by J. L. Beck
Gritting my teeth, I do my best to act unphased. “I’m dead serious, and it will cover all that it needs, but still give everyone a little tease.”
Elena’s green eyes fill with disappointment. “Why would you want to tease anyone? I thought I was yours?”
My jaw pops, and I wonder if she can sense how annoyed I am, how I really don’t want her to wear the fucking dress. There isn’t shit I can do, though. “Yes, which is why you will wear it and not complain, otherwise you can go naked. Would you like to do that?” Over my dead body would I ever allow that, but she didn’t know that.
Frowning, she says, “I don’t want to wear that. I won’t be comfortable. It’s too revealing, and everyone will be looking at me. Can’t I wear something else?”
“No, and that’s the point. I’m showing you off, letting everyone know what I have that they don’t. I want all eyes on you. I want them to want you and be jealous.”
She looks down at her hands and away from me, but I don’t miss the dread and disappointment in her features. “Then, I guess I’ll wear it. It’s not like I have a choice.”
At least she’s learned that much.
“Correct,” I say and place the dress on the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Just a little headache today.”
Walking to the door, I grip the brass knob and talk over my shoulder. “Good. I’ll be back in a little while to get you for dinner.”
There is a slight pause, and then Elena clears her throat softly. “Did you figure out... who poisoned us?” she asks hesitantly. She is scared, and I understand why, but she has to know there is no safer place than here.
“I told you not to worry. You’re safe with me, and I will make sure whoever did this pays. When I find out more information, I’ll tell you.” She nods, and I walk out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I twist the lock into place and walk back to my office.
Markus is sitting in one of the seats in front of my desk, a smug look on his face. If he doesn’t get out of my face, I’m going to rearrange it.
“How did it go?”
“Fine. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shrugs. “Probably. I wanted to talk to you, though. See where your head is. This is still all about revenge, right?”
“What else would it be about?”
Markus’s eyes narrow. “You’re different with her…”
Am I? I’m still a ruthless asshole. I’m making her wear the dress even though she doesn’t want to. She is mine… but the need for revenge, to hurt her father overshadows that. I can’t push my revenge to the side to spare Elena. It will never happen. I can’t allow it. Romero is going to pay for killing my mother, and Elena will just have to be a casualty of war.
“Not really, now get the fuck out of my office and stop second-guessing me. I have shit to fucking do.” I seethe, settling into my seat.
“I’m not second-guessing you, just wondering if you’ve found someone to restart that rusty old thing in your chest.”
“Says the almost emotionless asshole in front of me,” I counter.
Markus shakes his head and gets up and walks out without another word. With him out of my hair, I think of the event. There will be a major chance for her to escape, and as soon as she sees her father, she is going to try. I just know it.
I need some type of insurance, something to keep her in line, so she obeys. I think of all the different things I can offer her, freedom to roam the house, walks outside on the property. Of course, those freedoms she will gain from getting away as well. I need something that will strike fear in her, make her want to obey me because the consequences will be grave if she doesn’t.
Then it hits me, her asking about Marie...
Perhaps that will do the trick.
17
Elena
Like clockwork, the lock turns, and the door opens at a quarter to twelve. The maid enters the room with my lunch. Carrying a tray of food, she walks all the way up to the bed and hands it to me.
“Would you like me to stay while you eat?”
The tray almost slips out of my hand at the suggestion. “Ah, I’d love to, but…” Julian might kill you.
“I’ll stay, then,” she chirps, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know if it’s safe. Julian doesn’t like anyone in here.” I wonder what she is thinking about my relationship with Julian. She obviously knows that he keeps me locked in here.
“He told me himself it was okay to come in and talk to you while you ate.”
“Oh…” That’s surprising. So surprising that I’m not sure if I should believe her. Maybe I should tell her to leave just for her safety. On the other hand, if this is true, I would love the company. I already feel connected to her, knowing she was here when I was sick. We didn’t talk a lot then since I was mostly unconscious, but there is still a familiarity between us.
“If you’re sure, I would love it if you’d stay.” I smile. “Would you like some?” I point to my tray. “There is always way more than I can eat, and I would hate to sit here and eat in front of you.”
She smiles widely and reaches for the grapes, her fingers barely graze them when an image of a dead person sprawled out on the kitchen floor pops into my head.
“On second thought, maybe you don’t want to eat my food. The last person who did, died.” I half-laugh even though it’s not funny.
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. Mr. Moretti has been having everything tested before it’s brought up to you. He doubled all security around the house as well.”
“He did?” That makes me pause.
“Yes, he is always very concerned about your safety.”
I just nod, not wanting to correct her. He isn’t worried about me. He is worried about someone taking what’s his. If she saw the dress he wanted me to wear, or knew half the story of how I came about being here, I doubt she would think he cares.
For the rest of the lunch, I try to steer away from the subject of Julian and ask Marie about her and her life instead. She tells me about her siblings and her parents, who came to America from the Philippines when she was just a little girl.
