I climb into his car and the driver closes the door. The sound is just a soft click, but it makes me jump. Now I know for certain. I can no longer fool myself. There will be no escape. There is nowhere to run or hide. I have to repay my debt. It is either submit to him for three months, or find myself in prison for years. Looking at his coldly furious expression, I know without any doubt that he will make sure that it will be the latter if I ever try to run from him again.

I slump against the seat. My breath comes out in a long sigh. It feels as if I have been holding this breath in for two years. I have been running so long I am almost at peace knowing I’ve been caught. There’ll be no more looking over my shoulder for this cold, ruthless man; or running away from him in my dreams. I turn to look at him.

In the dimness of the car his eyes glitter like they are reflections of billowing smoke on glass. He’s livid. I wonder if he’s been angry these past two years. I pull my purse closer towards me; as if unconsciously shielding myself from his gaze. He snaps his fingers, and my eyes flicker towards the glass partition smoothly moving upwards.

“Where did you get that god-awful wig?”

Surprised, I touch my wig.

“Take it off,” he orders.

I drag it off my head and hold it in my hands.

“Were you running away from me … again?” he asks. His voice is cool and calm; almost pleasant. It makes my heart beat even faster. I don’t remember him ever sounding this way. For a man with such burning intensity, the sweet almost amused way he is speaking is unsettling.

I shake my head automatically.

“I told you I’d be waiting for you at the front of the building. Yet here you are, appearing from the back entrance.”

I know that he’s never liked being taken for a fool. Continuing this lie would be pointless, especially since it’s pretty obvious exactly what I was up to.

“I’m really sorry,” I whisper.

“Are you really, little Chelsea?”

I bite my lower lip.

His gaze dips down to my mouth before rising up to meet my eyes. He raises one thick eyebrow. “Perhaps you enjoy annoying me.”

I shake my head. “No.”

He looks at me curiously. “Were you trying to provoke me into punishing you?”

“I wasn’t,” I gasp, my fingers clutching my wig.

Thorne appears to lose interest in the conversation. He taps a button and the limousine purrs to life. The car moves forward as if it is floating on air. I study him intensely so that I can be a step ahead of him if I need to be, noticing every movement his body makes. He turns his face towards me, jaw clenched.

“Come here, Chelsea,” he commands. His words are like ice and the hairs on my neck stand on end.

Unsure what to do, I lick my lips nervously. I hate to admit it, but mixed in with fear is pure excitement. No one makes me feel like he does. When he walks into a room the very air crackles with electricity and anticipation.

From the first moment I saw him, I wanted him with a clawing need. I lusted for the feel of his lips on my throat. I hungered for him to open my legs and take what he wanted. As time went on and he looked at me with nothing but cold professionalism I needed to completely submit to him, but always the burning intensity of my craving scared the shite out of me. I thought I could tame the desire. After I left, I thought it would go away with time, but no, it’s just become worse and worse.

No matter what I did or where I went the lust for him never went away. I thought of him every day and dreamed of him at night. Sometimes, like a drug addict, I gave in and searched the net for stories of him. There was almost never anything. Why would there be? I knew what he was like.

He locked himself away in his high security home, building his AI. The only thing I gleaned about him was his AI was due for an unveiling in two days at a secret location in London.

All the invited guests were told only to keep the morning of that date free. The location would only be revealed individually to them, the time set to coincide with exactly how long it would take them to reach the secret location from their addresses. I knew all of London was abuzz. Those that received an invitation have cancelled all their plans in anticipation. This reveal is supposed to change everything in robotics.

“Why?” I whisper now, staring into those mysterious, unknowable alligator eyes.

“Come … here …” he repeats, a slight edge to his voice.

My dark past rises up, and I don’t want to obey. I have worked so hard to make sure I’ll never be in a position of helplessness again, but another part of me, a secret part, wants—no, wants is far too weak a word—hungers to submit to him. And that makes me afraid of him. I’m terrified he has the power to unhinge me. To callously undo the carefully painted mask I show to the world.

“Thorne, please…”

“I’m not going to ask again.” His voice is cold and clipped.

My heart starts racing. Every self-preservation instinct in me kicks back. My hands clench to stop myself from lashing out, but I agreed to this. If I am to survive intact I have to learn to save my energy, keep the soft core of myself hidden. Fighting him every step of the way would eventually expose me. I can do this and still stay strong. I am strong. It will take more than him to make me fall apart.