His brows furrow at my words, and he mumbles something under his breath that I can't hear. Then he says, "I don't think your fiancé will mind if I keep you a little while longer."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, incensed.
Lucien glances up at me with a cocksure and shrewd expression on his face. "He's not even looking for you," he says with an unapologetic shrug.
I shake my head. "I don't believe you." We were mugged that night. Giovanni most certainly would have reported everything to the police, including the fact that I was kidnapped. And my father…my father would be looking for me. My father is a powerful man, maybe even more powerful than Lucien.
Tears fill my eyes as I glare at my remorseless captor. "You promised you would let me go after I gave you what you wanted." I choke back a sob. "You said…you said you let the others go. Was that a lie?"
"No. I let them go," he tells me.
"Then why won't you let me go? Why are you forcing me to stay here with you?" I cry. My words seem to visibly wound him, but I don't stop. "What do you want from me?" I shout. Standing up, I pound my fist on the table, rattling the surrounding dishes, and demand, "Tell me what you want from me!"
"More!" he snaps.
That single word makes me crumble as the truth finally comes out. He's not worried about my safety as much as he is about fucking me again.
My gaze meets Jackson's stare from across the table, and he looks worried. He gives me a subtle shake of his head, and I know he wants me to sit down and stop pushing his cousin.
Well, I'm tired of being a docile, little doll that everyone thinks they can just throw around and treat however they want.
"I don't want to stay here with you another second," I tell Lucien through gritted teeth. "I want you to let me go!" I scream, grabbing the first thing I see, which is my dinner plate, and throwing it. Pieces of fine china shatter and food splatters against the wall and floor.
Lucien stares at the mess with wide eyes. I can see the tremble start in his hands and work its way up his arms and entire spine. He stands and growls in frustration, shoving his large hands through his hair and pulling hard at the ends, threatening to rip each strand out by the roots.
He turns to me with a murderous glint in his eyes, and the look he gives me sends a chill straight through me to my very bones.
Jackson stands then, a worried expression etched on his face. "Luc," he says calmly, but Lucien doesn't even acknowledge his presence.
Lucien's gaze is pinpointed on me, and I know all he sees is red in that very moment. I watch in horror as he makes quick work of his belt buckle before pulling the leather through the loops. He bends the belt in half and slides it into his hands, squeezing it hard.
In one swift motion, he has me pinned against the table on my stomach and the skirt of my dress lifted up to my shoulders. The first blow is unexpected, and I cry out in shock from the pain. He hit me square on my bottom; the lacy material of my panties doing nothing to lessen the hurt.
The next few strikes are littered over my thighs and backside, but I bite my lip to keep from crying out again.
I won't give him the goddamn satisfaction.
My father has beaten me enough times in my life that I can tune the pain out. It will hurt later when the adrenaline wears off, but right now…I'm numb. He can hit me all he wants; it won't change a damn thing. I still want to go home, and I still…hate him.
Angry tears form in my eyes as he continues to beat me, but I refuse to let them fall. I refuse to give in. Not to him.
Lash after lash reins down on me, and I stay completely still, taking every bite of the leather across my sensitive flesh without so much as a flinch. This only seems to enrage him more, unfortunately.
Finally, I feel his hands leave my body as Jackson fights to pull him away. "Enough!" Jackson's loud voice echoes through the room. "Do you want to be likethem?" he screams.
Immediately, the belt drops from Lucien's hand, clattering to the floor. I can hear him mumbling through his harsh, urgent pants. Gently, he pulls my skirt down to hide what he did. His rapid exhales whisper across my neck, but I don't dare move.
If there's one thing I learned growing up with an abusive father, it's that it's better to simply play dead. Just like in the animal world, it makes your attacker give up quicker if they think you're weak or too injured to fight back.
Spinning me around to face him, I see a pained expression on Lucien's face with perhaps…remorse laced into his features.
I don't even give him a chance to apologize for what he did. It's unforgivable. "You're a monster," I hiss at him, my voice trembling only slightly. My words seem to cut straight through him as he quickly releases his hold and takes a step back from me.
It's at that moment that Maria rushes into the room and surveys the mess on the floor. "Master Lucien," she says, out of breath. "I will clean it. Just give me a moment to ---."
"No!" he roars, and I jump at the sound of his deep voice echoing through the room. His hair falls rebelliously over his eyes as he points at me and says, "Number Seven made the mess, and she will clean it up."
Before I can even process the fact that he's resorted to calling me by mynumberand not my name, I watch Maria disappear into the kitchen, only to reappear a few seconds later with a caddy full of cleaning supplies.
