Chapter 8

Kristen

Fuck Leo.

Fuck Oberon Lawson.

Fuck all those dirty perverts who were waving money in the air as though I was a nothing but a sex doll that needed an attitude adjustment.

I thought I was going to get laid tonight, not roofied and kidnapped and threatened before being taken away to this stranger’s house without being told what he’s going to do to me when I get there.

So, if I was crying, it’d be totally understandable as to why.

But I’m not fucking crying.

I’m not.

It’s allergies. He clearly got his grass cut earlier, and my eyes are watering from all the pollen in the air or whatever.

I keep my head turned away from Leo, trying not to let him look at me now that he’s finally decided to pay attention to me again. How can he just be showing me around his house like I’m a guest and not his new personal fucking slave?

Having my favorite food in the fridge is not going to make up for the fact he just told me my life and freedom are only worth two million dollars.

“I’m not crying,” I repeat again, trying to spit the words through the gag.

“Of course. I must have a salty leak in my ceiling.” Leo sighs and takes a step toward me.

He’s made it clear we’re no longer playing a sexy game of cat and mouse, and that he thinks I’m just some stupid little girl who expects the whole world to fall at my feet.

So, as his hands reach out toward me, my whole body stiffens and every muscle in my body tenses. I might be handcuffed, but I can still kick off my shoes and run as fast as I can.

I’d just need to get to the end of the driveway and hope someone sees me—who wouldn’t pity a young girl in handcuffs and a torn-up dress?

Leo’s hands lift up to my face, his fingertips gently brushing my cheeks and wiping at the dried tear tracks from where my eyes had been watering on the motorbike.

What was Leo thinking, anyway, putting me on a motorbike without a helmet? With the speed he was driving at, of course my eyes are watering. Now he has the balls to accuse me of crying.

But he gently removes the gag from my mouth, dropping it so that it hangs around my neck, limp.

“I’m not crying,” I repeat, now that he can hear me better. “My eyes are just watering.”

“Whatever you say, Kristen.” Leo nods again, though clearly, he doesn’t believe me, but he looks down to my bound wrists.

He reaches into his trouser pocket and removes the tiny set of keys from earlier, unlocking the handcuffs and taking them away from me.

Leo looks down at the thick red lines where Lawson had tied them too tightly and is silent for a moment. I pull my hands away and wipe at my face and under my eyes, trying not to smudge my makeup any further.

Now that I can breathe easier, I take a shuddering breath and try to stop myself from crying—I don’t want to give Leo the satisfaction of seeing that I’m scared. He won’t get the chance to take pleasure in how the realization that I might never see my family again is beginning to wash over my whole body.

I don’t want him to know that my heart is sinking deep into my stomach and pushing bile up into the back of my throat and that it’s burning at my tonsils. If I hadn’t been crying, I would definitely be on the verge of throwing up all over Leo’s shoes and down his crisp white walls.

I feel my chest heave, but it’s not champagne and canapés that are bubbling up and about to burst. No, it’s tears.

I can’t fight it as salty tears bubble over behind my eyes and break over my cheeks. They’re wet and hot on my skin, and I feel them dripping down off my chin and onto my chest.

Leo looks up at my face again, and I turn my head away.

But he still pulls me, somewhat roughly, to his chest, pressing my face against his chiseled muscles while his other arm wraps around my shoulders, gently patting me in an attempt to be distant, yet comforting.

“Look,” Leo says stiffly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Sure, you don’t.”

“I don’t,” he says, more forcefully.

“Why—why should I believe you? You’re in the same side as all those other perverts back there.”

“Because I’m not, Kristen. I didn’t like that just as much as you didn’t.”

“You weren’t the one on sale.”

I throw that back in his face with as much venom as I can muster. Leo can bitch about me all he wants, but I’m the one standing here in my underwear.

“No, I wasn’t on sale today,” Leo says, his voice gruff again, “but let’s not pretend I haven’t been selling myself for Oberon Lawson in other ways for a lot longer than you have.”

It’s a tone of voice that tells me not to argue with him.

I’ve always been a sucker for a bad boy—but with a lifestyle like mine, I’ve met so many who’re just rich kids pretending to be the rebel. It’s quickly becoming apparent that Leo isn’t pretending at being bad; he’s genuinely dangerous.

“At least you’re going to be free eventually.”

I lift my head up to look at him as he speaks, but Leo’s looking out into the rest of his house and not making eye contact with me. I could almost feel sorry for him, but the potential for freedom chokes my tears, and I stare at him in silence for a little bit.

“You’re going to let me go?”

Leo laughs once, and it’s hollow.

“No. I can’t.” He looks down at me and watches my face as he sees the hope die and anger takes its place. “What did you think was going to happen, Kristen?”

“Well, I was kind of hoping that you’d bring me back here or better yet to my own house, and then I’d never have to see you again.”

Leo scoffs at me and shakes his head. “You really do expect the whole world to fall at your feet, don’t you?”

“No!” I pull myself away from him. “But I didn’t expect to get kidnapped at my friend’s wedding and then auctioned off like cattle. The only thing ‘falling at my feet’ today is this dress.”

I lift the skirt and throw it back down again, where it hangs limp at the sides of my body, to remind him.

“I can’t just let you go right now, Kristen, not twenty minutes after I just gave Lawson two million dollars for you. I can’t lose face in front of them, or it’s definitely not going to be worth it.”

“Then, what are you going to do with me, master?” I say sarcastically, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “How can I make it worth your while?”

For a second, Leo says nothing, but he looks me up and down hungrily, then he blinks and looks back up into my eyes, briefly annoyed. But I can’t tell if it’s aimed at me or himself.

“Don’t joke about that, it’s not funny.”

“Well, if we don’t joke, we’ll cry.”

“Aren’t you already crying?” Leo raises an eyebrow and looks at me in disbelief.

I sniffle and snap my head away from him. “I’m not crying! It’s allergies!”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Leo rolls his eyes. “But that’s the point. As much as I can’t let you leave yet, I don’t want to keep you in my house against your will, especially if it’s going to give you ‘allergies.’”

He says the word allergies in air quotes, and I take some restraint and stop myself from sticking my tongue out at him like a toddler.

“So then, what’re you going to do with me?”

“I’ll have to figure it out.”

Leo moves closer toward the stairs, using his body to shuffle me along with him as I step out of his way.

“In the meantime, you should shower…get the stench of those assholes off you. I’ll look around for some clothes.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna wear all the stuff your one-night stands left behind?”

“If that’s all I can find, then yes.”

Leo smirks at me cockily, probably enjoying the thought of seeing me in whatever thong some girl left here as a token for him to remember her by. I just hope it’s clean when he gives it to me.

“Go on, then. Upstairs, straight ahead. Towels and stuff are in there already.”

He nudges me up the stairs, and I go, feeling his eyes watch and admire me from all angles as I climb up to the top.

Once I’m sure I’m alone, I shrug off the jacket and leave it on the floor outside the door before locking myself inside. As I unstrap my bra and step out of my panties, it feels like I’m letting the weight off my shoulders a little bit.

I step into the water as steam fills the room and before I can catch myself, I moan.

Fuck, I needed this.