“What is it, Graves?” Daddy asks.
“Telephone call for you, sir. I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your walk with Miss Bianco, but it’s your brother.”
Daddy snarls. “What the fuck does he want?”
I almost see the butler roll his eyes as he replies. “I don’t know, sir. He told me he wouldn’t discuss his private business with the hired help.”
“Motherfucker. Fine.” He holds out his hand, and Graves hands him a cordless phone, and for the first time I realize I’ve neverseen Daddy with a cell phone. And somehow, I can’t imagine him carrying one. “What do you want?” he says into the receiver as he turns away from me.
The butler gives me a reassuring smile as Daddy walks off into the garden, clearly not wanting me to overhear the conversation. “I’ve seen you around, miss,” he says in a strange accent that isn’t quite American, nor quite European. “And if it’s not too bold of me to say so, it does my heart good to see the master so happy. I hope you’ll be sticking around.”
With that, he nods, turns, and heads back toward the house.
“I hope so, too,” I mutter as I watch him go, then overhear Daddy as he raises his voice.
“When she’s ready, Hoover! I’ll do my job!”
My heart skips a beat.
He’s still planning on sending me back?
How can I go back to that life? How can I leave this place, and leave Daddy, and go back to Hoover and Robert and Mom?
I glance around at the gardens of flowering Hibiscus, at the lush tropical greens with paths carved into them, leading to the translucent, turquoise water. No other houses, no other places.
My easel is still set up next to the trellis, the canvas filling up with strokes of the brush and the girlish hope that this was going to be home. That this…that Daddy was something different.
God, so much pleasure. The feel of him inside me, around me, everywhere with me. I’ve been drowning in him, and my heart punches at my chest.
The scent of ocean and summer swirls around me. A hint of his cologne on me as well as the savory scent of sex from between my legs.
I’ve been just another girl. Another project for him.
He does this with them all.
Of course he does.
The depth of my stupidity crashes over me like an avalanche of shame.
I don’t know what to do, but I know I’m not staying here to be molded and rehabilitated and sent back to a life worse than death. That’s exactly what I escaped. A fucking arranged marriage and nothing for myself.
I run toward the house, my feet slapping on the marble inside as I turn toward the hallway leading to Sebastian’s suite, where he took me and fucked me and bathed me, and made me feel like I was special.
Different.
Lies. All lies. God, he’s good.
So good at his job. I push open the door, then pause and turn. The door on the opposite side of the corridor is closed, and there’s a sign neatly attached to the wood.
Sebastian’s Office. Strictly no entry.
Somewhere inside me, the same rebellious Larissa comes to the front, and I huff as I push the door open. There’s no lock, no resistance. I guess everyone just knows to followSebastian’sorders.
Well, not me. Not this time,Daddy.
Inside, I roll my eyes at how much like him this room is. There’s hardly any furniture. No artwork on the walls, no flowers in vases. The window looks out on the gardens and the ocean beyond.
His desk is very plain and very empty, just a computer, a notebook and…
