23. Colton
Chapter 23
Colton
I watch her on the camera, pleased I remembered to turn it on when we arrived. The feed goes directly to my phone, and there’s nowhere in this bunker she can escape me. She’s staring down at the floor, her shoulders hunched. But she’s not crying anymore.
Shame. I like it when she cries.
I told her she was mine. And now she knows it. It felt fucking good owning her like that, making her realize who’s in charge here. It’s not fucking her, although she thinks it is. What is she doing? What is her fucking game? I need to find out, but if she got a job working as a maid, it was to get to me or my father.
I frown. I’ve never seen her before, I’d remember.
So that leaves my father, and he’s got no shortage of enemies. The list is fucking endless.
But back to owning her just now...why doesn’t it feel like it was enough? There’s still something there, something unfinished. I can see it in her eyes, that defiance, that fire that refuses to die. It drives me fucking insane...but it also pulls me in. Every time. She fights, even when there’s no point. Even when she knows she’s mine. But that’s what I want, isn’t it? To watch her struggle. To feel her bend but not break. I’ll break her in time...but not yet. Not until I’ve had enough.
It’s not about her, is it? It’s about the control. The power. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Or at least that’s what I’ve told myself. But it’s not true, is it? I want her because she’s the one thing my father doesn’t control. She’s the one thing that can be mine—completely mine. And I won’t let him touch her. Ever.
She’s right; I am obsessed. Too fucking right I am, and she’s mine. It hurts my head saying the same fucking phrase over and fucking over—but it’s all I come back to whenever I think of her. It isn’t enough to possess her body; I want to control her mind. Her soul. Everything—I need her to breathe me. He’ll come for her if he knows. He’ll try to take her from me. I can’t let that happen. I won’t. I’ll fucking kill him if he tries. He’s always watching. Waiting. But this time, I’ll be ready. If he tries to take her from me, I’ll put a bullet between his eyes. She’s not his to take. The harder she fights, the tighter my grip gets. She belongs to me, every bit of her. Everything.
My cunt of a father doesn’t know about this place. He never will. It’s mine, just like she is. I’ve kept them both hidden from him—my little secrets, out of his reach. But he won't stop looking, and he will want me back too.
Fuck him.
I’ve had enough of being under his reign. It’s my time now. My time to show him that I can take what I want, that I can control what’s mine. He thinks he’s the only one who can wield power, who can command respect through fear. But he underestimates me. He always has.
I look back at the screen, watching her pacing the room like a caged animal. She’s fiery, unpredictable. It’s intoxicating. She’s not like the others, not like the hollow-eyed women my father surrounds himself with. She’s a challenge, a fucking conquest. And I fucking love it.
But I need to be careful. I can’t let her get under my skin too much. I can’t let her distract me from my goal. My father will be looking for chinks in my armor, waiting for me to fuck up. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
I need to figure out her endgame, why she’s here. She tried to tell me, but it made it more fun guessing. If she’s after my father, she’s got another thing coming. I won’t let her use me to get to him. But if she’s here for me...well, that changes things. It means she’s more calculated than I thought. More dangerous.
I zoom in on her face, studying her expression. There’s fear there, but there’s also determination. She’s plotting, scheming. I can see it in her eyes. I need to stay one step ahead. I need to break her before she breaks me.
But not yet. For now, I just watch. I watch her move, her breaths coming in quick gasps, her body trembling slightly. She’s like a cornered animal, ready to lash out at any moment. It’s beautiful. It’s fucking exhilarating.
I grin, the power coursing through my veins. This is what I live for. This is what I fucking crave.
Control. Power. Her .
She’ll be my greatest triumph. My ultimate fuck you to dear old Dad. And he’ll never see it coming. I lean back in my chair, the cold metal pressing against my shoulders, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through me. She’s not just a pawn in this game; she’s the Queen, the most powerful piece on the board. And I’m the fucking King.
Her eyes dart around the room, searching for a way out, a way to escape my grasp. But there is no escape. Not from me. Not from this. I’ve made sure of that. Every exit is sealed. She’s trapped, a caged bird singing only for me.
I wonder what she’s thinking. Is she cursing me, cursing the day she stepped into my world? Or is she plotting her next move? I hope it’s the latter. I want her to fight, to push back, to make me earn every inch of ground I take.
I adjust the camera, following her as she moves to the bed, sitting down on the edge. Her hands grip the mattress, knuckles turning white. She’s trying to calm herself, to regain control. But she can’t. Not while she’s here.
I should be planning my next move, strategizing. But I’m drawn to her, captivated. I can’t look away. I watch as she takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, her breasts straining against the fabric of her new shirt. She’s wearing jeans too, and a belt.
Ha! Like that will stop me, little bird.
My hands itch to touch her, to feel her soft skin under my fingertips, to make her gasp not from fear, but from pleasure.
But I won’t. Not yet. Not until she begs for it. Not until she’s truly mine, body and soul.
I tear my eyes away from her, forcing myself to focus. I need to be ready for whatever comes next. I need to anticipate her moves, my father’s moves. I need to be three steps ahead, always.
But first, I need to know more about her. I need to understand her motives, her desires, her fears. I need to get inside her head, just as I intend to get inside her body.
I pick up my phone, dialing a number I know by heart. It’s answered on the second ring.
“I need information,” I say, my voice steady, commanding. “I need to know everything about her. Leave no stone unturned.”
I hang up, my gaze returning to the screen. Back to her.
She’ll be mine. Completely. And when she is, I’ll have won. I’ll have proven to my father, to the world, to myself, that I’m not just a pawn. I’m the fucking King. And she’s my Queen.
But for now, I watch. I wait. I plan.
Because this game is far from over. It’s only just begun.