Chapter 11
“You were stupid to even attempt it.” I snap. I know I should be comforting her. I should be calming her down, but right now I’m so fucking furious.
And I’m tired too, exhausted. Clearing up Esau mercenaries isn’t exactly easy. Flying halfway across the continent because of her antics doesn’t help.
She scowls at me, yanking on the bindings. “I don’t regret it.” She snarls. “And as soon as I get the chance, I’ll do it again.”
I shake my head, staring down at her, staring down at where the nightgown she’s wearing is becoming see-through with all the sweat.
I can see her breasts, at least the hint of them.
It doesn’t help that the room is cold enough to ensure her nipples are hard.
My eyes drop further, staring between her thighs, to where I know she’s unshaven.
Before the auction they’ll fix that. They’ll have her shaved, prepped, all her holes ready to be used and abused.
I let out a sigh, burying the wave of complex feelings at that notion.
Grace Ratcliffe is mine. It’s a done deal. She may not know it, the dozens of Lords who watch her on the camera feed may not know it, but it doesn’t change the facts.
“Getting yourself worked up like this won’t help.” I murmur, sinking down onto the mattress beside her.
The way she responds, the way she seems to calm as I stroke her cheek, tells me everything I need to know.
“I can’t do this.” She whispers. “I can’t stay here, waiting. It’s more torturous than simply selling me now and being done with it.”
“Is that what you want? To wish your time away?” I reply. She’s only just turned eighteen, and yet even if the Brethren did decide to move the timeline up would I…no. Besides, they’d never agree to it while she’s so young. Rules are rules, after all.
She gulps, shaking her head. “I’d rather just kill myself.”
“Grace…”
“Antonio…”
The way she says my name, the way she emphasises each syllable.
Will she scream it delightfully when she comes apart on my cock?
I shake my head, burying that thought. Sixteen is the age of consent in this country and yet even at the age she is now, she is far too fucking young.
It’s wrong to think of her like that and yet, all my plans for her have one clear goal.
But we won’t make that, she won’t make that, unless I do something to focus her headspace, to change it.
So, I sit there. I soothe her, I calm her down, and once she’s drifted off to sleep I get up and walk out, quietly shutting the door that opened for me.
When I get outside, I pull my phone out and dial a number I now know off by heart.
“Antonio, this is a surprise.” Conrad’s obnoxious voice fills my ear.
“I need a favour.” I say curtly.
“A favour?” He repeats, far too fucking gleefully. “Will this make us even?”
“Not even close, but you’ll do it anyway, won’t you Conrad?”
“That depends what it is.”
I let out a chuckle. Like he isn’t my little bitch. With a glance over my shoulder to ensure we’re not being overheard, I relay my orders.
Oh, I know this will hurt her. That this will damage her, and yet, it needs to be done. Now that she’s decided on trying to kill herself, she won’t simply stop at the first attempt. No, I need to twist this, to make her realise there are far worse fates than death.
I need to break her, just a little more, just enough.
And that will ensure she behaves exactly the way I want.