Chapter Seven
Daisy
My room in Mr. Langston’s condo was bigger than the apartment I grew up in. I'd spent my life in a twin size bed that took up most of my room, but the king size mattress and the four poster frame didn't even take up a quarter of the room. The dark maroon bedding with the thin delicate gold trim was far more decadent than anything that I had ever owned. There were more decorative pillows on my bed that I would ever need, than anyone would ever need, and there was so much padding on the mattress than I would need a step stool to climb up.
On the other side of the room, there was a full-sized matching red couch. Plush cushions, and again, way too many decorative pillows. One the other side of the wall, a large oak armoire, something that I'd never seen before, sat next to a matching dresser.
Two doors decorated the wall near the armoire. I tried opening the first—maybe a closet—but it was locked. Why would there be a locked door in my bedroom?
The second door led to the bathroom, half of which was take up just by the shower. It was big enough to fit at least six people comfortably, with a large soaking tub in the shower on the other side. The beautiful stone and tile work was captivating, but it was the rain faucet head in the middle that intrigued me. Water pressure was always an issue at my place. Standing under a shower of hot water with good pressure was a luxury I never thought that I'd have.
Turning around, I caught sight of my reflection in the large mirror. The thin diamond choker looked completely out of place with the rest of me. My dress, the one that Ralph insisted that I wear, was several years old. It was a little on the thin side and the thread was pulling. I wasn't comfortable in dresses, and only wore this one on first dates. I felt like a country bumpkin in this fancy and expensive place.
Was I supposed to wear the collar all the time? That’s what Mr. Langston had said, but surely I didn't have to sleep in it. Slowly, I reached up and unhooked it, instantly feeling better. The diamonds twinkled under the lights, and I knew that the damn thing cost more than I'd make in several years.
Just having something so expensive even nearby made me nervous, but wearing it?
That was terrifying.
What if I lost or broke it? Mr. Langston would definitely want this back after the month was over, wouldn’t he?
I closed the drains on the two sinks before slowly laying the collar down on the counter. It didn't look like it could fit down the drain, but being careful was better than explaining to Mr. Langston about losing his diamond necklace. If even one diamond went missing, I’d be paying for it for the rest of my life, and that didn’t seem like a great way to start off this arrangement.
Walking out of the bathroom, I went to the bedroom door to lock it. Even at home it was habit, and at least in this unfamiliar place a locked door would give me a little comfort.
Only, there was no lock.
Swallowing hard, I took a few steps back and stared at it. I knew what Mr. Langston expected from me, but he wasn't the kind of man to jump into my bed in the middle of the night, was he?
The screams of my mother echoed in my head, and my stomach clenched. Licking my lips, I tugged on the coffee table and pushed it up against the door. It wouldn't keep him out, but at least he couldn't surprise me.
Feeling a little more secure, I stripped out of my dress and pulled out a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt from my bag. I yanked them on quickly before climbing into the bed and pulling the blankets up to my neck. Despite the softness of the mattress and the warmth of the blankets, sleep wouldn't come easily.
When Ralph had said Mr. Langston was the CEO of a bank, I’d expected some old lecherous man, but he wasn't old. Forties, maybe. But sinfully handsome with gorgeous blue eyes that haunted me when I laid down. Thick dark hair, chiseled features, and a hard body. He ignited something in me that I’d never felt before, certainly never with Ralph, but that didn't dampen the fact that he bought me.
Confusion crawled through my veins, filled my head. Why would a man like that purchase a lover? Women probably threw themselves at him all the time. Why would he choose me? My face might be pretty, but I wasn't the kind of sophisticated and talented woman that he was probably used to. I wouldn't even begin to know how to please someone like that.
And that's what I was supposed to do, right? Please Mr. Langston?
God, I was in way over my head.
Under the satin sheets, I felt like royalty, but I knew my place in this household. If I had a title, it certainly wouldn't be Queen or Princess.
Whore. Slave. Those were more appropriate.
I wasn't much before, but this? Someone who could be bought? How had I fallen this low?
Even if Mr. Langston was handsome and wealthy, I knew that there was something dark lingering inside of him. I just needed to keep my head down, push through this next month, and be careful not to let him destroy me.
* * *
“Wake up.”
A cold voice that I couldn’t quite place broke through the thick haze of my uneasy sleep. I woke with a start, my heart pounding and breaths heavy. My early warning system hadn't been useful. I hadn’t heard him come in at all. Mr. Langston stood over me with a dark angry scowl on his face and my collar in his hands. “Did you really think that you could keep me out of this room? This is my house!” he hissed.