“I wondered where you were from, you look so exotic, but you don’t have an accent.”
“It’s because we moved when I was in kindergarten. My parents have very strong accents,” she explains while I take the last bite of my sandwich.
“That was delicious.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed your lunch. It was nice spending some time with you, but I need to get back to work now.”
My shoulders sag in disappointment. I took my time eating, drawing this out as long as I could, but I knew this would end sooner rather than later. “Hopefully, we can do this again.”
“I’m sure we can.” She grabs the now empty tray and heads out the door. “Bye, Miss Elena.” We give each other a little wave goodbye before she closes the door and locks it behind her.
Instantly, I’m overcome with guilt. Is Julian really okay with her coming in? Maybe she was lying, or she misunderstood him? What if this was a test?
Oh, god. What if Marie gets hurt because of my selfish need for company?
I’m so nervous for the rest of the day, I can’t even concentrate on math. I can’t shake the feeling that Marie is in danger and that it’s my fault.
When Julian finally comes to get me for dinner, I’m on pins and needles. As soon as he walks in, I bombard him with questions.
“Is she okay? Marie, I mean. You didn’t do anything to her, right?”
“Why would you ask me that? I told her it was fine to come in.”
“I thought…”
“You thought I killed her?” He arches a brow in questioning.
I feel ashamed to admit it, but nod since there isn’t any point in lying to him. Julian is cruel, sinister, and I know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone. Man or woman.
“I didn’t kill her… but your concern for her well-being is interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Maybe that’s not the right word. Convenient would be better.”
“What that’s supposed to mean?” I’m almost afraid to find out.
“At the event I’m taking you to, I need you to behave. I need you to act a certain way and do things you might not want to do, but you will do them because if you don’t, Marie might get hurt.” The words slowly enter my mind, and I piece the puzzle together.
“You’re using her against me,” I growl angrily.
“Yes, but I will not harm her if you behave, and I will reward you. I will give you more freedom. All you have to do is prove yourself to me.”
“Prove myself? What does that even mean?” I toss my hands into the air. “I’ve never done anything for you not to trust me. I’ve played all your games, never fought you on anything. I let you keep me in your bedroom without complaining. I think I’ve proven myself enough… maybe you are the one who needs to prove himself to me.”
As soon as the last bit leaves my mouth, I regret saying it. Not because it’s not true, but because I don’t want to provoke Julian.
His crystal blues become stormy, and my eyes move to his hands that curl into tight fists. Sometimes things seem so perfect, and I think maybe I can reach him, and then he says or does something, and I’m back to being hopeless.
“Have I not proven to you that I can be kind? That I’ll take care of you? That you can trust me? Have I lied to you? Hurt you?”
“No…” My shoulders sag down, and I turn my head away, unable to look at him longer. No, he hasn’t physically hurt me, and he has shown me kindness in his own way, but I can’t help but expect more. Maybe that’s my problem. I shouldn’t expect more from a man who bought me.
Everything he does is to ensure that I behave, and now he is using Marie as extra insurance. I don’t like it, not at all, holding another person’s life in my hands, but what option do I have? Either way, Marie ends up hurt, and I could never sleep at night knowing that I cost someone else their life.
“I already told you. It’s not always going to be like this. You won’t always be locked in this room, but I need to know that I can trust you, and this event is going to be the perfect way for you to gain that trust.”
“I understand, but I’ve been here for weeks. I haven’t tried to escape… I’ve listened.” Reasoning with Julian is like trying to reason with a bull. It’s pointless, and you’ll probably end up dead before you get anywhere.
Julian’s gaze softens at my words.
“Do this for me, okay? Behave, don’t fight, and I will give you freedom.”
“Okay,” I say, my voice dripping with defeat.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, very. It’s late.” I get up from the bed and grab his hand naturally. I know he only holds my hand when we walk through the house, so I won’t run away. He likes me to be anchored to him. So he can control me, but today I’m imagining that he is just holding it because he wants to. It’s the one thing that makes me feel like I’m not just his prisoner.
He leads me through the house and into the dining room. It’s already dark outside, and probably cold with the sundown. So, I’m not surprised we are staying inside.
The table is set as always with the dishes covered and ready for us to dive into. He pulls a chair out for me, and I take my seat while he takes the one beside me. As always, he serves the food, which is grilled salmon and a variety of vegetables tonight.
Setting my plate down in front of me, he asks, “Would you like some wine?”
“I’m not old enough,” I respond.
He laughs and cocks a brow. “You’re old enough to marry but not have a glass of wine?”
Deciding to jump out of my comfort zone, I grab the wine glass in front of me and hand it to him. His eyes twinkle with amusement, and I’m pretty sure I like that look more than I like any other he’s ever given me.
Popping the cork on the bottle of wine, he pours the smooth red liquid into the wine glass, filling it about halfway before passing it back to me.
Bringing my lips to the rim, I take a small sip, wrinkling my nose at the fruity scent that invades my nostrils. There is a bitter tanginess left in my mouth after I swallow, and I shiver, unsure if I like it or not.
