“I bet you’re really regretting hitching your wagon to mine now that your job’s on the line, huh?”
I shook my head and gave her a sad smile.
“No matter what happens, I regret nothing, angel. Best of luck to you.”
She stifled a sound that was somewhere between a giggle and a sob.
“Thanks. Somehow, I think we’ll both need all the luck we can get.”
I jerked my chin at her.
“In you go, angel. He won’t like us talking so long as it is. The longer you linger, the worse this looks.”
“Of course.”
She nodded and bowed her head as she stepped inside. Good girl, I thought before I cleared my throat and spoke.
“A little tip for you, sweet girl: optics are important to Mr. Stonewood, and it’s best you remember that.”
“I’ll do my best not to lose… for both our sakes. I, um… guess I’ll see what Mr. Stonewood left,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the room.
“Get some rest, Miss Jones,” I said, falling back on the safest thing Jacob could say. “Tomorrow is sure to be a long day.”
Her laugh was breathless and humorless and still somehow the sweetest sound I’d heard in years.
“Something tells me that’s a wild understatement,” she muttered.
I waited until she was a few steps past the threshold, then wrapped my fingers around the edge of the door.
“Trust me,” I said, echoing what I’d told her downstairs, letting a tiny bit of myself bleed through Jacob’s facade despite my better judgment. “You haven’t even begun to scratch the surface.”
Our eyes caught one more time.
Then I closed the door gently between us.
For a second, I just stood there with my hand still on the knob, listening to the muffled sounds on the other side. The faint rustle of fabric. The soft thump of her heels hitting the floor as she kicked them off. The rustle of the envelope when she found what I’d had a maid leave on the bed for her to find.
A silk blindfold and a card with a simple set of instructions.
The moment I locked the door behind her, I let out a breath that felt like a wound tearing open. My whole body pulsed with restraint, tight as a drawstring pulled too far.
Tonight, she’d meet me in the dark. Tonight, she’d learn what it meant to be chosen. In a little over an hour, once she’d had time to get ready, I’d interrogate her, push her, corner her, test every soft spot she’d tried to hide at the dinner table tonight.
And then, once I got to see what she’d say and do under pressure, as well as how she held up to my punishment, I’d praise her for being such a good, resilient little doll and I’d make her come on my tongue until she couldn’t think the name Jacob without also tasting Mr. Stonewood in her mouth.
I needed her hungry and hooked. I needed her to win this fucking game as badly as I needed to breathe.
I stepped away from her door on a shaking exhale.
Time for the interviews couldn’t get here fast enough.
The other men would be doing the same thing with their assigned partners tonight: sitting across from the blindfolded women in the dark, asking the questions I’d given them, gauging reactions for my benefit later. They’d imitate my cadence as best they could and try to inhabit the role of ‘Ben Stonewood’ like it was a suit you could put on for the duration of the game, and take off again when the check for your performance cleared.
Their questions would stay within the lines one might expect of this game.
Mine wouldn’t.
I pulled my hand away from her door and forced my feet to move, heading back down the hallway toward the staff stairs. With every step, the domino mask settled a little heavier on my face.
