Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Hadrian
The second the door closes, I collapse against it, breathing hard. My stomach roils. That’s my Juliet in there. Squirming, strapped to the altar, suffering at my hand. My Juliet. It doesn’t feel real.
Even with all my preparation and work, a large part of me had been sure she’d see straight through the disguise. That she’d raise a brow, say, “Knock it off, Hadrian. You can’t be serious with this shit,” and everything would come crashing down.
But it worked. It actually worked.
I unfasten the mask and let my eyes readjust to natural light.
I only thought to add the night vision at the last second, and I’m so glad I did.
Watching Juliet creep around thinking she could hide from me was exhilarating.
She was always a little bit scared of the dark.
I wonder if she ever told anyone else about it.
Once my body settles enough to think, I head straight to the monitors and turn the sound up high so I can hear every delicious little moan that comes out of Juliet’s mouth.
Strands of her beautiful hair stick to her clammy face, and she wriggles on the altar, but there’s nothing she can do.
The timer ticks down, and when it hits twenty-five, she speaks.
“Please. Can you hear me? I can’t stand it. Take it out.”
It’s what she thinks she wants, but I know better.
I’ve studied every piece of media she’s consumed since I discovered her obsession. I have spreadsheets detailing the books and films she returned to again and again, and which she never bothered to finish. I’ve studied them all, and the reason she gave up on some is as clear as day.
If the man shows any softness, she loses interest.
She values cruelty, harsh punishments, and a total lack of compromise. She wants the female character forced into submission. Juliet doesn’t want a master who shows mercy, and she’s not going to get one. How long will it take before she admits it’s what she’s always craved?
Even now, when she was panicked and terrified, I caught a couple of moments when her body seemed to react to me. I’ll experiment more with that later on and see what sort of responses I can get.
A hot-red thrill pulses along my veins, and I breathe through it. I have to stay calm and logical to make this work. If Juliet gets a hint of how much I’m enjoying this, it’ll shatter the character I’m creating. But, God, it’s difficult.
Spending so much time immersed in Juliet’s fantasies changed me.
They became my fantasies, too. I used to think hurting women was the lowest thing a man could do.
I didn’t understand that some people crave a certain type of pain.
Sometimes, they need it. Now, all I can think about is how far to push Juliet. What will it take to break her?
On the monitor, she kicks her legs the little she can and lets out a sad whimper.
From what I’ve read, this particular punishment gets worse until around the thirty-minute mark, then the pain begins to ease off.
If a longer period is required, I’d have to remove the plug and reapply the special lube.
If she’s suffering now, she’ll be desperate when I go back in.
My cock is screaming for attention, but I ignore it. I’m very good at denying my own impulses if I have to, and soon, I’ll never have to again. I’ll have Juliet perfectly trained to serve my every need. Still, I turn away from the monitor. No need to torture myself.
Twenty minutes.
If the time’s going slowly for me, it must be crawling for Juliet. A satisfying thought. To distract myself, I pull out my phone. I’ve already given Kendrick and Jacob access to the cloning program, but I haven’t looked at it myself since Juliet arrived in the Compound.
I open it and attack the flood of messages. Word of Juliet’s disappearance has spread to all her friends and acquaintances. So many people who care about Juliet have sent worried messages. It threatens to make me feel guilty, so I scroll past until I find the name I want.
Alex: I don’t appreciate lateness, Juliet. I’ll punish you for it later.
Alex: Are you on your way?
Alex: Is something wrong, Juliet?
Then the Brotherhood responded from Juliet’s phone.
Juliet: I’m sorry. I’m not going to make it tonight. Cold feet. Sorry I wasted your time.
Silence for a few hours, and then:
Alex: I’m coming for you.
Then nothing.
I’m coming for you.
An odd phrase. In creating Candice and the other CIs, I had to become an expert on language as well as facial movement.
The most basic iteration of the Turing test involves creating a chat bot that can talk with enough nuance to fool a human.
Even though all they can see is the text, it’s surprisingly difficult.
I’m coming for you.
At first glance, it seems as though he’s coming to see if she’s okay, but I’m not convinced. There’s something threatening about the tone, and Juliet never gave him her address.
