I cut the call and sighed, rubbing my temples as I put the phone down.
"A hundred million?"
I looked up into Jasper's worried face.
"What of it?"
"Well, we both know what that means, Sir," he said, shrugging apologetically. The man knew his place, but he wasn't afraid of warning me against making something he considered a mistake. "If somebody actually claims that bounty... you'll have to sell some of your personal stock to cover the cost."
I remained stubbornly quiet, but Jasper wasn't done just yet, and he paced the room as he went on.
"You've already burned through a substantial chunk of your liquid assets with the purchase of Cabot Estate, Sir. And that amount doesn't even begin to touch on the hundreds of thousands you've spent trying to get Hubo Cabot out of prison."
Once again, the red mist descended before my eyes. I couldn't stand being told what to do, couldn't imagine anyone not understanding how much my plaything's safe return meant to me. I took a step toward Jasper, eyes raging with silent fire as they met his.
"Do I fucking look like I care?" I asked him, and we glared at one another for a few long seconds before Jasper finally looked away, giving me a curt nod.
"Right you are, Sir. I'll be on my way."
He left the office, and I finally relaxed my stiff shoulders. Jasper didn't mean to upset me, of course - he was just looking out for me, like a good employee should be. Still, his warnings had upset me. I knew deep down I'd blow it all - my fortune, my reputation, my name - just to get Violet Cabot back in my arms safe and sound. And it looked like the rest of the world was starting to realize that, too.
I sat down in my office chair with a heavy sigh.
She really is fucking gone.
It was as if the truth was finally hitting me, Violet's absence more painfully obvious than ever before. It was making my head spin, thinking of her so far away from me, wherever the hell she was. Probably hidden in some cellar in Peterson's house like some kind of animal. My hands formed fists on the desk and I cursed out loud. That fucking bastard wasn't going to get away with this.
For the rest of the night, I couldn't stop thinking about her. My princess, my plaything, my slave, my Violet. I'd only been victorious for a little while before she was taken from me yet again. But even in those short few weeks, I'd learned an important lesson.
When I first took her, made her sign her name on the dotted line, all that mattered was her submission.
Breaking her, hurting her, shaping the girl into my perfect submissive by any means necessary. It was all a means to an end - a way of turning the girl I'd always wanted into a willing submissive for me. But as time went on, I realized just how much I missed her. What a hole her disappearance had left in my life.
Maybe I took things too far.
The thought hit me like a freight train, making me groan out loud and rub my temples yet again.
Maybe I was the one who pushed her away.
The first thought had been a prelude. Now, I was being bombarded with more and more ideas, clues, as to why Violet had left me. I never should have tried to break her so soon. Having her as my possession was so much more important than her submission. And now... now it was too fucking late.
The last time we were together, I broke her.
Had I misconstrued everything?
Had I mistaken her breaking for me as becoming mine, when actually, her breaking point didn't give her what I'd expected... She wasn't free from her own oppressive mind when she submitted to me. I wanted to make the worry, the rules, all the things she'd been taught to believe, to fall away, leaving her raw and vulnerable for me.
But now, I wondered whether breaking her had done something else.
I wondered if it gave her the strength to walk away from me.
Maybe that son of a bitch Peterson is actually telling the truth. Maybe she just wanted to get the hell away from me.
Disgust at myself, at my own actions, made my fingers shake as I reached for my silent phone. I did my best to ignore it.
No calls. No news on Violet. No more fucking hope.
She really was gone...
I allowed the phone to slip through my fingers, burying my head in my hands.
Gone. Fucking gone.
I slammed my fist against the oak desk, making everything on it rattle. The staff had barely cleaned the mess I'd made during my outburst last time, and here I was, ready to wreck the place again.
My phone started ringing on my desk, snapping me out of my thoughts. Hope filled me with every ring that sounded through the deathly silent room, and I allowed myself to believe this call would bring good news.