I tug at my restraints and bang on the table with my other hand. “I’m ready to go.”
The tall blonde guard with the hooked nose and the dark eyes moves forward. He’s watched me closely since he was assigned to me weeks ago.
I know he’s attracted to me. Every time we’re alone, more or less, he practically undresses me with his eyes. I’ve thought countless times of luring him in and using him to escape this place. But every time I try, I’m hit with a wave of nausea and it derails my efforts.
I just can’t do it. Not even to save my own life.
Because every time I even consider it, Kian’s blue eyes flash across my mind.
“The boss told us to keep you here a little longer.”
I roll my eyes. “Why?”
“He doesn’t give us reasons.”
“Of course not. He says, ‘Jump,’ and you say, ‘How high?’” I grumble. “Bunch of fucking circus animals.”
He clenches his jaw but ignores the obvious bait. “You’re not going to eat?” he asks, gesturing towards my full plate.
“This garbage?” I ask with contempt. “Please. I have taste buds, you know.”
He almost smiles. His eyes flutter over my cleavage.
I eat most of my meals with Rokiades. He insists on it unfortunately. Breakfast, he usually has brought to my room. But lunch and dinner are always here, in this banquet hall. It’s unnecessarily over the top. The ceiling is hung with ugly gold chandeliers that clash with the modern interior of the rest of the room and the walls are lined with formal portraits like he thinks he’s a goddamn king.
He expects me to dress up for the meals we have here, too. And by ‘dress up,’ I mean that he has a maid bring in an outfit he has chosen specifically for me for each meal. Every day that goes by, the hemlines get shorter and the necklines plunge deeper.
It’s all a sick game of control.
Control. What a funny word. I used to think I know what it meant.
I was so, so wrong.
I accused Kian of loving control. Of craving it, getting high off it. But it’s only taken a short time with Rokiades for me to understand what Kian was trying to explain all along. Kian’s control was a give-and-take. He offered me as much as he took from me.
I didn’t grasp that soon enough. And in a short little while, it’s going to cost me everything.
I shiver and try to breathe against the encroaching anxiety, but the dress I’m wearing tonight is a yellow bandage dress that sucks my body in and curves around me like a second skin. It’s so damn tight that it pushes my breasts up, making them look double their size. Of course, it has no elegance or class. It’s a trashy dress chosen by a perverted old man with trashy taste.
I look up at the gold chandeliers and the ugly art on the wall. And all I can think is one thing: Kian would never.
That was another thing I’d accused him of. You’re just like Darragh Kinahan, I’d snarled. Just like my brother. Just like Rokiades. A beast and a monster.
But I was wrong. These men are as different as night and day. I wish I’d realized that truth sooner.
“That’s a nice dress,” the blonde guard comments. Desire ripples across his features. He manages to tamp it back and opens his mouth to say something else.
But before he can, someone appears at the door. “Bring the girl!” the figure calls.
The guard nods and glances back at me, his expression retreating once more into impassive, businesslike seriousness. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“I know as much as you do,” he informs me emotionlessly.
Sighing, I’m uncuffed from the chair and taken through to my large bedroom. When I walk inside, led by the blonde guard who has a grip on my steel leash, I realize that the room’s not empty.
“Doctor,” I say without a trace of enthusiasm.