“I can’t get into details, but…”
Three short beeps signal the call ending. I pull the phone from my ear, cursing softly, prepared to call her back. How could she hang up on me?
As it turns out, she didn’t hang up on me. I no longer have a signal. I don’t have Wi-Fi, either. I turn the phone off, then turn it on again, but that doesn’t change anything. I might as well be holding a toy in my hand. It’s useless.
What is this? What’s happening? No way did the bill go unpaid since my account is connected to Mom’s, and she would never let her cell phone get cut off. What, then? Of all the times for something like this to happen. Hopeless rage bubbles in my chest until I have to press my face to a pillow and scream or else risk shattering into a million pieces.
The unlocking of the door startles me. I assumed everybody was still in bed, but it’s only Colt. Since when am I relieved at the sight of him? Oh right, since his father got home. Nothing in his expression reveals anything of what happened yesterday. There’s no acknowledgment in his glance, no embarrassment or guilt. “Dad wants to talk downstairs.”
I frantically blink back the tears that spring to my eyes before following him out of the room and down the hall. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to look at him today. At least, not this early. What will it be this time? How will he humiliate me this morning? How will he use me? I might as well be on my way to my execution. Part of me wishes I was.
James and Nix are already sitting at the dining room table, though there isn’t any food laid out. I take a seat at the far end, as far away from James as I can get, and he doesn’t seem to care. He, too, looks just the same as ever and sounds just the same. Like nothing truly evil took place yesterday.
“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he murmurs, folding his hands on top of the table. “Calling your grandmother.”
How the hell does he know I did that? What, is he tracking my phone somehow? I don’t even know how it’s possible, but it has to be, or else how would he know? I was speaking so softly that Grandma couldn’t hear me. How could he? This is a wealthy, powerful man. For all I know, he installed something on my phone before the wedding. He might even have done it through our account with the phone company. I don’t have the first clue.
“Our business is our business,” he continues, speaking over my internal questions. “That means what happens behind these walls stays here. It does not leave this house. Do you understand?”
Do I? I certainly understand why he wouldn’t want me telling anybody about what goes on, but that doesn’t mean I understand why it’s happening. He’s waiting for an answer, so all I do is nod, staring down at the tablecloth rather than look at him.
“Have you ever heard of a conservatorship?” he continues. “I have already spoken with your mother on the topic. I would like to apply for one in order to take control of your future going forward.”
That surprises me enough that I look up at him. “Wait. I don’t understand. What does that mean?”
His indulgent smile turns my stomach. “It’s all a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo,” he explains, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand all of it. Suffice it to say, a conservatorship gives me control over your finances, your educational decisions, everything. Every decision you make would instead be made by me. Where you live. Whether or not you work and where you work. All of your healthcare decisions, as well. All of it would be overseen by me. You would make no decision without my consent.”
I would be completely under his control. Why is he doing this? Why me? “You don’t have to do that,” I whisper. “I’m not unstable or anything like that. I won’t do anything harmful to myself. I’ve never even been in trouble. Why would you—”
“Because I said so, that’s why. Because I said that’s what I’m going to do, and your mother didn’t seem to have any problem with it.” No big surprise there. I’m sure she would agree to anything he suggested, so long as she gets to enjoy the privileges of being his wife. Does she know? Does she suspect anything? Even if he showed her who he is, I’m sure she would still deliberately turn a blind eye. Anything, so long as she lives the life she thinks she deserves. She would even hand her daughter over to him. I would put nothing past her.
“You can’t do this,” I whisper. I know it’s probably not true, but it’s what I’m thinking. “You can’t. Why would you do that?”
“Because I can. I most definitely can. You had a tough few years. It’s hard on someone mentally, you know?” I do know, but this? Fuck. “You forget, one of us is a lawyer, and it isn’t you. If I need to manufacture a reason, I will, but I don’t need to. I would advise you against telling me what I can and can’t do, Leni.”
“You can’t do this.” I repeat, but this time my voice is weaker and trails off at the end.
“But cheer up,” he continues. “Things don’t have to be that bleak. I’m ready to make a deal with you.”
“What kind of deal?” This can’t be anything good.
And it isn’t. “For the next few days, you will do what I want. Everything I want. You will submit to me, be available to me whenever I desire, and you will offer no resistance.”
I don’t need to ask what sort of submission he’s referring to. He’s already shown me.
“You do this until your mother returns, and you can go to school.” Oh, fuck me, I didn’t even consider my education to be in jeopardy here. I didn’t imagine he would go that far. I should know better already. “I’ll even pay for everything. Your dorm room, fees, books, whatever your scholarship doesn’t cover. I’ll take care of it. But only if I have your full participation between now and your mother’s return.”
What do I do? Say no? And what happens to me after that? I don’t want to think about it, but I’m pretty sure my future would involve nothing but humiliation, being forced to do whatever he wants, and living under his thumb while he makes every single decision about my life. Where I go, what I do, who I see. I won’t even be able to go to the doctor on my own without him having a say in it.
He’s got me where he wants me. And the smug bastard knows it, smiling wide, pleased with himself. “What’s it going to be?” he prompts when I can’t squeeze a single word out of my tightened throat. “It’s up to you.”
“Okay,” I whisper as his face goes blurry, thanks to the tears I can’t hold back.
CHAPTER25
Imight have agreed to James’s offer—which really wasn’t an offer, more like an ultimatum—but that doesn’t mean I get free run of the house. “You were still a bad girl,” he reminded me after we finished our little meeting this morning. “Bad girls have to be punished.”
That means no phone and no internet. Somehow, he shut that down, too. Whether it’s just my machine that’s affected or the entire house, I don’t know. I find it hard to believe the guys would be okay with having their internet taken away, though.