“Come on,” I say, giving nothing away. “You’ve earned a shower.”
* * *
Chloe
I’ve earned more than a shower. I’ve earned my freedom, but I know he’s not going to give me that, not ever. So I’ll take the shower.
It is incredible to be clean, to wash the cum and sweat from my body. This all began in a shower, alone. Now I find myself standing beneath a fresh flow of water. He is here of course, watching. Still shirtless and wearing nothing but his pants. He leans against the wall, his arms folded as I work sweet-smelling bathing oils over my skin.
“Do you have to watch?”
“I want to watch,” he says flatly. “You’re gorgeous.”
I tip my head back, let the water cascade over my hair. Many men appreciate me, but not the way Darko does. There’s nothing simpering or desperate about his attention. It’s simple.
When I am done showering, he offers me more food. This time I take him up on the offer. I am hungry, and I have no interest in starving myself. I have to stay strong, and refusing to eat will only make me weaker.
“Here.”
He puts a plate in front of me with a ham sandwich on it. Hardly the food I’m used to, but I need to eat, so I eat.
Again he watches me. He seems to find everything about me fascinating.
“Tell me about the Order.”
He gives me a look, one dark brow raised. “I don’t believe it would be a good idea to give you fuel for that fire.”
“You want me to do what you say for a very long time. You may as well tell me. I will find out sooner or later.”
“True,” he admits. “What would you like to know?”
“Who are they?”
“Everybody and nobody,” he says. “The most powerful people in the world are the ones you’ve never heard of. Rockefellers and rock stars are nothing on these men. They have shadow control of companies and countries, judges, politicians, law enforcement. There’s nothing they don’t own.”
“And my father was in their way. How?”
“If I tell you that, I seal your fate,” he says. “Let’s just say they wanted to use the resources of his companies to further their aims.”
“What are their aims?”
“Total dominion over humanity,” he says without missing a beat. “These people don’t believe in democracy, governments, free people. They believe in control. Every day, a little more. People have given up vast swathes of it already, but it’s not enough and it never will be.”
“And you’re part of it, aren’t you.”
He looks at me honestly and answers simply, “Yes.”
“But you’ve decided not to kill me.”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that put you at risk?”
“Not if I can prove you are more controllable than your father was.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck. It’s only been a day and you’re already coming around. Imagine what you’ll be like in another week, another month.”
I don’t want to imagine that. I can’t imagine that. If I don’t escape his grasp, he’s right. I will be his. Entirely his. I might start to like him, maybe, even love him.
“Not going to happen.”
“Oh, it is going to happen. And soon.”
“Soon? Why?”
“Because certain people won’t trust you loose forever.”
Chapter Five
Darko
Days pass by and I train my pretty little captive to the best of my ability. She is sexually submissive, but otherwise she has endless attitude and spunk. If we were dating, I’d be falling for her hard, but I’m trying to claim her and that sass of hers is going to get her in so much trouble.
I don’t have endless amounts of time. I don’t have nearly enough of it. Five days in, and the Order wants an audience with Chloe. They want to see what I have done to her, and see if she is on her way to being a useful member of their collective.
I warn them that she is far from perfect, but I cannot put them off any longer. A date and time are set and a party is planned. I inform Chloe, who reacts as she always does, with a secret little smile and a promise to obey, which I do not believe even for a second.
* * *
Chloe
Tonight, I meet the murderers. Darko has fussed over me all day. He has cajoled, lectured, spanked, lectured again, and finally, dressed me up like his very own little doll. It is nice to be wearing clothing. It feels like an eternity since my body was covered.
He leads me into the gathering on his arm, and for a moment, I can almost pretend that this is a party like the thousands of society parties I have attended in the past. But the thoughts keep interjecting themselves into my brain.
The men milling about his house are the men responsible for my father’s death. These are the ones who wanted my death. And I have to stand here, smile, and impress them with my submissive obedience? Every cell in my body rebels at this meeting.