I arch my back and examine myself. My nipple piercings look good. The area is still a bit red, but no sign of infection. I perform the aftercare per Logan’s instructions and soak my breasts in a sea salt solution. Logan also left a can of saline wash with orders to mist my nipples several times a day. If I don’t, he says he’ll punish me and oversee the aftercare himself.
The threats make me smile. If he has his way, the piercings will heal perfectly, and I’ll always remember last night, his claim. He’s making sure he’s always a part of me.
Even if I take out the piercings, he’ll always be a part of me. Permanently. But then, he would have been without the piercings, anyway.
As I return to the bedroom, my phone chirps from the drawer I tossed it in. I’ve been ignoring it—sending Rachel the bare minimum of texts to keep her from calling the cops. Should I take a picture of my nipples and send it to her? I grin at the thought.
The phone screen tells me she’s called three times already this morning. I quickly sober. She’s probably not in the mood to hear about my sex life.
Time to face reality. I click the call button and wander to a seat by the fire. I’m naked but for a towel around my waist. Logan’s trained me to feel comfortable in the buff. Yet another thing for Rachel and I to giggle about during our next girl’s night.
Rachel picks up on the second ring. “Oh thank gods,” she gasps. “I have good news, and I have bad news.”
I rub my forehead. “Go ahead.”
“The good news is...Adam hasn’t bothered you these past few days.”
She’s right. He’s been quiet. Not a call, not even a text.
“What’s the bad news?”
“Well...the reason he’s not bothering you is he’s busy planning your engagement party.”
I almost drop the phone. “What?!” I start to pace. “Shit, Rachel, that is bad news.”
“Um, that’s not the bad news. I kinda might have promised him you’d be there. You know, at your own engagement party.”
I groan and collapse into a chair. A hoard of workmen have moved into my head, and they must be doing demolition, because my head is pounding.
“I know,” Rachel whispers. “I couldn’t stop him. I could only buy time. He’s left you alone because he thinks you’re resting up and getting ready for the ball.”
“A ball? You mean the engagement party?”
“He kinda invited everyone in Olympus. At least, everyone who matters.”
Meaning: the rich and famous and powerful. The jackhammering in my skull increases.
“The board?”
“Yep.”
“The donors?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Rachel agrees. “I couldn’t stop him. When I wouldn’t give him your location, he was going to track your cellphone and show up to surprise you.”
I clutch the phone. I am having a heart attack. There’s no other way to describe this tightness in my chest.
“Daphne?”
Breathe, just breathe.
“Okay, Rachel. Thank you. When is the ball?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Of course it is.” I can’t react with shock—I have no more to give. “Can you get a dress and stylist ready?”
“You’re going?”
“Of course I am.” What better time to break off my engagement? Not ideal, but it has to be done.
It’s time to finally stand up to Adam.
Ten minutes later I knock on the library door. I’m dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a brand new sports bra cradling my breasts. Feels weird to be wearing clothes.
Logan’s reading a paper, ignoring my approach. I almost go to my knees, but decide against it. We need to have this conversation as equals.
“Logan, I need to talk to you about something.”
He lowers the paper and blinks at my clothed form. His ice-blue gaze pierces me. His mask is white today. “I think you mean, ‘Master.’”
But I don’t lower my head. “Yes, you’re Master, but you’re also more than that. You’re Logan and I’m Daphne. And I need to be able to talk to you.”
I walk forward to the table and climb onto his lap. His jaw flexes and his hands come to my hips. For a second, I’m not sure if he wants to toss me off or not, but then his hands start to massage my flesh. Oh, his touch feels so good. I want to melt into him and languish in his touch. I want to go back to last night when he held me in his arms and it felt like he was beginning to trust me.
But no, I have to stay strong. This has to be said.
So I hurry to get it out all at once. “Adam’s planning an engagement party. I just found out. It’s tomorrow.”
Logan’s frozen to stone underneath me. And his voice is ice when he asks, “Are you looking for my permission?”
“What? Gods, no! I’m telling you I need to go break it off with him. To his face. It all got out of hand. I never said yes—”
“Then how did his ring get on your finger?”
Logan hoists me by my waist and deposits me on the floor. Apparently he can’t stand my touch or proximity anymore because he prowls to the far side of the room.
“No. I forbid it. If you want your father’s patents, you aren’t to leave the grounds.”
He’s lashing out like a wounded animal.
I approach Logan with my head held high. “I was weak then but I’m strong enough now. I know I am.” All I can do is reiterate what I said last night and pray that he’s strong too. Strong enough to believe in me. In us. “You’ve shown me my own strength. You’ve let me explore who I am and who I want to be. I know my mind and what I want.”
I reach out a hand to touch his cheek. “And it was never Adam.”
He still flinches when I say Adam’s name.
“I don’t trust him,” he growls, his eyes narrowing behind his mask.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
His jaw tightens again and I see the conflict in his eyes as he finally says, “I’m trying to.”
Oh, Logan. What happened to this man that’s made it so hard for him to trust? But he’s trying. He just said so and I’ve seen it firsthand. It means so, so much. It means that there’s a chance for us.
So I kneel on the floor at his feet and bow my head. And utter one simple word. “Master.”
Twenty-One
Present Day
Logan
She’s so beautiful and perfectly submissive. Or is it all an act? The constant question that tortures me.
Her request has taken me off guard.
But she came to you. She didn’t try to hide or run off behind your back. And she wants to break the engagement. And the reality is, last night things shifted. I swore I saw the truth shining in her eyes. Can I trust it? Can I trust my own judgment when it comes to her?
At some point, there has to be a leap of faith. She’s sure as hell asking me to leap, wanting to go to this fucking engagement party. But what she said, about being strong now… Will I be weak when she’s strong?
She’s continually abandoned herself to me and put herself in my hands, so bravely.