I looked back at Ethan. “And now he’s kind of…waiting.” If he was confused by our conversation, he didn’t show it, just watching me with anticipation.
The realization landed with surprising weight.
Waiting for my approval.
Waiting for my reaction.
Waiting for me to decide what happens to him next.
The room shifted in my mind and for the first time all night…
I wasn’t the nervous one.
He was.
Melodie folded her arms and looked pleased.
“Interesting,” I said, mostly to myself.
“I don’t…” Ethan started, but my eyes silenced him.
I swallowed, feeling the power flow from this confidence I’d never felt before.
I don’t feel small anymore.
No.
“I feel…” I said, trying to think it through.
Power wasn’t the right word.
Control?
No.
Certainty.
Like the constant static in my head had finally settled into a straight line. Every drip of that fucking faucet was too quiet to affect me now. Every sound in the mansion, all the creaks and echoes. They didn’t bother me anymore.
I was focused on one sound.
His.
Every angle of the room felt like a map I could plan in.
Everything clicked into place for my attack. What I wanted from this man in front of me.
Ethan smiled nervously and cleared his throat.
“So… what now?”
Without thinking, I answered.
“Kneel.”
The word left my mouth before I’d decided to say it, but it felt right.
Ethan blinked.