“No, that's not what I meant to do,” I whispered, scrambling to sit up in the bed. “I just—”
“I'm not done. You’re not allowed to speak yet. First you block the door, and then I find that you've taken the collar off when I told you not to. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't toss you out right now?” he growled.
I couldn’t breathe. He wanted to kick me out? My heart crashed against my ribs and tears pricked at my eyes. Was staying with this man really worth not being homeless? As much as I didn’t want to be here, I knew the truth. Being on the streets wasn’t safe for me at all.
Mr. Langston's heated gaze skimmed over my exposed skin, and I pulled the sheet up tighter against my body. Despite being fully clothed, I felt naked under his angry stare.
“I was afraid of breaking the collar if I slept in it. It looks really expensive. I'd never be able to pay you back,” I finally whispered.
His features didn't soften as he tossed the choker at me. “Put it on and leave it on. I don't give a damn if it breaks. I can afford a hundred of them without breaking a fucking sweat. And trust me when I tell you that if you try to bar the door again, you aren't going to like what happens next.”
Setting rules in his house was one thing, but threatening me was another. Anger burned my throat and I couldn’t stop myself from talking back.
“I wasn't trying to block the door,” the words burst out of me. “And if you'd let me speak, you'd know that. I just don't like being surprised. I only wanted the table there to be able to hear it moving and wake me up if you came in.”
Mr. Langston narrowed his eyes, jaw clenching. “I haven't given you a reason to be afraid of me, Daisy. Please me, and I promise, you'll like everything that I do to you. You'll want to leave your door wide open and be begging me for more. Do you understand?”
“No.” Hot tears burned my eyes. “I don't understand. I don't know what you want from me, and I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Finally, his shoulders relaxed, and he sighed. “Put your things in the armoire. I don’t want to see them while you’re here, and if I do, I’ll burn them. You'll only wear the clothes I have chosen. They’re on hangers for you. Underwear included.”
Panic swelled inside me. “What?”
“Be thankful that I don't strip you naked right now,” he muttered darkly. “I'm leaving for work. There’s a letter for you in the kitchen listing your duties for the day. I have a small library that you're welcome to as well as a DVD collection, and you may use the computer in the living too. Do not enter my bedroom until I have invited you, do not enter my office, and do not leave the penthouse. When I return tonight, I expect you to be dressed for dinner and have our meal set out.”
Before I could ask for more clarification, he stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Holding my breath, I scrambled off the bed and peered out the window, not daring to move until he ducked out from under the awning and entered the back seat of a dark car.
The diamonds glittered in my hand. I thought about refusing to put it on until he returned tonight, a small act of rebellion, but for all I knew, the jerk had video cameras up in the condo and could see me.
The thought shook me to my very core. Opening the doors to the wardrobe, I draped the sheet between them and ducked inside. There. Now the only way he could see is if there was a camera directly above me. Hastily, I clasped the collar back around my neck and looked at the clothes.
To my surprise, it was nothing demeaning. No French maid uniforms or leather-clad dominatrix outfits. There was a daunting amount of lingerie and quite a few gowns. When the hell was I supposed to wear a gown? Flipping through them, I chose a pair of black capris and a loose fitting off-the-shoulder blue blouse. It was one of the most casual outfits in the wardrobe, and it was still nicer than anything I had ever owned.
A quick tour of the bathroom showed that it was stocked with anything that I would need and more. I brushed my teeth and headed downstairs with hesitant steps.
Last night had been so terrifying for me that I'd barely registered my surroundings. Mr. Langston's penthouse might be a bachelor pad, but everything screamed money. It was simply furnished with the surfaces bare except for a few unique and foreign trinkets here and there. No pictures or personal mementos, and not a speck of dust.
Mr. Langston was obviously a man who liked things clean and orderly. I couldn't imagine him getting rid of his maid just to have some privacy with me.
Oh, right. I was supposed to be the maid.
The letter he left for me in the kitchen had a list of cleaning instructions, but also laid out exactly what I was supposed to wear tonight when he got home.
At seven sharp.
At least a chef was dropping a meal off so I didn't have to cook. I’m sure my cooking wasn’t up to par with what Mr. Langston was used to eating. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to eat ramen or fried ham with eggs, that’s for sure.
Sigh, eee c mbedo n o tre ntecenn.
The doorbell rang at quarter to seven. I'd just finished slipping the red velvet dress over my body. It plunged low over my cleavage and the slit rode higher up my right thigh than what felt comfortable. The dress fell to my ankles and hooked at the back of the neck, exposing my entire back.
