Chapter Eight
“Now,” Killian says calmly. “I asked you a host of questions, and you ignored them. I don’t appreciate the brattiness—it won’t get you anywhere with me.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Other than punished. Is that what you’re trying to do, my flighty Little Bird? Earn a punishment?”
“I am trying to get away from you,” I snap.
“I am not interested in you. I have zero draw to you. I understand perfectly well that there isn’t shit I can do about the night of the gala and it infuriates me.
I get that you’re bigger, badder, and more powerful.
I’m not disputing that. You can have that fucking win, and I hope it leaves as foul a taste in your mouth as it does in mine.
I don’t want to play your games or earn anything from you—I just want to leave. ”
Killian leans back, appraising me for several moments. “Do you actually think your opinion holds any relevance here? I thought I’d just illustrated I always get what I want.”
“What the hell do you want?” I cry. I’m beyond measuring my words; try as I did to keep my composure, I can’t. Not trapped in a room with this psychopath.
“That changes often,” Killian says with a shrug.
“Right now? You. Don’t worry, it’ll pass.
I expect I’ll get bored before the eight weeks are up, but until then…
” another shrug. “You seem to think that not engaging will make me lose interest, but you’re wrong.
The best way to get me off your back is give me what I want and wait for me to move on.
Stonewalling me only makes me push harder. ”
“Why?” I snap. “Why me? I’m not your enemy—”
“You’re not strong enough to be my enemy,” Killian agrees.
“I’m not your rival, I’m not even big enough fish to be on your radar. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You got what you wanted from me the night of the gala; I have made it painfully clear that I don’t want to spend time with you or give you anything else.”
“That’s what makes it fun,” Killian says.
“You’re perhaps the only woman I’ve encountered in the last several years who doesn’t want me.
The reasons why the others want me aren’t particularly seductive—they desire my money, power, and last name.
You, however, couldn’t care less about those things.
They repel you instead of enticing you. Like I said, novelty. ”
“If I start swooning over you, will that get you to leave me alone?”
“Maybe.” Killian’s brows furrow. “Maybe not. You could always give it a try.”
“I don’t want to give anything a try, I want to leave,” I emphasize. “Let me out of here, please.”
“No, but thank you for asking so nicely. For future reference, I enjoy it when you’re less bitchy and more polite.”
“I’m not polite by nature; I’m a bitch.”
“I don’t believe you.” Killian braces his elbow on the armrest of his chair and leans his hand on his chin. “See, I think that there’s a sweet side of you, but it’s buried beneath layers of trauma.”
I blink, startled by his assessment. Even more startled by the fact that he’s not entirely wrong. I could refute it, but that would only draw out this argument, and I want to minimize the time I spend in his vicinity.
“What do I need to do to get out of this room?” I question.
“Sit down and answer my questions. Participate in whatever that leads to. Then, you’re free to go.
” Killian pauses. “I’m sure I don’t need to reiterate this, but talking to anyone about what happens in here—trying to spread the truth—won’t work.
I dictate what the truth is. At best, you’ll be discredited and pitied for your misconceptions; at worst, you’ll be fired and lauded as the woman who decided to spread lies. ”
“I don’t need your fucking threats,” I snap.
“Good. Then I won’t have to keep reiterating them. Sit. Down.”
Once again, I’m left with no choice. The door is locked; I’m trapped here. The sooner I give Killian what he wants, the faster I get out of here.
Compartmentalize. Put all the trauma in a box and use it as fuel.
It’s in this moment that I decide; Killian won’t see me coming. I can’t escape his depravity, but I will get back at him for what he’s doing. He’ll think he’s cowing me, and in some ways, he will be… but every time he ignores my consent, every bit of pain he inflicts will be repaid tenfold.
I don’t know how I’ll destroy him, but I’ll find a way.
I sink back into my chair, drop my bag beside me, and fold my hands in my lap. Killian nods in approval, taking his time looking me over.
“Is your wardrobe limited, or did you think dressing like an imbecile would put me off?” he asks.
“The latter.”
“For future reference, that won’t work. If you can’t afford to dress appropriately, I’ll have my personal shopper pick up some things for you.”
“I don’t need your clothes or your money.”
Killian looks somewhat disappointed by my retort. “Please don’t tell me you subscribe to the ridiculous notion that the value of money inflates or deflates depending on the source it comes from.”
