Now
I was like a fucking moth to a flame with Michael. He decided to stay with me in my hotel, declaring he would pay for the rest of the week, and then he would find us a nice house wherever I wanted. I couldn’t believe I was finally getting what I wanted from him; I was getting Michael all to myself again—and he was going to love me this time. He hadn’t hurt me yet, at least not terribly, so I was hopeful. I had reverted right back to the Jackie he had met that first night in the East Village, and he knew it. He wasn’t asking me to do anything; he was nudging himself back into my life without questioning what I wanted. But he knew what I wanted; I’m sure he could see it in the way I stared at him and his beautiful body as he walked out of the bathroom after my bath. I lay on the bed, naked as he requested.
He crawled on top of the bed beside me and began to trail kisses on my body, on all the scars he had given me years before. My nipples perked as his lips pecked my thighs and I moaned with pleasure, my pussy already wet again for him. But as soon as he began, he stopped and hovered over me, his hard cock jutting into my stomach.
“You’re not going to see Elliott again. Do you understand?” His angry glare struck me with fear.
Not see Elliott again? God, I couldn’t stand the thought. But if I was going to be Michael’s again, there was no way I could face Elliott. My heart stung—I loved Elliott. But I was deeply, psychotically obsessed with Michael. I knew who the clear winner should have been, but it was as if I was being controlled by a force that overturned all rational, logical thought. And that force was Michael.
I only nodded as I stared into Michael’s deep gray eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”
He immediately smiled. It felt like I had won the lottery as I stared up at him.
“Oh, sweet Jackie. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, how much I’ve craved you and everything you do for me.” Oh my God, yes. “To finally be in control again, to have you be my sweet fucking submissive who would do anything for me.”
I licked my lips and nodded as my heart raced, my body enveloped with a conflicting mix of pride and anxiety. I had so many questions for him, but fear held my tongue. The first and most important—why was Hana a lost cause? Did he give up on her when she testified against him? From the details she gave during the trial, he didn’t hurt her nearly as much as he hurt me. But I understood why she testified against him—I probably would have too, if the defense hadn’t deemed me “too mentally unstable.” A pang of bitterness surfaced as I remembered. Maybe that’s why he still wanted me. He trusted that I would be loyal to him, or that no one would believe me if I tried to tell the truth. A twisted sense of belonging mixed with dread settled in my chest. Despite everything, I was grateful for his attention, no matter how destructive it was.
“You don’t need to work anymore either. I’ll take care of all your expenses,” he continued, then pressed his lips against my collarbone.
I wouldn’t argue against him even if I could; the gentle way he was treating me rendered me completely useless. But I wasn’t stupid. I knew exactly what was happening—he was going to control me all over again, make me rely on him completely.
But I muttered the words anyway. “Yes, Daddy.”
Michael let me hold him all night. I didn’t think I had ever been happier in my entire life. My heart felt full, and a sense of warmth and contentment enveloped me as I clung to him, savoring the rare intimacy.
The next morning, my phone rang incessantly. I knew exactly who it was, but Michael didn’t let me even look at it, let alone answer it. A knot of anxiety formed in my stomach. I couldn’t just ghost Elliott—I needed to figure out a way to tell him we wouldn’t be able to be together anymore. The thought of hurting him made my chest ache, but I knew I was trapped in Michael’s orbit, unable to break free.
“Let’s go out. There’s some open houses in the area I’d like to see,” Michael suggested after we showered and he seduced me easily, fucking me roughly just as he liked it.
I was horrified when our Uber pulled up a narrow hill to a house just around the block from Elliott’s. Michael obviously knew where he lived, so he must have been doing this on purpose, either to hurt me or to hurt Elliott.
We got out of the car, and Michael grabbed my hand, holding on tightly. Was he afraid I’d make a run for it? At this point, he could put me on a fucking leash for all I cared; I was obsessive Jackie all over again.
The high-heeled, Beverly Hills-looking realtor checked Michael out as we walked into the bright house. It was two stories, and the stairs led up to the front door on the top floor. A deck surrounded it, offering spectacular views of the greenery and hills all around us. I could see a hot tub on the deck below, enclosed by a polished wood fence. The house was furnished, and the living room was bright, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows on each wall, giving a perfect view of the neighborhood. The kitchen was white and modern, and down the hall were small bedrooms. The stairs led down to a huge, open bedroom on the lower floor, the entire space bright and airy. I had never been in a house so astonishingly beautiful.
“What do you think, sweetie? Do you want this one, or should we keep looking?” Michael asked in front of the realtor as we looked out the bedroom window, the views just as amazing downstairs.
