Zeke studies Julian carefully and then my reaction to his words.
My fist tightens around the robe until my knuckles are white. Anger heats my cheeks and straightens my back until I’m at eye level with Julian in my heels. But fear—fear licks at my heart.
Julian notices the anger.
But Zeke, he notices the fear.
“Yes, I couldn’t resist her,” Zeke says. The way he says it seems like I’m the one with the power, but he’s just teasing. It’s clear he doesn’t plan on letting me have any.
Julian’s attention flickers back to Zeke as Zeke walks in front of me.
I exhale a small breath when Julian can no longer get a direct view of my body. I don’t know why Zeke is standing in front of me. Did he see the way Julian was looking at me? Is Zeke possessive? Does he not want to share me? Or is he protecting me?
“Oscar seems to think I’m the man for the job. I’ll have the deal closed and the shipment handled by the end of the month,” Zeke says.
“Yes, Oscar told me. It seems that by buying the slut, you ensured your loyalty to him. Especially since you were the highest bidder of the night,” Julian says.
“As I’ve said before, I’m the best. I do good work. You have nothing to worry about. These house calls aren’t necessary,” Zeke says.
Julian steps closer to Zeke, but I realize it’s so he can look at me, not him. “I didn’t stop by because I didn’t believe you could do your job. I consider you a friend, Zeke. I thought we could discuss how our nights went over a drink and enjoy your new pet.”
That word—pet. It’s like being pummeled with bullets when he says that word. I hate it. I never thought I could hate a word, but I hate that word.
Zeke laughs, completely unaffected and unaware of how Julian is gazing at me like I’m his, not Zeke’s. I see the promise in Julian’s eyes; he will come for me. He will remind me of our night together. He isn’t finished with me.
“Goodnight, Julian.”
Julian looks from me to Zeke. He’s been dismissed—without an explanation of why he can’t stay.
My mouth gapes. It’s clear Zeke is currently working for Julian, but he doesn’t let Julian boss him around. He’s his own man, with his own desires and own control on life.
Julian frowns, but he doesn’t argue with Zeke. He’ll save his fight for another night. At least, that’s what his eyes promise me.
Fuck.
Zeke doesn’t walk Julian to the door. He stands solid, an unmoving statue. He won’t let any man come into his house and order him around, that much is clear.
“The door,” Zeke says, his voice booming as Julian exits.
For a moment, I don’t think Julian is going to shut the door. I think he’s going to leave it open. But at the last second, he changes his mind and closes the door behind him.
Huh? Maybe I’m not the only one under Zeke’s spell.
Zeke turns and looks at me. He looks menacing, like a beast. He’s muscle, tattoos, and hair. The suit he wears is practically bulging off of his body. It’s clear he doesn’t belong in it. He’s too manly for a suit. Too big. Too much beast.
“Come,” he says as he starts walking.
I consider defying him. But Julian is too close. I won’t defy him when the alternative is Julian.
Zeke walks down the hallway, but he doesn’t turn on any lights. He just walks. And I follow, desperate to feel more in control.
I want out of these clothes. I want to wear something more respectable. I want out of this caked-on makeup. I want a bubble bath. I want food in my belly. And a bed to sleep in.
But I doubt I will get any of that. I’m sure he’s leading me to some shackles for my wrists and ankles. Then to my cage. And if he isn’t a patient man…he’ll try to rape me.
I start looking for a weapon. Something I can use to prevent that from happening. But it’s so freaking dark I can’t see anything. I assume that’s part of his plan to keep me captive.
Suddenly, he stops.
“Sit,” he commands.
I look around but can’t see a foot in front of my face. I doubt he wants me to sit in a chair anyway. So I start to sit on the floor.
“Stop.”
I stop mid crouch.
I hear the scraping of a chair being pulled out. “Sit here.”
I feel for the chair he’s placed in front of me and take a seat, I realize at a table.
My heart thumps, trying to guess what is going to happen next, but I can’t figure Zeke out. He’s the most mysterious man I’ve ever met. When I saved him, I thought he could be different. I thought he could be one of the good ones, but it turns out he’s working for Julian, and I’m now his slave. I can’t gleam any more since he hardly speaks, though.
I hear him banging around, opening drawers and cabinets. What is he searching for? Rope? A knife? Something to hurt me with?
I hold my breath as I feel around on the table, but I don’t find anything for a weapon.
Finally, Zeke returns, plopping something on the table in front of me.
“Eat.”
“What?”
He sighs, taking the seat next to me. “Is your hearing bad? Or do you just like asking questions you already know the answer to?”
I frown, even though I doubt he can see it. “I don’t like being ordered around.”
“And I don’t like having to work out, but it doesn’t stop me from doing it every day. Now eat.”
I cross my arms. “You working out and me taking orders from you aren’t exactly comparable.”
“Eat,” he huffs, like he doesn’t have the energy for this.
I grin. I’m learning something about him already. Talking must wear him down. If I can exhaust him, he’ll be too tired to rape me. He might even let his guard down and tell me more about himself.
“How do I know you haven’t poisoned it?”
“Why would I spend millions of dollars on you only to poison you?”
“Fine. How do I know you won’t drug me?”
“You don’t. But you’re hungry, so you don’t really have a choice.”
“How do you know I’m hungry?” My stomach growls, giving me away.
“Because you are. Oscar wanted you to look your best so he could earn top dollar. That means skinny, not bloated with food. You’re hungry. Eat.”
“I can’t eat in the dark.”
He growls loudly.
It shakes every nerve in my body, causing me to tremble. But not in fear—in excitement. I like the way his voice sounds. I like his commanding echo. If we were in a consensual relationship, I would want him to boss me around in the bedroom. But we aren’t, which means I have to fight.
“Then, I guess you won’t eat.”
I hear the sound of him chewing his food.
And I stare into the darkness at the table in front of me. Why does he like living in the darkness? Just another question without an answer.
I want to defy him. I want to go without eating, but I’ll need my strength to face him. To have a chance against him.
So carefully, I feel around on the table until I find a fork. Then I move it around on my plate, and I stab a piece of food and lift it to my mouth. I smell it hesitantly—broccoli.
I curl my lips down in disappointment. I could go for some French fries or a burger or pizza—something heavy on the carbs. But of course, mister zero percent body fat and all muscle only eats vegetables.