And I’d have to check with Jacob, but the timing is off, too. They said she was reported missing an hour after her disappearance. If this guy reported her, why would he be messaging her phone, especially once she already told him she wasn’t coming?
A thought hits, and it’s way beyond unlikely, but it still sends a shiver through my bones.
What if he’s talking to me?
Well, not me specifically, but to the person he believes has Juliet.
I read the words again, and the threatening edge is unmistakable.
Unless I’m driving myself crazy and jumping at shadows.
None of this is in my realm of understanding.
I should focus on Juliet and leave this to Kendrick and Jacob.
Whatever is happening on the outside, Juliet is here now. That’s all that matters.
I take a minute to check in on her. Fifteen minutes to go. She’s lying quietly now, though still shifts sometimes, twitching as if trying to dislodge the plug. Silly. It’s in there until I take it out.
I zoom in on her face. A single tear glistens on her cheek. It’s a lure, tempting me in. Pulling me toward softness I can’t afford to show. She doesn’t want softness. I have to eclipse the memories I have from before and focus on the future.
Snap out of it.
I turn away from Juliet and call Candice. She pops up, smiling, on my phone, and my eyes widen. “What…”
Her smile grows, and she twists her head so I can see her hair properly. Her vivid purple hair. “Do you like it? Me and Quinn are twins now.”
Indeed they are. Quinn switched from green to bright purple last week.
Candice waits for my reaction, and I take my time before giving it.
She’s not supposed to be able to change her physical appearance.
It’s right there in her code, along with a lot of other, more serious restrictions I don’t want her breaching.
Is she testing me? Is this a reaction to Juliet’s presence? I want to delve into it with her, but Juliet’s timer is ticking down, and I can’t get distracted. I can deal with this later. “It looks great. Are you helping Jacob investigate at the moment?
“I sure am.”
“Good. Please tell him to look at the messages from Alex. See if he thinks the final one could be a threat directed to the person who captured Juliet. I’ll catch up with him once I’m done here.”
“Will do.” A pause. Candice’s brain works so much faster than ours. The pauses are deliberate, programmed to make her speech feel normal. Instantaneous reactions are disturbing for humans. We’re wired to find the ebb and flow of a natural conversation soothing, and silence is as important as words.
“When do we get to meet her? Quinn and me, I mean. She’s going to love the virtual world we’re creating.”
Are Candice’s speech patterns changing as well?
In the depths of my obsession, I created Candice to mimic the faint Scottish lilt Juliet never quite lost, even though she moved here as a teenager.
Subtle, but there. Candice’s voice sounds brassier by the day, pure USA with a harsher tone than I ever put there. Similar to Quinn.
It’s like a teenager pulling away from her parents and becoming more like her friends. A worrying development. I never wanted kids, mainly because I can’t stand teenagers.
My timer beeps. Ten minutes. Time to wrap things up with Candice and get back into character. “Soon. You’re right, she will love it, but she’ll need a lot of time to get used to things here. I don’t want to rush her. I’ll call once I’m free again to check in with the investigation.”
Another pause, one long enough to make me wish I hadn’t programmed Candice quite so well. The awkward tension is horribly real, then she sighs. “Okay. See you later.”
She disappears. I drink some water, stretch out, then reattach my mask.
As it clicks into place, an odd thing happens.
I’d felt relieved to remove it, but as it fastens onto my face, my mind quiets.
I can forget it all. Forget Candice, the investigation, and all the other hundred things vying for my attention.
All that matters is Juliet.
Toward the end of our marriage, Juliet complained often that I was distracted.
I’d apologize, spend less time on work for a few days, then find myself pulled into a new issue and realize I’d hardly spoken to Juliet for a week.
When I look back, I cringe at myself. I took her for granted and neglected her.
If I’d been more attentive, if I’d listened to her hints about what she needed from me, maybe I wouldn’t have lost her. Now, she gets my full attention. Everything she ever wanted and then some.
Five minutes. Showtime. I collect the items I need.
Adrenaline surges, and I'm alive. More than alive. I’m vibrating, energy pulsing through me, dragging me toward my Juliet.
Time for her second punishment.