“Nothing.” I cleared my throat. “Just trying to figure you out, that’s all.”
He narrowed his eyes, studying me just like his panther did. “Aren’t you afraid of what you’ll find?”
“Should I be?”
He smirked. “Absolutely.”
“In that case...can I return to my pavilion and continue being anonymous?” I glanced at Whisper snoozing on the couch. “I’m not lying when I say I’m far too hopeless to help you. I buckle under stress and would much rather nap, snack, and daydream...preferably in that order.” I backed toward the door. “So if you don’t mind—”
“Step out of this place without my permission, and I’ll kill you before you can beg for forgiveness.”
I stiffened.
My heart hammered but my head stayed weirdly pain-free. The ache remained. The pressure in my eyes hadn’t gone but it didn’t get worse or rise to a crescendo where I blacked out.
Why?
He set my system on high alert and made every part of me hum with stinging awareness yet...I wasn’t afraid of him. Which made absolutely no sense and gave me yet another clue that I was broken by his company.
Rising to his feet, his sudden motion caused Whisper to leap to the floor and prowl to his master’s side.
“Come with me,” Lucien commanded, marching through another archway into a huge kitchen. A basketball team could play in here and have plenty of room without bashing into the black-lacquered cabinets and grey-gold marble benchtop.
Wrenching the cupboards beneath a huge black sink open, Lucien sniffed. “You’re to do as I say when I say it. I don’t want to hear excuses. I’ll punish you if you disobey. Get to work.”
Moving toward him slowly, I eyed up the bottles, rags, and buckets under the sink. “What do you expect me to do exactly?”
He scowled as if I had zero intelligence. “Clean, of course.”
My mouth fell open. “You truly expect me to be your maid?”
“Do you want to stay alive?”
“Yes—”
“Then you’ll clean.” Pushing past me, he snapped his fingers for Whisper to join him and both man and panther vanished into the walled courtyard.
He left me wondering how I’d plummeted from being one of the richest women in the world—a woman who gave away her substantial wealth just because it stressed her out—to becoming a lowly maid for a reclusive, quite possibly insane prisoner.
A prisoner of his own company.
A prisoner with inhuman blood in his veins and a life story I really, really wanted to know.
Chapter Twenty
FUCK, IT WAS BAD THIS TIME.
Worse than bad.
They knew. They had to know I’d finally welcomed a woman into my home.
I thought they’d be happy. That they’d give me a reprieve from the steady drip of burning agony—so I’d actually have the energy to have sex.
Hadn’t they wanted a scenario like this?
They wanted me to get close to someone—to break my steadfast rule never to condemn a child of mine to this endless suffering.
I could’ve raped the invaders they sent my way. I could’ve turned into an absolute monster and had my fill with hundreds of women, but...I didn’t.
Not because I liked being a twenty-nine-year-old celibate virgin but because I refused to take even the slimmest chance that I could get one of them pregnant.
I’d geld myself before that ever happened.
They’d even slipped drugs into my system when I was at the height of puberty—designed to override my stubbornness and make me burn with lust. That level of pain had been almost unbearable, and if Whisper hadn’t been there to chase away the girls who tried to sneak into my bed, I might have done something very regretful.
At least they’d stopped trying to make me perform like a human stallion, yet I couldn’t understand why the pain was excruciatingly bad.
My veins scorched to dust.
My blood transformed into flames.
My heart pounded faster and faster, reaching that critical moment that triggered the vitalsync core to dose me with a sedative.
My teeth clenched so hard I almost cracked them. Sweat poured down my back from misery.
I tried to decide what would be better: keep fighting and hope the pain would fade? Or let my heart trip over that warning line and get knocked out?
But she was in my home.
She was in my living room, far, far too close to my bedroom, where I choked on guttural screams.
If I passed out with her here...she could do anything to me.
Perhaps they were trying to knock me out so I would be at her mercy.
They’d use some new trick to harvest, not only my blood, but my sperm too, stealing my DNA in a different form to create the life I refused to condemn. Not that they’d gone that far yet. Or at least...I hadn’t been conscious if they had.
A blast of pain.
A punch of agony.
The world went grey—
Chapter Twenty-One
“OW.” I HELD UP MY HANDS and counted the blisters forming.
I’d never had the courage to tell anyone this, but...I’d never had a blister before. Never done menial labour—apart from that short time in Vietnam—that would ever result in such afflictions.
But today?
Today was my very first taste of domestication and...I didn’t hate it.
In fact, I was still standing, even as the sun set. I was still coherent as I went around Lucien Ashfall’s private quarters and turned on the lamps and lanterns. Even when I was younger and my parents were still alive, I hadn’t done well in the corporate environment.
I would function enough to work in my assigned office. I’d help compile research and perform whatever tasks my parents asked me to do, but I’d almost always end the day in a stupor from dealing with people, computer screens, and weighty responsibilities.
But this?
Cleaning had almost allowed my mind to turn off. Dusting his shelves, tidying up his books, mopping the floor. I didn’t enjoy it exactly, and my lazy tendencies urged me to sit down and have a nap, but I was actually a little proud of myself.
I’d actually achieved something.
I hadn’t passed out.
And now, I’m very hungry.
My stomach growled for the hundredth time. Lucien hadn’t returned after telling me to get to work this morning and I hadn’t had the courage to steal anything from his cupboards, but...I also didn’t have the courage to leave without his permission.
I might not be afraid of him, but I also didn’t want to see what sort of punishment he’d come up with if I disobeyed him.
So that left only one option.
Flicking back my hair that’d fallen over my shoulder while polishing the chessboard set—all the pieces neatly back in the wooden box beside it—I collected the rag and bottle and made my way back into the kitchen.
I hadn’t had time to tackle that room yet and my entire body ached at the thought.
Wine.
I perked up.
Wine would make everything better.
Especially the delicious flavours that existed in Cinderkeep.
Dumping the rag and citrus-scented disinfectant on the bench, I headed toward the fridge and opened it. The shelves groaned with food. Fresh melons and strawberries, roasted chicken, cold meats, colourful vegetables, protein shakes, and prepacked soups. My stomach snarled again as I opened the container holding pre-cut celery sticks, scooped up some hummus, and grabbed a handful of strawberries.
Devouring my little feast, I spied one of those earthen jars full of floral wine that I’d become rather fond of.
Excellent.
Plopping the last strawberry into my mouth, I grabbed the jar, nudged the fridge closed with my hip and went hunting for a glass.
Footsteps padded behind me, heavy and soft.
My heart pounded, delivering an instant headache as I whirled around and almost dropped the wine. “Haven’t you heard of employment laws?” I blurted. “I deserve a break and—” I exhaled heavily. “Oh, thank God, it’s just you.”
