But it was foolish to fear for her. It’s like worrying about a shark or a lion as they’re about to devour you.
I square my shoulders and walk toward her with steady steps, each one carrying me further from everything I love. I refuse to show fear, refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.
She’s already won. The least I can do is make her work for the victory lap.
“You ready?” Eva asks, her voice smooth. There’s something almost lazy in her tone, like this is all just a minor inconvenience in her otherwise perfect day.
I lift my chin, channeling every ounce of defiance I have left. “Don’t push me, Novak.”
Her lips curl in that faint, predatory smile I remember so well. The one that used to make my knees weak, back when I was naive enough to think she might actually care about me.
“I’m going to enjoy our time together, little bird,” she says softly.
Little bird. Like I’m something fragile and helpless, trapped in a cage of her making.
Like I’m prey.
The drive to the airport passes in tense silence. I stare out the window and Eva stares at her phone. The private jet is exactly as ridiculous as I remember—butter-soft leather seats, crystal and silver dining ware, and the faint scent of Eva’s perfume clinging to everything like an invisible claim. It’s beautiful and luxurious and feels exactly like the gilded cage it is.
Eva settles into her seat like a queen awaiting tribute and, as the plane begins to taxi down the runway, she lays her amber gaze on me, as if enjoying the fact that I can’t back out now. Not unless I throw myself out of the damn plane.
I don’t much like flying. I’ve discovered this thanks to Eva’s penchant for air travel. And being on this plane forces me to remember that time we…
As if reading my mind, she asks casually, “Would you like to accompany me to the bathroom again once we’re in the air?”
The memory floods into my mind—the way she touched me, made me come apart in the clouds while the world spread out below us like a map of all the places I’d never see. The way my body responded to her…
I keep my voice icy despite the fire burning beneath my skin. “I’d prefer some sleep, if you can restrain your libido for a few hours.”
Eva just laughs. She slides a silk eye mask over her face with theatrical flair, settling back in her seat like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Please yourself,” she murmurs, and her mouth curves into that cat-that-got-the-cream smile that makes me want to slap her.
Or kiss her.
I hate myself for that. Hate that even now, even knowing what she is and what she’s capable of, my body still responds to her like she’s some kind of drug I can’t kick.
I stare out the window as the plane lifts off, even though it scares me, watching the lights of Vegas fall away beneath us like jewels sinking into a dark sea. The city gets smaller and smaller until it’s just a faint glow in the black, and then even that disappears.
My stomach twists with dread. I’m going back. Walking back into her world. Her castle. Her rules.
The memory of Eva’s hands on me—inside me—at the hospital flashes through my mind, unbidden and unwelcome. The way she touched me like she owned me already, made me respond despite my anger and hurt. The way I’dlether, even knowing it was another kind of surrender.
I squeeze my eyes shut, furious at myself for the desire that flares in me at the memory. This is exactly what she wants—for me to remember how good it felt, despite everything else being wrong.
But I’m not the same naive girl she bought at auction just a few weeks ago. I’m not the same woman who let herself believe that Eva Novak could care for someone more than she cares about herself.
No. Now I understand that women like Eva don’t change. They just get more twisted and better at hiding their true nature.
The plane climbs higher, slicing through clouds that look like silver cotton in the moonlight. Below us, the world is dark and vast. I glance over at Eva, still reclined in her seat with that silk mask covering her eyes. She looks peaceful, almost innocent in sleep.
Maybe Eva’s not the same woman she was a few weeks ago either, I think darkly. Maybe she’s worse now. Maybe losing her father broke something in her that was already hanging by a thread.
Last time I escaped, but not unscathed.
This time I might not escape at all.
Chapter 7
