“Are you all right?”
She sniffled a little. “What do you care?” She caught herself only after the words had left her mouth and looked over, afraid that might have earned her a punishment. But he didn’t seem to care about her outburst.
Anton lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Just making conversation. I thought you said you were leaving him.”
“I am.”
“Why? You just told him you loved him. Were you lying?”
“Why do you care about my personal life all of a sudden?”
“Just answer the question.”
“We don’t make each other happy. I’m an obligation to him, and he’s not what I need.”
“I don’t believe you have the slightest notion what you need.”
A few minutes later the car rolled up to a house big enough to qualify as a mansion. Could Dome earn him that much money?
Anton must have read something off her expression because he said, “The spa is only a small portion of my income. My real money is in something else.”
Before she had time to process his response, an iron gate opened to let them in.
She and Michael lived in a very large house, but this was . . . well, it was ridiculous. No one needed this level of luxury, especially if they lived alone. Which Anton must, if he was inviting her over to have kinky sex.
Vivian imagined he must have a fully-equipped dungeon in a house that big. Maybe more than one. She shivered at the possibilities.
He helped her out of the car and led her up the front steps while her anxiety mounted higher. She didn’t expect the door to open from the inside, or for a large, tall man who looked like a cross between a butler and a bouncer to be standing on the other side.
A mop of blond hair fell over the man’s eyes. He looked surprised. “Isn’t it a little early?”
Anton pushed Vivian inside before she had the chance to catalog her situation, before she had the chance to scream. Not that anyone could have heard her on such a large, rolling estate.
She looked back to Anton, needing reassurance that the warning bells going off in her head loudly enough to give her a headache, were just anxiety over her decision to come back when she could have been free.
His eyes held annoyance, but it wasn’t directed at her. He was focused instead on the butler/bouncer. “I had to move the timetable up on this one. She’s too unpredictable to control from a distance. It’s not worth the risk to play the game out as usual. My instincts keep us out of prison and my instincts say, now.”
“Shall I show her to her suite, then?”
Anton nodded.
9
The stranger gripped Vivian’s arm and led her through the mansion. She looked behind her to Anton, as if the pleading in her eyes would move a man who had obviously done this before. But he was the devil she knew.
Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it against her temples. The man led her through the entryway in front of a massive staircase, then down a long, ornately-decorated hallway and unlocked a door near the end.
The room was sparsely decorated, much like the hideaway at Dome had been. There was a full-sized bed with a black duvet. Chains hung behind it. A flat screen television was attached to the opposite wall. There was a large, black trunk at the foot of the bed. A small bathroom stood off to the side.
Vivian looked up to see a security camera near the ceiling. What the hell was this place?
The walls were a dark stone that reminded her of a dungeon. Maybe it was a dungeon. Her own personal dungeon. She could hear faint sounds coming from next door. Moans, whimpers, and cries of “Please, Sir”.
She struggled futilely in the arms of the stranger as the adrenaline surged through her.
“That’s enough,” he said. “I know you need to feel like you did something to get away, but all you’ll earn is
punishment. We’ve had hundreds of girls in his house over the years. And not a single one of them has escaped us. You won’t be the first.”
The man’s accent was local, his voice deep and strangely soothing despite the situation. The fight drained out of her and she turned to look into his eyes. Kind eyes. Too kind for this.
“Please, I don’t belong here. You don’t have to be like Anton. You can help me get away.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You aren’t the first to use that line on me, either. You may be here sooner than he normally brings them, but Anton never brings a girl to this house who doesn’t belong here.”
He guided her to the bed and locked the chain around her wrist. “This is just to keep you from rushing the door every time it’s opened. The chain will reach to the bathroom when you need to go. We aren’t complete monsters.”
Her lip trembled as she stared at him. Not complete monsters? Who let the crazies out of the asylum to create that platitude?
After he secured her and slipped the key into his pocket, he got up to leave. “Someone will be with you in just a moment. Try to relax.”
As if relaxing was an option in her life at this point.
“Anton?”
He shook his head. “No.” The door clicked softly behind him and she was left with her self-recriminations.
How fucking stupid. Why did I go back? For a few cheap thrills? It was all fine and good that she was suddenly willing to explore her darker side, the secret needs and desires she’d pushed below the surface of her sterile, Stepford existence for the past several years. But couldn’t she have left Michael and made those explorations in a safer environment? With someone who wasn’t a deranged criminal?
There were kinky clubs with rules and safeties in place. She could have asked around, found someone safe to play with.
She tried to think back to earlier in the day when she’d looked in the mirror and decided she was finished playing the victim and the whore. And now? She was going to actually be the victim and the whore. No more playing.
“Michael, I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the empty room.
He’d return, and she’d be gone. Then what? Would he ever give up searching for her? Would he make the connection? She dropped her head in her hands thinking about the journal she’d filled then burned. The only clue to her whereabouts, and she’d destroyed it.
Although the fantasy of being rescued by Michael was nice for a moment, she couldn’t imagine the shame of him finding her here. Even if it was only partly her fault. Even if she hadn’t asked for most of it. Maybe it was best the journal was ash, to save her from one more indignity.
She got off the bed and tested the length of the chain. The bathroom had a simple shower and tub combo, a toilet, and sink. There was nothing special or extra, nothing she could use as a weapon. Though with a chain locked around her wrist, fighting seemed pointless and only likely to make the situation worse.
Vivian returned to the room and sat on the bed, scooting against the wall. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs as she anxiously watched the door, afraid of who might come in, and what he might do with her.
She didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes passed before the door creaked open to reveal a blonde wearing a black silk robe and a delicate leather collar with a silver ring protruding from it.
“Janette?”