“It takes time to develop a taste for wine,” Julian simply says, stabbing a piece of vegetable with his fork and shoving it into his mouth. He eats as viciously as I suppose he kills, and that’s not the image I need to be conjuring up in my mind right now.
“It’s not bad, but it’s different,” I say while staring at the red liquid. “I’m not sure if I like it yet or not.”
“Drink some more, I’m sure it will grow on you.”
Nodding, I drink a little more in between bites of food. With each sip I take, my cheeks grow warmer. In fact, my entire body feels warm, like I’ve been wrapped in a warm blanket.
Soon the glass is empty, and I look to Julian to see if I may have another.
“I thought you didn’t like it?” he teases, and this is the side of him I like most. The side where he shows me glimpses of who he is beneath all the layers of death and vengeance. It’s because of this that I can’t give up on him.
“I changed my mind.” I giggle, the wine helping to ease the tension right out of me.
“Fine, another half glass, and that’s it. We have a long day tomorrow, and believe me, you don’t want to be hungover on wine.”
Smiling big, I hand him my glass and watch as he fills it. I can feel his eyes on me, drinking me in, and I’m curious to know what he is thinking.
I savor that final glass, loving the way it makes me feel... free, like a butterfly.
As I down the rest of the glass, I push abruptly from the table to stand, forgetting that I’ve never drunk a day in my life before. The world shifts on its axis, and my knees knock together. Grabbing onto the edge of the table, I try to steady myself but am thankful when Julian swoops in, wrapping a protective arm around my waist.
Standing face to face, chest to chest, I crane my neck back to look up at him. I can feel the heat of his body rolling off of him. His eyes are blazing, his cheeks high, and his jaw so sharp you could cut with it. His nose has a slight angle to it, making him perfectly imperfect. My eyes move to his lips, they’re full, and I lick my own lips, this strange need to kiss him overtaking me.
Placing my hands on his biceps, he gives me a confused look, and I take that single moment to push up onto my tiptoes and brush my lips against his.
I’ve never kissed before, and under normal circumstances wouldn’t even consider stepping out of line like this, but the wine gives me newfound courage.
A zap of electricity ripples through me, and I squeeze onto his arms, pressing my lips a little more firmly against his. His own lips move against mine, molding to me. I feel so much in that single stroke of his lips, need, possession, and power. I feel like I’m his equal, not a piece on a chessboard.
Then, as if he can sense a change in me, in himself, he pulls away, removing his arm from my waist, and instead, holding me at arm’s length.
His eyes become thunderous, and I shiver under their scrutiny. “What kind of game are you playing?”
My lips tremble, aftershocks of the kiss still working their way through me.
“I’m not playing a game,” I croak, though for once, I’m not afraid of him. I feel safe in his arms even when I know I shouldn’t, even when I’m certain he’s going to lead me straight to the slaughterhouse when this is all over. “I just wanted to kiss you…”
Julian shakes his head, his features twist into a peculiar expression. He looks younger now, vulnerable, and I want to etch this moment deep into my mind.
“I don’t kiss,” he replies softly.
“You just did,” I whisper back.
His penetrating gaze roams my face, looking for something I’m not sure of. “You’re ruining everything, and you don’t even know it.”
I’m not sure
what that means, and I don’t care to figure it out. Julian kissed me, and that’s a score in my book.
18
Julian
“Come out, Elena,” I order, growing more impatient by the second. “Now, or I’m coming in.” She’s been in the bathroom getting ready for well over an hour. The door isn’t locked, so I could easily barge in, but I’m staying out as a courtesy to her. Marie is in there with her, doing whatever girls do to get ready.
“Okay…” The door opens slowly, and I swear my heart is beating out of my chest. Elena comes into view with each inch the door gives way.
I’m already in my tux, it’s tailored to me, but suddenly it feels too tight. My chest swells with pride, knowing that she will soon be my wife. Taking her in fully, I can’t break my gaze away from her, not even if I tried.
She is wearing light makeup just enough to highlight her natural beauty. Her eyes look larger, and the green in them brighter. Her already full lips are tinted pink, and her flawless tanned skin is even smoother. Her hair falls off her shoulders in dark silky waves, and I have the urge to run my fingers through the locks just to see how soft they really are. I want to tug on the strands, wrapping them around my hand as I… shit, I can’t think about that right now. There is no room in this suit for my cock to get hard.
My gaze drops lower to her perfectly sculpted body, a body that is on full display in the dress I’m making her wear. It’s an emerald green gown that matches her eye color to a T. The dress has no straps, her tits being held in place by a built-in bustier that gives the swell of her breasts a nice push, though she doesn’t need it.
The rest of the dress is form-fitting around her waist and down her legs, but the best part of this dress is that both sides along her ribs and outer thighs are made of a sheer material. A thicker fabric covers her front and back in an hourglass-shaped, which only highlights the shape of her body. But since the sides are see-through, everyone will know that she’s not wearing anything beneath.