"Explain what? You raped me!" I cut him off, fury erupting like a volcano. "Everything you did is illegal. I could report you!"
The words were barely out before I regretted them. I'd just provoked him. This man didn't fear the law.
"Report me? You want Julian to help you?" Silas's voice darkened, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "You think I don't know what you talk about on those calls? You think I don't know you want to fight for custody? Looks like I didn't beat him hard enough last time."
His words froze me to the bone. He knew. He knew everything. He hadn't just put cameras in my room—he'd probably bugged my phone too. And Julian getting beaten, followed, threatened—Silas had orchestrated all of it. I'd hurt Julian. And I'd still chosen to believe Silas, to trust that he wouldn't use violence, to fall for his act.
My lungs felt like they'd explode. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. The crack echoed, sharp and clear.
"You psycho." I stared at him, voice shaking with rage. "You absolute psycho."
The slap turned his head. A red handprint bloomed on his cheek. He slowly turned back, gray eyes fixed on me, holding a near-manic obsession.
"Yes. I'm a psycho." His lips curved, utterly unconcerned. "I went crazy the moment I thought you were dead."
He looked too dangerous. I turned to run, but his arm locked around my waist and yanked me against him.
"Let go of me!" I screamed and pounded his chest. "You psycho! You bastard!"
But his hold was iron. No matter how hard I fought, I couldn't break free.
"Starting today, you're not going anywhere." His voice rumbled in my ear, low and cold. "You'll stay at the manor. With me."
"You can't do this! You can't imprison me!" My voice cracked, shrill.
"You don't have a choice." His tone was eerily calm. "I'll have guards at every exit."
He picked me up. Ignoring my struggles and screams, he carried me upstairs. I hit the bedroom mattress hard. He turned and locked the door.
"Don't even think about running, Anthea. The manor's full of my men. You won't get out." He stood by the door, eyes flat and empty. "When you calm down, I'll let you leave this room."
"You bastard!" I jumped up and grabbed a pillow, hurling it at him.
He dodged. The pillow hit the door. He looked at me one last time and shut the door.
The lock clicked, loud in the silent room.
I rushed to the door and pounded on it. "Silas, let me out! You can't do this to me! Silas!"
No response.
I slid down against the door. Tears poured down my face.
I'd thought Silas had changed. That he'd learned respect. I'd even fallen for him again, believed his sweet words.
But he'd never changed. The gentleman act, the consideration, the compromises—all fake. Deep down, he was still controlling. Domineering. He only knew how to express his so-called love through possession and control. Was that even love?
I curled up on the cold floor, nothing left but crushing disappointment and despair. Could I escape this time?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Silas
I should've been near that coffee shop.
Anthea told me she was meeting Julian, said it was business. I played it cool, acted like a goddamn gentleman, but really? I'd already planned to tail her, to hear every single word they said.
That lawyer better pray he didn't say anything he shouldn't.
