The faint strains of the ball drifted through the walls, distant and muted. A world of light and laughter and safety. A world that felt impossibly far away.
She could still feel Drakeston’s hands on her. Still smell his cologne, cloying and sharp, clinging to her skin like a stain. Still hear his whispered poison, each word designed to wound, to diminish, to remind her of her powerlessness.
Her skin crawled. She wanted to scrub herself raw, to peel away every place he had touched. But she could not fall apart. Not here. Not now. She had survived worse. She would survive this.
In. Out. In. Out.
The silk of her gown whispered against her legs as she shifted, trying to steady herself. Her heart still raced, but the panic began to recede. She would compose herself. She would return to the ball. She would smile and pretend that nothing had happened.
The door opened behind her.
Sophia’s heart leapt. She turned, hope flaring despite everything.
Edward. He had come to find her. He had come to make sure she was safe and had come to look at her with those blue eyes and make her feel, for just a moment, that she was not alone.
“Sophia, dearest.”
Lord Drakeston stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
The hope died. Ice flooded her veins.
“Did you think you could escape me so easily?” Drakeston drawled as he moved further into the room, his footstepsmeasured, unhurried, a predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run.
Sophia straightened. She would not cower. She would not give him the satisfaction.
“Let me pass,” she said as she headed straight for the door, but he positioned himself before her, blocking her only exit.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that. Not until I get what I want.” His eyes lowered, and he licked his lips.
Sophia shuddered.
“I will pay you when we return to London.” Sophia’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “As we agreed. You will have your money.”
Drakeston laughed. The sound echoed off the walls, low and cruel.
“Money.” He stepped closer. “You think this is about money?”
Sophia’s stomach dropped. She had seen the way he looked at her, felt the possessive weight of his gaze when he thought she was not watching. But she had told herself it was merely another form of control, another way to make her feel small.
“We should not be alone like this.” She took a step back, her voice steadier than she felt. “It isn’t proper. If someone were to find us here?—”
“I’m not done, my dear Sophia,” he said as he took another step, and the moonlight caught the sinister gleam of his pale eyes, the twist of his smile. “The money… Certainly, I like being paid what I’m owed. But when it came to you and your mother… Well, it is more of a means to an end. A way to keep you close. To remind you of your place. To ensure that you have no choice but to comply.”
“My place?” Sophia’s voice shook despite her efforts to control it.
He closed the distance between them until she could feel the heat of his body, could see the sweat beading at his temples despite the chill in the room. His eyes raked over her body with an ownership that made her stomach turn, as though she were already his to claim. She wanted to flee, to scream, but her feet seemed rooted to the floor.
“Beneath me, where you belong. Where you have always belonged, from the moment I first saw you at that wretched ball three years ago. So proud and so untouchable. I knew then that I would have you. It was only a matter of time.”
Ice flooded her veins. The room suddenly felt smaller, the walls pressing in, and the door impossibly far away.
This was not a negotiation. This was not even extortion. This was a trap, and she had walked into it willingly, believing herself clever enough to manage a monster.
“You are mad.”
“I ampatient.” Drakeston’s smile did not waver. “And my patience has finally been rewarded.”
Sophia’s back hit the wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.
