50. Serenity
Chapter fifty
Serenity
T he week crawls by, and while Declan is calm and confident, I worry for him. The Envelope can't get shut down. It's too important to too many people. Not just the employees and Declan, Daniel, Harrison and Madame, but to the patrons, too. They have a safe space to be themselves - every aspect of themselves - without judgement. Taking away that space just feels...cruel.
So, I dress in professional white blouse tucked into black pants and follow Anderson into the district courthouse to defend my man. I'm not able to sit with him as the prosecution lays out a series of details, he determines is indicative of sex trafficking and prostitution. He's leaning heavily on the morality of a sex club and trying to drag Declan's reputation through the mud. I sit behind him, stewing the entire time, swallowing down the things I want to say and picking at my cuticles.
Madame's sitting next to me and takes my hand in hers a few times when it gets really bad.
Behind the prosecution is Adrian. He gave me a tight nod when I walked in but he has been ignoring me for the most part. I'm hoping that disrespecting him the last time he came in sent a message - that I'm not his little zaya anymore and that he doesn't scare me.
Filling that side of the courthouse, though, seems like an army of outraged civilians. They whisper and react to every appalling claim the lawyer makes.
None of what this asshole prosecution is saying is true. There's always a grain of truth behind every claim, that then gets embellished and expanded or connected in a way to paint a terrible picture of The Envelope and Declan, specifically. My name is mentioned, but I don't take the stand until after lunch.
Fuming, I stand and walk out of the courtroom, needing a moment of calm. A storm of angry indignation is making me sick to my stomach. I bend over a water fountain, hoping that the cool water settles the acid in my stomach.
Suddenly, there's a hot, hard body at my back. I start to stand back up and push off the creep, when a low voice whispers in my ear. "I have a gun on your back, little rabbit. Stand up slowly, and walk with me calmly, and no one has to get hurt."
I can feel the press of something metal in my back, so I do as I'm told. I sincerely doubt he'll hurt me, but I'd rather not test that right now. The last thing Declan needs is to come out of that courtroom and find my guts spilled all over this shiny floor.
Adrian positions me underneath his arm, and I can see that he's got a pistol hidden under his long coat, draped over his arm.
"Where are we going?"
"To your new home, Zaya," Adrian's voice is low, and only for me.
We walk out of the courtroom together, looking more like a couple than kidnapper and kidnappee. I try to make wide eyes at the security guard as we leave, but Adrian must notice. "Smile like we are just going for a nice lunch together," he commands.
So, I do as I'm told. I'll do as I'm told, at least until I have a better idea of how to escape.
"What happens when I don't show up to testify and no one can find me?"
"It'll make Mr. Blake look even more guilty. They'll assume he got rid of you so you couldn't testify to his abuse and manipulation."
He maneuvers me to a car and my stomach drops. Isn't there a saying about moving to a secondary location? The likelihood of living drops?
My steps falter, but I'm physically no match for this man, and I have no plan. I have to rely on the fact that he wanted me a few weeks ago, and complying will buy me time.
A blonde man with short, buzzed hair sits in the driver's seat and pulls away from the curb before Adrian's got the door shut all the way.
"What happens when Declan can't find me?"
My heart races at the thought of Declan worrying about me, fretting that I've disappeared, imagining the worst. He knows I'd never just disappear. And I hate the thought of causing him any stress when he's taken every one of my stresses away.
"Oh, do not worry about that, Zaya. I have plans for you."
The short car ride is quiet, and I run through every scenario, every angle, every possible escape. All possibilities boil down to getting him to trust me and letting his guard down.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask, sure to keep my voice neutral, uninterested, while staring out the window at the cityscape.
He rests a warm hand on my knee. I hate it. It's the wrong hand, the wrong man. We're in the wrong car, with the wrong driver, heading to...I don't know where.
"I am not a man who is used to not getting what I want."
I nod solemnly. It's simply a man who sees a shiny object and decides he deserves it so he simply takes it. Like a spoiled child.
I place my hand over his. I can play the game. I know he won't believe I've changed my loyalties overnight, but a small peace offering is how it'll start.
We pull up to a shiny new high rise and I follow the driver inside, flanked by Adrian behind. We take the elevator up to the penthouse. The driver, who must also be his bodyguard, stays in the foyer and I let Adrian lead me through his home, and I hesitate when I realize he's leading me to his bedroom.
My nerves ratchet up as I envision what is about to happen.
Adrian bends over me and traces a nose up my neck and a shiver works its way up my spine. "I can smell your fear, zaya." I stiffen. I don't want to be afraid. I refuse to give him that power over me. He is not my dom. Even if he wants to be.
"Take off your clothes. You can leave your bra and panties on," he commands as he shuts the door behind him.
He shrugs off his suit coat and unbuttons his shirt. I can't move. Fear has it's grip on me whether I want it to or not.
Adrian looks up from his buttons when he notices my inaction.
His face softens.
"I am not a man who takes what is not given. This is for a photo opportunity," he says, his voice low and apologetic. "I do not receive pleasure from force. You asked what happens to Declan. Declan will think I have won you willingly and will not look for you."
My stomach drops as I imagine the kind of hurt Declan will feel. He'll get a picture of Adrian and I, and it'll look like we're together. It's the ultimate betrayal. It'll break him. He's learned how to be vulnerable and kind. He's left the spikey protection his anger afforded him and fell in love. For the second time in his entire life.
His first love left him involuntarily when she got into her accident. He'll think I left him voluntary. It breaks my heart to imagine the pain he'll be in. The pain I'll have caused, even if I didn't want to.
I want to resist. I want to insist we don't do this. Figure out a way to convince him not to do this, but I know I have no control in this situation.
He unbuckles his belt and undoes his zipper before kicking off his shoes. He pulls the comforter off of the bed and lays on his back.
"Come, zaya," he motions me to him. And at once I know I have no choice.
I untuck my shirt and strip to my bra and underwear. I lay next to him, in the crook of his arm. He gathers me to him and takes a picture of the worst night of my life.