My eyes search his, looking for any kind of sign to tell me that he’s joking, but all I see is a man who means every fucking word he says.
“Do you understand, Charlotte?” he demands.
Swallowing, I answer, “Y-yes.”
“Whose little whore, are you?”
I hate the butterflies in my stomach at his command as I answer, “Yours.”
“Good girl.” He gently kisses my forehead. “I have work to do.” He steps back like he didn’t just go into detail about what he would do to another man who thought about me. “Make yourselfat home.” With that, he walks away leaving me alone as if he didn’t just get me wet.
HAIDYN
I enter my office and shut the door, needing a moment to myself. My clothes smell like her, and now my house will too. But this was my only option. A part of me knows this was a setup, but the other part doesn’t want to take the risk of being wrong. I’ve claimed her as mine, meaning I must protect her. She’s mine to fuck, mine to ruin, and mine to use. I wasn’t lying when I told her exactly what I would do to another man who thinks he can have what belongs to me.
I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial Adam.
“Hey, man.”
“Charlotte is at the house,” I inform him.
“Everything okay?” he asks, sounding concerned.
“Long story short, she was being followed.”
“Need me to run some plates?”
“No. Didn’t get a look at them.”
He’s silent for a second. “Okay. Is there anything I can do?”
Not this time. “Just wanted to let you know I’m not at the house alone. Were you able to find anything out about her being arrested?”
“Nope. Nothing.” He pauses for a second. “You think she might have lied to you about it?”
“She couldn’t have,” I inform him.
“Got it,” he says in understanding. “I’ll keep digging and let you know what I find.”
We say our goodbyes, and I exit the office, going to look for her. I have her right where I want her. In my house, under my roof, she’ll sleep in my bed. Instead of watching her on mycomputer, I can just walk into my room and see her naked. It’s like handing candy to a baby. Even I can see the red flags, but I can’t not take advantage of them.
I find her on the second story by the railing, staring down into the living room and open kitchen.
I walk up next to her and watch her sigh when she notices me out of the corner of her eye.
“Did you buy this house, or was it your parents?” she inquires.
“You tell me,” I counter. I never asked her how she knew where I lived when I taped her to the chair in her kitchen, but I didn’t have to. I know how she knew. Only one other person knows I have this house, but she hasn’t been here in years.
Charlotte huffs, then pushes off the railing and turns her back to walk away.
“I bought it.” I decide to answer. I don’t need her to be happy with me. I’m still going to get what I want out of her, but it can’t hurt.
Stopping, she turns back to look at me but says nothing, so I continue. “A contractor built it for his wife.”
She frowns. “Then why did he sell it?”
“He caught her cheating with his business partner. He beat him to death.”