I felt like a fucking Princess with Prince Charming. It was all too fucking good to be true, but I didn’t want to accept that. I wanted to forget about reality and live in our pretend fairy tale world for the rest of my days.
“Um, I don’t know, what do you think?” I asked quietly as I looked up at him, his deep gray eyes boring into mine.
He smiled briefly. “You can have anything you want. Just tell me.”
I wanted to pass out. I had been fucking poor and barely getting by for my entire life, and Michael was continuing to lure me in with his charm and money.
“Um…I like it here.” I smiled.
God, such a fucking weak, shrill voice, Jackie. But that’s what Michael liked.
He suddenly turned to the realtor. “We’ll take it.”
* * *
Michael was able to put down twenty percent on the $1.25 million house we had just seen. He put it in his name, of course; he couldn’t risk me taking anything from him. We headed back to the hotel right after, and I almost had a panic attack when I spotted Elliott standing outside the entrance. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Did Michael even know what Elliott looked like, and vice versa? Obviously, Elliott would know it was him when he saw him with me. I wanted to warn Michael somehow so he wouldn’t react and try to hurt Elliott when he inevitably approached us.
“That’s Elliott,” I said quietly, my eyes fixed on him as the car stopped.
Michael quietly scoffed. “Oh, how fun. Let’s go tell him to fuck off.” He was out of the car before I could even react; I only watched in horror as he came around to my side of the car and opened the door for me.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off the unaware Elliott as I stepped out. But he finally turned and saw me with Michael, just as Michael took my hand and pulled me towards him.
“Jacqueline.” Elliott’s confused face scanned me before he looked down at my and Michael’s interlocked fingers. Then he angrily looked at Michael.
“Elliott. Nice to finally meet you,” Michael said chipperly, as if this wasn’t the most awful and heartbreaking thing in the world for me—and probably Elliott too.
Elliott’s jaw clenched, and he took a step towards Michael. His fists were clenched, and his chest puffed out.
“You’re really fucking lucky I didn’t bring my gun with me, because I would shoot you right in the fucking chest for what you’ve done to Jacqueline,” he growled, his voice deep and low.
Michael immediately laughed, turning to me and shaking his head. “Jacqueline? No.” He shook his head again, then turned to Elliott. “She’s Jackie. And she’s gotten over the past, and we’re looking ahead now. Aren’t we, baby?”
Michael turned to me, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame. I only nodded and looked down at the ground, unable to look at Elliott any longer.
“What has he done to you? What’s going on? Please, Jacqueline. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just tell me the words and I’ll fucking clock him right now and we’ll get the hell out of here.”
He was speaking about Michael as if he wasn’t there. My heart pounded, and guilt sank into my belly; I felt like I was about to pass out.
“Are you being forced to do anything right now, Jackie?” Michael asked, almost mockingly. “Tell him.”
I shook my head, still looking down at the ground.
“Fucking look at me and tell me then, Jackie ,” Elliott muttered angrily.
My eyes darted up to Elliott’s. He looked so fucking angry and heartbroken…and desperate. I hated myself because I was the cause of it all. I wanted to tell him that he was too good for me, that I had warned him at the beginning. I wanted to tell him that I loved him and he needed to run far, far away from all of the destruction I caused. But I couldn’t—not in front of Michael.
“I’m not being forced, Elliott. I’m…I’m okay,” I said quietly as I nodded.
Elliott shook his head in disbelief.
“No, this isn’t right. I know this isn’t you, baby. You told me you snapped out of it yesterday, now you need to snap out of it again,” he defended, almost pleading with me.
Michael’s hand tightened around mine. “Do not fucking call her baby,” Michael snarled. “She is mine , and you need to fucking back off.”
I knew something was going to happen if we continued to stand there, so I pulled on Michael’s hand and started to walk toward the lobby. “Come on. Let’s not do this. Please,” I begged.
“Jacqueline,” Elliott called out as I pulled the hotel key card from my pocket. Michael actually listened to me and turned his back on Elliott as he followed me.
I swiped the card, and my heart stomped in my chest as we walked in, my tears already pouring out with grief.
“Baby, you did good. I was about to fucking tear him apart, but that would have violated my parole.” Michael laughed like this was all a fucking joke to him as we headed toward the elevator.
I wasn’t sure what hurt more: facing Elliott or the fact that I was in so fucking deep with the man who hurt me in unspeakable ways.
“I love you, Daddy. I need you more than ever now,” I said quietly.
I hated myself as soon as the words came out. Was that true? Or was I trying to diffuse a situation I feared, that he would possibly punish me for speaking to Elliott?
The elevator door pinged open, and Michael turned to me.
“You’re such a good girl, Jackie. Daddy will never let you leave again.”