Throne of Truth

Chapter Five

Elle

SUNSHINE.

A new day.

No sleep.

No rest.

Only panic.

Greg shifted, his arm still locked around my middle, his skin against mine, his body sickeningly close.

Dawn had arrived, and I’d watched every painful minute of it as the sky switched from black to pink then pink to gold, basking the cabin, glittering on the lake through the windows.

It took all my willpower to stay calm and not give in to the panic gnawing at my bones.

How many more mornings would pass before I could get free?

Greg rolled over; the leash tethering me to him jerked my wrist. My skin was red and irritated from rope burn.

I grunted as he forced me to roll over, tucking me against his body. “Morning, beautiful.”

I bit my tongue and didn’t reply.

If I did, I’d spew curses and commands—neither of which would do me any good.

I had to hope that if I remained silent and obedient, he’d let me call Dad and ease his worry, so I remained parented and not an orphan.

The only good thing about Greg taking me was I didn’t have time to stew about Penn and his deception. I only had the brain capacity to currently hate Greg.

Penn will come later.

“I don’t care if you don’t speak, Elle. I rather like quiet women.” Unraveling the rope from his fist, he stood up and stretched. Morning wood once again speared his boxer-briefs.

He smirked, catching me looking. “That’s all yours the moment you’ve had a shower.” He bent over me, pressing his hands into the pillow on either side of my ears. “Can’t fuck you without washing you first. Who the hell knows if that bastard touched you last night.”

I fought the reply plastering itself over my face.

Penn had touched me.

He’d fucked me in the limo before I knew the truth. I’d believed he felt something for me while I felt something for him. I was excited, thinking he’d be honest and forthright and all the mistrust and lies would vanish like mist fading over the lake.

I’d begged for clarity.

Just not the clarity I’d been given.

My necklace had ruined those fantasies.

Grabbing my hand, Greg pulled me from the warm covers and into the crisp morning air. No heating meant goosebumps scattered over my flesh then layered with more as he leered at me. “All this time and we could've been waking up side by side, instead of working on different floors at Belle Elle.” His fingers traced my belly button. “Isn’t it nice?” He leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine.

I ripped my face away, not only because I had a phobia of morning breath but because he had no right, none, to kiss me.

“Let me go, Greg.” The first words I’d spoken in hours.

He grinned. “You mean untie this?” He tugged the twine, making my arm bounce.

“You know what I mean. Everything. Cut me loose, drive me home. This has gone on long enough.”

He shook his head. “You’re not leaving until you understand your place is by my side.”

“My place is running Belle Elle. With you in a prison cell.”

He chuckled, mirth bright in his green eyes rather than retribution. “You’ll change your mind the more you get to know me.”

I highly doubt it.

Carting me from the bedroom, he guided me into the bathroom and undid the rope around my wrist. “Get in the shower.”

I rubbed at my sore skin, backing up against the sink. “I’m not washing with you in here.”

“Oh yes, you fucking are.” He grabbed the edges of his boxer-briefs, pulling them down his legs. His cock sprung free, heavy and hard with red veins bulging on the sides. He wasn’t as big as Penn, but it looked angry.

Before I could move, he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. With quick fingers, he unhooked my bra.

My arms slammed over my chest, covering myself.

It didn’t do any good.

He snatched my arms away, making me teeter, bruising me as he ripped the straps down and tossed the bra into the hallway. He spun me back to face him. “Now the rest.”

“Go to hell.” I kept my arms over my chest, defending my modesty.

His gaze fell to my panties, a heated smirk on his lips. “Are you going to remove those or shall I?”

I backed up. “Greg...don’t.”

“Greg, don’t,” he mocked with a sneer. “Do you know how many years I’ve had to listen to you giving orders? Smiling at me over the dinner table with your holier-than-thou bitch face. Giving me commands at work when all I really wanted to do was fuck you.” He loomed over me. “You thought you hid your true feelings, but every time you looked at me, I knew. I saw your disdain. I knew you believed you were better than me—”

I slapped him.

I didn’t think it through. I just did it.

We both froze, equally shocked.

I hissed, “If that’s the bullshit you’re feeding yourself, then you’re completely screwed up. I never looked down on you, Greg. For most of our childhood, I enjoyed playing with you. But then you went and let jealousy corrupt—”

He grabbed my jaw, squeezing my sentence to a stop. “Jealousy? You think this is about jealousy?” He laughed with utmost frustration. “I’m not jealous of you, Elle. I don’t envy what you have.”

He brushed my lips with his thumb. “I don’t care that you’re one of the richest women in the world. That doesn’t intimidate me. What does intimidate me is some fucking loser thinking he can lie about being engaged to you just to get access to what you have.”