CHAPTER 7
HARLEY
I woke up slowly this time. No panic. No sharp pull at my wrists. No cold metal biting into my skin. Just… warmth.
Soft sheets beneath me. The faint scent of something expensive—clean, masculine, a little smoky—still clinging to the air.
For a second, I don’t move.
I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, letting my body catch up to my brain.
And then—
It hits me. Last night. My stomach tightens. Not from fear. From memory. Fragments at first. Hands. His hands. His voice—low, rough, commanding in a way that made something deep inside me unravel completely.
The way he told me what to do. And how easily I listened.
Heat creeps up my neck.
Fuck.
I shift slightly, and my body reminds me exactly what happened. A dull, lingering ache settles low in my muscles, not painful—just enough to make me aware.
My breath slows. Because the worst part? It wasn’t just sex. It was— It was good. No. Not good. It was— mind-blowing. The kind of experience that rewires something in your brain. That makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself. About what you like. About what you need.
The way he handled me—
Owned me. And I… I didn’t fight it. I didn’t even want to. I liked it. Every second of it.
My gaze drifts to the bedside table. A glass of water. A small bottle of pain meds. Already opened. For me. He took care of me. The thought is… unsettling. But not in the way it should be.
The door opens. I don’t flinch this time.I just turn my head.
He still wears the mask. But this time he dressed more casually – black sweatpants, and a matching shirt. He closes the door behind him and looks at me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I’m okay,” I say, my voice quieter than I expect.
“Thanks for… that.”
I nod toward the table where the water and meds were.
“Of course.”
There’s too much unsaid sitting in the room. Too many questions clawing their way up my throat. I push myself up slightly, resting against the headboard. And then I ask the one thing I can’t ignore anymore.
“Who are you?”
The words come out sharper than I intended. But I don’t take them back. He tilts his head slightly.
“Do you truly want to know?”
There’s something in his tone.
“Yes,” I say immediately.
“You literally bought me at some fucked-up secret auction for rich psychopaths,” I add, my voice steady despite the storm building in my chest.
“For ten million dollars.”
I hold his gaze—even if I can’t see his eyes behind the mask.
“The least you can do is tell me who you are.”
“And it’s not like I can go anywhere,” I continue, a bitter edge creeping in.
“I doubt you’d let me leave.”
There’s a silence between us that stretches for what feels like forever. Then—
“Okay.”
Slowly he reaches up, his fingers curl around the edge of the mask.
And then… it drops, hitting the floor with a soft, hollow sound.
And the world stops. My heart stutters in my chest, then starts racing so fast it feels like it might burst.
“No…”
The word slips out before I can stop it.
My vision blurs for a second. Because standing in front of me. Unmasked. Is not a stranger, not some faceless buyer, not some random rich man with a sick obsession.
It’s—
“Pierce…?”
My voice cracks on his name. Him. My stepbrother. The one who disappeared. The one I haven’t seen in… years.
And suddenly everything — snaps into place. The voice. The way he looked at me. The way he touched me.
“You—”
I shake my head, trying to process, trying to breathe.
“You’re the one who—”
Bought me. Owned me. Touched me. Fucked me.
“You’re the one who paid ten million dollars…”
My voice comes out barely above a whisper.
Because I’d never thought that he would be the one behind the mask. The boy I used to know. The one who left me behind. The one I thought I’d never see again.
“You own me now,” I say slowly.
My throat tightens. Because the man who put me through the mattress literally hours ago—
The man who bought me—
The man who now owns me—
Is Pierce.