Dinner. Nervously, I ran barefoot down the stairs and opened the door. An older blonde woman stood on the other side with a disapproving frown on her face. Her gaze fell to the diamonds around my neck, and her frown deepened. “So you're the reason that I have to cook my meals elsewhere and bring them here. Food is not meant to travel. It's meant to be enjoyed the minute it comes out of the oven or off the stove.”
“I'm sorry,” I said instantly. “I don't mean to be a bother.”
She rolled her eyes. “God. Submissive as well. That boy will never learn.” She brushed past me, and I was still hung up on the fact that she'd just called Mr. Langston a boy. “Are you at least capable of closing the door?”
“Of course.” I accidentally shut the door to hard, and as it slammed, causing us both to jump. “Sorry.”
“Christ. Obviously your looks are your only good feature.”
She was a real peach. Still, if she was going to be delivering the food, I should be friendly with her. If Mr. Langston kept me locked up in the suite for the next month, she might be my only human interaction aside from that intimidating man. “My name is Daisy.”
“You won't be around long enough for me to learn you name,” the woman snapped.
“Okay.” Wiping my hands on my dress, I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she started setting up the table. “I'd still like to know your name.”
“Suzie. Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me? Napkins are in the drawer by the refrigerator, and silverware is in the drawer next to it.” She placed containers that smelled like heaven on the table, and I watched as she unpacked more food that the two of us could possibly eat in one night. “Well?” Suzie snapped, looking over her shoulder at me. “Go on, girl. We don't have all night. Brick is not going to happy if I'm still here when he returns, and he's always prompt.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“It's like every word out of your mouth is an apology. Why in God's name would Brick take an interest in you? He's brought some stupid girls over, but at least they acted like they had some brains.”
Narrowing my eyes, I clenched the knife I’d just grabbed from the drawer. “You're being rude,” I said quietly. “You're making assumptions, and don't even know me. You apparently don't plan to get to know me, so if that's the case, then just keep your opinions to yourself. I didn't choose any of this. I met Mr. Langston for the first time yesterday, and I'm still trying to figure out what I'm even doing here.”
Suzie snorted. “You should be able to take one look at that dress and realize what you're doing here.”
Morbidly embarrassment, I turned my head so she didn't see my cheeks flush. “I haven't really gotten the specifics on that part yet.”
“Specifics? You do what Brick tells you to. You spread those legs when he tells you to. You bend over when he tells you to. You open that pretty little mouth when he tells you to, and he spreads those cheeks when he wants to. What's so difficult to grasp about that?”
Cheeks? My eyes widened in panic, and I turned around. “I don't really have a lot of experience in any of that. Any experience, really.”
The chef paused, another container halfway out of her bag, and stared at me. “No experience? Are you telling me that you're a goddamn virgin? How the hell did you end up here?”
“I'm not really sure. My boyfriend made some sort of deal with Mr. Langston…”
“Your boyfriend?” Suzie slammed the container down on the counter. “What the hell is wrong with you girl? Your boyfriend doesn't own you.”
“I know he doesn't. It's just that I don't have any place to live, and Ralph said that if I do this for him, we can live together.” Gathering the silverware in my hand, I walked to the table. “Ralph is a solid guy. He's got a good job, and he doesn't drink a lot or do any hard drugs. He's the kind of guy that you want to be with, you know?”
“Uh-huh. Ralph sounds like a great guy. Selling his girlfriend to a complete stranger.”
“It's not like that,” I said, carefully placing the silverware on the table. “We both struggle for money, and it's a good solid base to work from. I mean, what's a month if we're financially secure.”
“A month, and apparently, your virginity,” Suzie pointed out. “I assume that must be something that you value if you've held on to it for this long. Or were you just waiting to sell it to the highest bidder?”
I gasped. “Of course not! What a horrible thing to say! I just haven't felt that it was right, yet.”
“Your boyfriend wasn't the right guy, but Brick is?”
I didn't really want to talk about this anymore. “Look, you said that you didn't want to get to know me, and frankly, who I decide to give it up for really isn't any of your business, is it?”
For the first time since she walked in, Suzie smiled. “Good. You hold on to that fire, Daisy. You're going to need it.” She handed me some plates and put the food in the oven. “I'm just keeping it warm, but don't let it stay in the oven for too long.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? It can still overcook!”
“No, I mean why should I hold on to the fire?”
The chef shook her head, and I saw the pity in her eyes. “Because I've seen the women that Brick leaves behind. They're just empty shells, and that was just after a few nights.”
After a few nights? What the hell was going to happen to me after a month?