“I don’t think a blood-soaked dollar bill is worth less than a clean dollar bill at the grocery store, but I’d rather not have the bloody one in my wallet.”
“Well, I suppose that answers my next question—whether you’re interested in compensation for the time we spend together.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “I’m not a whore. I’m not a woman who’ll accept fineries in return for time spent with you and humiliating deeds endured; I’m not here because I want to be. I won’t take shit from you.”
Killian shrugs. “Alright. One less task for me. Do let me know if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
He tilts his head to the side. “You really aren’t after my money, are you? You want nothing from me.”
“Again, I’m not into blood money. I’d rather earn my keep elsewhere, in a place where I’m respected by my peers and superiors.”
“That’s very noble.” Killian sounds bored. “Nobility doesn’t build empires or amass wealth. Savagery does.”
“A topic you’re an expert on.”
“Quite so. Now, back to the questions you rudely ignored—for future reference, I wouldn’t suggest ignoring me—what was the most challenging part of the night we spent together?”
“We didn’t spend a night together. You trapped me in a room, forced me to suck you off, and then hurt me.”
“You were somewhere you shouldn’t have been. I punished you accordingly. You should be grateful that you still have a job, Lyra. I was initially very tempted to ruin you.”
You did ruin me—just not my work life.
“You didn’t answer the question,” he prompts.
“The greatest challenge was preventing myself from throwing up all over your pristine floor.”
Killian’s nose wrinkles. “Yes, that would have ruined the mood. Thank you for containing yourself. Have you always enjoyed pain with sex?”
“I don’t enjoy pain with anything.”
He watches me for a few moments. “Or you don’t think you do. It’s okay to enjoy taboo activities, Lyra. Everyone has their kinks.”
I don’t respond to that, because I don’t want to think about what happened when Killian spanked me. I was humiliated, demeaned, reduced to nothing but a doll he could manhandle and abuse as he wished… and yet, when I showered that night, I realized that he wasn’t lying. I was wet.
In a different life I might’ve explored whether or not I have a masochistic streak. I don’t judge people who have kinks; everyone has their preferred flavors of sex. I only judge those who disregard consent, like the man in front of me.
“And what are yours?” I ask, hands tightening until my knuckles turn white. “What depravities will I be subject to?”
“None you won’t end up enjoying.”
“That’s a tall fucking order, considering I’ve repeatedly told you I’m not interested in you or attracted to you, and I don’t want to be here.”
“You are attracted to me,” Killian says dismissively. “Whether or not you realize it is another matter.”
“And you consider yourself an authority on the subject of who I’m attracted to?”
“Yes. I know people, and I know women. Most of you are surprisingly inept at identifying your own desires.”
“But you can?”
“Yes.”
I shake my head. “You’re a complete narcissist.”
“I’m not narcissistic; I’m confident. There’s a difference.”
“Fine line between confidence and arrogance.”
He smiles. “Fair enough. To address your previous point; you will enjoy your time with me.”
“Just because you decree something doesn’t make it true.”
“You won’t enjoy it because I say you will; you’ll enjoy it because I’m that good.”
I scoff. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
“I don’t need to tell myself anything to sleep at night.
I have no shame or regret over my actions.
I did what I wanted to do. There was only one thing I might’ve regretted about that night…
” He waits for me to take the bait and ask what he could possibly regret, but I don’t.
I simply fix him with a blank, uninterested gaze.
“I didn’t hear you beg enough. I think I’d like to hear much more of it. ”
A cold shiver works its way down my spine. I don’t respond; I can’t. I’m frozen in place, gripped by fear.
“We’re going to fix that today.” He jerks his chin at me. “Take off your clothes.”
“No.” The word is scarcely a whisper, so faint I don’t know if Killian will even hear it… but he does. He rises from his seat and starts walking towards me.
I lose control of my baser instincts, of any intelligence I might have, and bolt to the door. Survival mode takes over; I bang on the wood and scream at the top of my lungs, hoping that the entire building can hear me and that someone—anyone—comes to help me.
My scream is cut short when a hand grips my neck, squeezing harshly enough to cut off the sound. I lose my ability to breathe, to do anything but grasp desperately at the hand and try to claw it off.