"Get dressed. We're done for today."
She scrambles for her clothes desperately.
Pulls them on with shaking hands that can barely work the fastenings.
"Same time tomorrow," I say, tucking myself back into my jeans. "Ten a.m. in the library. And Eden—don't think about running again. Because if you do, if you make me hunt you down a second time, the punishment won't be pleasure. It will be something far worse. Something that will break you in ways you can't recover from. Understand?"
She nods frantically.
"Say it."
"I understand. I won't run. I won't try to escape."
"Good girl. Now go. Rest. Eat something. Take care of yourself. I'll see you at dinner."
She practically runs from the library, fleeing like prey that's been released by a predator.
I watch her go, already planning tomorrow's lesson.
Already thinking about how to push her further without breaking her completely.
Already anticipating the moment when she stops fighting entirely and accepts what she is.
Mine.
Completely and utterly mine.
And in three weeks, when I walk into that showcase with Eden at my side, when she kneels for me in front of the entire Consortium, when she performs every command flawlessly?—
They'll all see it too.
They'll see exactly what I’m capable of.
They'll see that I've taken a terrified cult escapee and turned her into the perfect acquisition.
And Victor Hargrove and the rest of the inner circle will have no choice but to accept me as one of them.
Worth every second of the patience it took to get here.
Worth the two million dollars.
Worth everything.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eden
I've lost track of the days.
It's been—what? A week? Two weeks? More?
Time has stopped meaning anything.
Stopped being something I can measure in sunrises and sunsets and the passage of hours marked by clocks on the wall.
Now time is measured differently.
In training sessions that blur together into one endless cycle of commands and compliance.
