Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
My head hurt. The persistent ache chased me out of oblivion, forcing a wince and a need to rub it. My wrist caught on something.
I fought to open my eyes to see what, but they wouldn’t listen at first. When they finally did, I blankly stared at the fuzzy pink handcuff for a few seconds.
Konni had been serious about tying me up?
Clarity crashed through the foggy thoughts.
The dressing room.
Someone had grabbed me from behind.
These cuffs weren’t Konni’s.
My gaze shifted to the unfamiliar bed I’d been cuffed to, then the room.
I turned my head and met Hestian’s watchful gaze. He was sitting in a chair beside the bed, holding his cane between his splayed legs in a relaxed “king of this land” kind of pose.
“Your mind really is a beautiful thing.” His gaze swept over me. “Like the rest of you.”
If the pain in my head hadn’t been enough to turn my stomach, the lust in his gaze did the job.
I tried to sit up a little so I wouldn’t vomit on myself and discovered my legs were tied together too. Bound hand and foot, I wasn’t able to do more than scoot a few inches farther up onto the pillow.
“You’re very quiet. What are you thinking?”
“I’m focusing on how to sit up more so I don’t throw up on myself. It’d be easier if I could use my hands or feet. Both would be preferable.”
“I apologize for the temporary confinement. We can remove them as soon as you agree to marry me.”
I let out a defeated sigh. Not that I was willing to marry him, but because I was being forced to put up with his bullshit.
“You need to increase the dose of your anti-delusional meds. They’re not working.”
“It’s not delusional to believe a younger woman would be interested in marrying me.
I have wealth, connections, and am easy to please.
All I need is an heir.” His gaze slid from my face to my midsection.
“You have more intelligence than my previous wives and have witnessed the trials of a divorce, so I understand why my wealth wouldn’t immediately appeal to you.
” He reached over to a packet of paper on the bedside table and showed it to me.
“A prenup agreement?” I said, wanting to laugh.
“One million for marrying me, uncontested if we ever separate. Ten million for each live son you birth.”
The things I wanted to say bubbled up inside of me. I swallowed down the angry rhetoric and instead replied with a calm, “If I were interested in those kinds of terms, why marry you and not Drokonnen Steele?”
“He’s not an option for you.”
“He thinks he is.”
He hummed thoughtfully then thumped his cane on the floor. The door opened, and a woman entered. She radiated the subservience and fear of someone who’d been abused to the point they’d forgotten how to fight.
“This is Marta. She’ll be caring for you while you deliberate on my proposal. She doesn’t speak our language, though.” He pounded his cane on the floor again.
A bigger man entered, and the woman shrank further into herself.
“Tell Marta to check Ms. Elmantas thoroughly for any marks.”
The man spoke softly, and the woman hurried toward me, lifting my pant leg.
“I can save us both the time,” I said, not fighting her. “I have notable moles on my right butt cheek, left forearm, and back of my neck, and a flame tattoo on my left shoulder.”
“Check her shoulder,” Hestian said.
Marta didn’t stop her gentle inspection until the big guy spoke again. Then she reached for the buttons on my top without meeting my gaze.
I glanced at Hestian and the other guy. Both watched avidly.
My stomach soured, and I hated how helpless I was to stop her from going to the next button. But I didn’t let my rising panic show as I wondered how far she would go.
I didn’t care if they saw my bra. Modesty wasn’t really a concern of mine. But it had to be on my terms. My body, my choice.
What I really cared about was what came after. Would they stop at looking?
When she reached my bra, she rolled me to my side as far as the cuffs would allow, and pulled my top down enough to see my mark.
“Use a pair of scissors to cut her top there,” Hestian said. “We’ll need to check that frequently.”
My insides grew cold.
He not only knew what the mark was, but that it could change. And cutting my shirt to make checking it easier proved that he meant to keep me long enough to see it change.
I listened to the snip of fabric. Then Marta eased me onto my back.
“Marta will feed, water, and bathe you while you’re with us, as long as you behave.” Hestian indicated the ceiling camera in the corner of the room. “If you cause problems, Javier will take over. He won’t be as gentle. Do you understand?”
I nodded and hated Hestian’s pleased smile.
“Very good. I know you have a lot to consider. I’ll leave you for now and check back later. If you need anything, just speak to the camera. Javier will understand.”
