcing your hand. Defy him. It’s what has always had him at your feet more than you were ever at his.”

  “Can I tell you a secret, Anthony? Between you and me?”

  He nodded his head, his eyes exhausted. “Of course.”

  An image played in my mind, an offering I hadn’t understood was precious before I stomped all over it. I would have given anything to rewind time so I could think more clearly, so I could change my reaction to an event that nobody believed would ever happen. “Aiden went down on his knees for me. He did so as an act of training me to be a Master, but he still did it.”

  Anthony was quiet for several seconds, his shock plain to see. “And what did you do when he did that?”

  My teeth snapped together, regret oozing from every pore of my body. “I yelled at him. Told him he was an egotistical jerk. I lied and said that I didn’t care about what he did to me anymore because it didn’t matter. He was like every other man. That when we’re together, it means nothing.”

  Scrubbing his palm down his face, Anthony groaned, the sound as pained as the weak pulse of my heart. “That’s not what I would have suggested you do, but what’s been done can’t be changed. Have you made up with him since?”

  Nodding, I toyed with the fibers of the rug, picking at the thick wool to do something other than sit in my misery. “I went to him the next night and asked for my freedom. He gave it to me. And now this happens.”

  A heavy sigh. “There’s still time to change his mind. Don’t give up hope yet. Let’s see what he does with this new guest and you can decide what to do from there.”

  “Okay.”

  Standing from the couch, Anthony paused as he walked past me, his hand patting the top of my head as a father would a child. “As for tonight, I’m going to go to bed, probably attempt to find ear plugs on my way because I have a feeling our new guest will be screaming for a few hours. I suggest you do the same. Listening to it won’t make you feel any better.”

  He was right. Aiden liked to let the new woman scream for hours when he first brought them. It was their acclimation phase, their eyes fighting to adjust to the lack of light, their body chained, their skin tight from how cold he kept it in that room. By the time he finally walked in, their throat would be shredded from their screams.

  I should know.

  He did it to me.

  Listening never helps. It’s not like I can do anything for them. I won’t go against the man I called Master.

  “Good night, Anthony. Thank you for listening.”

  He didn’t respond, simply walked away to leave me where I sat. The night would stretch forward as it usually does, and in the morning when the sun rose up, I would understand that life in Aiden’s world may never change.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  AIDEN

  Sarah has quite the boring menu. Let me start there so you understand the absolute torture it had been for eleven days following every one of her banal posts on social media.

  Following one of the new fad diets that come and go as often fashion trends, one hit wonders and viral fucking videos, Sarah posted her meal three times a day together with the calorie count of the plate and her daily weight loss tally. Yippee!

  Fuck, it was painful. Not to mention the memes. That bitch had shared every ridiculous picture and quote she could find, most of which were spelled incorrectly or didn’t make sense, a treasure trove of nonsense only broken up by the occasional check in or selfie edited to death with some photo app.

  But, the pain was worth it in the end. Tracking her hadn’t been difficult, and finding the secret she kept online had been as easy as running a reverse image search. Eventually one of those damn selfies had led me straight to The Dungeon’s door, an online fetish site that was about as secure as the front doors of the local superstore on Black Friday.

  I wanted in and, boom, there I was, reading all about how socialite Sarah fantasized about being a Master herself, or a Mistress, as she liked to call it.

  It was the best laugh I’d had in ages, the ‘punishments’ she’d promised to dole out were about as heart stopping as the threat of being tickled with a feather for an hour. Give me a fucking break. But she set up a date with a good looking submissive; namely a nineteen year old exchange student from Italy studying in the States. I should mention the student was a ruse, a character I played to lure the little bitch right to me.

  Without worry that she would bring a friend along because beating the crap out of a guy and fucking him didn’t fit the soul searching, picture taking, meme sharing, lifestyle Sarah enjoyed, I drove to the secret address I’d given and knew I’d have her all to myself.

  We wouldn’t stay long, and I could guarantee you she wouldn’t spank my ass and make me call her Mommy like she’d promised.

  Pulling my car around back of the single story, ranch style house I knew would be empty because Sarah’s online acquaintance (who wasn’t an actual friend of hers at all) had nicely let everyone know through a post that her fa
mily would be on vacation, I killed the engine. Seriously, the shit people posted for all the world to see was a lesson in why privacy is a better approach.

  Either way, it worked for me, and I crept from the car to break in through a rear window, finding the house dark and without a single soul who could identify me. I checked for cameras, found none, then went about turning on a few lights to make it appear that I lived there. I wore gloves to protect against fingerprints and didn’t worry much about making noise when she arrived. Knocking her out would be far too easy.

  Should the authorities discover this rendezvous sight by searching Sarah’s activity, they would have a nice conversation with the family that owned it once they returned from Cabo.

  Headlights lit up the front window, some god-awful music blasting from the interior of the car with a heavy thump thump thump of bass that would was torture to a man like me. Once she killed the engine, the singer’s voice that sounded disturbingly like a cat slowly dying abruptly stopped and I listened as a car door opened and shut, the quick beep of an alarm being set followed by the clickity-clack of delicate heels running up the sidewalk.

  Three quick taps of her knuckles on the door and I opened it up, standing on the other side because I didn’t look anything like the model’s photo I borrowed for my profile as Alessandro Bianchi who was a fresh faced stallion straight from the island of Sicily.

  She stepped in, turned to look at me, her eyes widening for just a split second before I grabbed the front of her shirt to hold her in place between the door and the frame. Three heavy hits against her head as I slammed the door over and over and Sarah slumped to the floor, her body dead weight as I dragged her in. She was still partly conscious and I finished the quick job by placing my thumb over the artery pumping blood and oxygen to her brain to stifle the flow, followed by a cocktail of sedatives I had in a syringe in my back pocket.