Knowing someone would always be watching increased my fear. My gaze tracked Marta as she followed them out. How long would it be until I started acting like her?
Subtly, I tested the cuffs. They didn’t dig into my skin but didn’t have any give either.
If not for the camera, I would have tried forcing a hand out, but I wasn’t stupid.
How long would it take for Javier to swoop in when he realized what I was doing?
Would I have enough time to get the other hand free? To untie my legs? Then what?
My gaze swept the room. Two windows on each side of the bed. Three doors. One was the exit they’d used. One led to a dark bathroom. And the other was a closet. I could see ball gowns in it. To tempt me or leftover from the previous deceased wife? Did it matter?
The windows explained the cuffs and tied feet. They likely also meant Javier was very close by too.
I looked around the room again for a clock to see how long I’d been out, but there wasn’t one. Had enough time passed for my bodyguard to realize something was wrong? If I were lucky, a whole team of people was already coordinating how to get me out of here.
And if I wasn’t that lucky, the safest option for now was to do nothing.
I didn’t need to pretend I was considering his option.
He already knew I wasn’t interested. This was a waiting game for him.
He was waiting for my mark to fade. Waiting for me to give up like Marta.
Waiting for me to be so defeated that I said yes.
Stay smart and stay alive, Soph.
I closed my eyes.
Konni, my big, overprotective, needy dragon, would find me. He’d come in here and bitch slap Hestian so hard for touching what was his that Hestian’s head would dislocate up his ass.
Smiling slightly, I focused on my breathing and waited.
Waiting was boring as fuck.
I thought about the latest batch of projects I’d reviewed and came up with some great solutions. When I ran out of work stuff to think about, I played a word game in my head. How many words that start with the letter A could I think of?
While thinking of D, particularly Konni’s, I drifted off.
The sound of the door opening pulled me out of my light doze, and I opened my eyes to see Marta coming in with a tray of food and something to drink.
Without a clock, it was hard to say how much time passed again, but it was enough that I was parched. I tried to sit up, leveraging my weight against the cuffs. She hurried to set down the tray and helped me.
Once I was sitting up, she held up the water. Regardless of the wisdom of drinking something from someone who was holding me hostage, cuffed to a bed, I nodded.
After holding the cup until I drained it, she held up the plate. She fed me like that. One offering and confirmation at a time.
When I finished, she went into the bathroom and returned with a bedpan.
I stared at it for a long while. If Konni didn’t come soon, I’d have to use it or pee the bed. Both were horrible options because, either way, Marta would need to undress me while the camera saw everything.
Slowly, I shook my head.
I caught a hint of empathy in her gaze before she put the bedpan back in the bathroom. Then she collected the food tray and left.
The light peeking around the window faded, and I struggled to distract myself from how long it was taking.
But my fears echoed in my mind until I couldn’t think of anything else.
What if the delay in my rescue wasn’t just due to logistics?
What if Konni didn’t know where I was? Had whoever had taken me somehow slipped by my bodyguard unnoticed?
I redirected my focus to something else countless times.
The number of flower petals on the awful bedspread I was lying on.
The gowns I would design for Miranda and Wrenly.
All the ways I would stomp on Hestian’s withered testicles.
I even mentally redecorated the room into a BDSM themed escape room.
When I grew too restless thinking, I did leg lifts and tucks.
I wasn’t used to being so mentally or physically idle outside of the occasional hangover day, and it started to get to me more than the cuffs and ropes.
When Marta finally reappeared, I was grateful for several reasons. It was something more than just lying there.
And I needed the bedpan.
She offered the water first. I shook my head and nodded toward the bathroom.
That flash of empathy returned to her gaze. It was mutual. I was mortified, but she was the one stuck helping me.
I blushed as she unbuttoned my pants then fought the sting behind my eyes as she shielded me from the camera until my pants were up again. After she removed the cloth she’d used to clean me and the pan, she returned to offer the food and water once more.
I drank, but didn’t eat, already dreading the morning.
The light faded in the room.
Hestian appeared again.
“You have a remarkably composed resilience, given the circumstances,” he said, sitting on the bedside chair. “It’s a very refreshing trait I don’t often see in females.”
“You’ve been surrounding yourself with the wrong females.”