Chapter 4 #2
“Oh, stop it.” He scoffs. “I saw you at the bar.”
She stills.
“I saw the way you were looking at him. The way you were talking.” His voice rises, defensive turning into accusation. “So don’t stand there and act like this doesn't make you aroused.”
Her brows pull together, disbelief flooding in.
“I wasn't…”
“Flirting?” He cuts in, almost laughing now. “You were practically begging for his attention, Christine.”
Whatever was holding her back snaps.
She goes at him again, no hesitation now, her fists landing harder, faster, fueled by something deeper than anger.
“You disgusting…” she screams. “You jerk… slimy jerk!”
He tries to grab her wrists, to stop her, but she fights through it, hitting him again, and again.
I move then, my hand coming around her, catching her mid-swing, pulling her back before the next hit lands.
She struggles instantly, twisting, trying to break free, but I hold her there, unyielding.
“Let me go.” She snaps, her breath uneven, still trying to lunge forward.
I don’t.
I keep her there, just long enough for the fight to lose its aim, for the distance to register.
“Take him,” I order.
Enzo steps in immediately.
Daniel starts to protest, stumbling back as hands close around him, pulling him toward the door.
Christine’s gaze follows him, her chest rising and falling hard, her body still stiff with everything she hasn’t gotten out.
As soon as the door shuts behind him, she turns on me like she’s been waiting for it, like all that anger needs somewhere to go and I’m the only target left.
“Don’t touch me!” She shoves at my chest, hard, her palms hitting with force that doesn’t quite move me but doesn’t need to.
It’s not about strength. It’s about everything she’s pouring into it.
I let her.
She hits me again. And again.
“You think this is okay?” Her voice booms, rising, breaking under the weight of fear she's trying to hide. “You think you can just walk in here and…what? Decide this for me?”
Another shove.
I don’t stop her. I stand there and take it, watching her break in real time, watching the way her anger spills over.
“This isn’t yours…” She stabs a finger at herself, pushing at me again with her free hand.
Her hands fisting into my shirt, gripping, shaking.
“I am not yours… Do you hear me? I will never belong to you.”
I take a step closer.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I reply quietly. “Because right now, you already do.”
Her eyes fly wide.
“I’m not something he can just give away.”
“No,” I agree. “You’re not.”
That throws her slightly. Which is exactly why I say the next part the way I do.
“This doesn’t have to be complicated.”
She lets out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“Complicated? You think this”
“I can keep you,” I continue, cutting through it. “Until he pays me back.”
Her expression shifts to disgust this time.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then you stay longer.” I hold her gaze.
For a second, she just stares at me. Like she didn’t hear it right. Like her mind is trying to rearrange the words into something that makes sense.
Then it hits.
“No.” Her voice comes out quiet at first. “No…No, I’m not staying here.” She shakes her head, stepping back like distance alone can undo what I’ve said. “You can’t do that. You can’t just keep me here. I’m not…”
Her voice breaks.
Her hands come up, pushing at the air, at me, at the room, like she’s trying to find something solid to fight against.
“I’m not staying here…” She shoots, louder now, panic bleeding fully into it. “Do you hear me? I’m not staying here!”
She turns, looking around like she’s searching for an exit she hasn’t already clocked, her breathing shaky, her chest rising and falling like she can’t get enough air.
“This is insane,” she mumbles, half to herself now, half to me. “This is actually insane.”
Her hand drags through her hair, tugging at it.
“I’m leaving,” she adds quickly, like saying it makes it real. “I’ll walk out. I don’t care who you think you are, I will walk out of here.”
She moves like she means it, but there’s hesitation in it.
Because somewhere in her, she knows this isn’t a place you just walk out of.
“But,” I start, softer now, “There is another option.”
She doesn’t respond.
But she listens.
“Give me one night, Christine.”
That gets her attention.
“Just one,” I continue. “And we’re done. His debt becomes his problem again.”
“What?” Her eyes search my face, like she’s trying to find the trick in it.
I almost smile.
“To put it plainly, Christine, I want to fuck you through the night.”
Her eyes stay on mine, searching harder now, like she missed something, like there’s supposed to be a second meaning hidden underneath it that makes this less… real.
“But I need your blessing to do that.” I continue.
Her lips part slightly, but nothing comes out this time. Her breath stutters instead, like her body doesn’t know how to process it before her mind does.
“Blessing?” She repeats, the word almost offensive in her mouth. “You think putting it like that makes it better?”
“You’ve already said my name once tonight.”I drag.
Her breath catches.
“Just keep it for the rest of the night as I make you come in real time.”
That hits exactly where I want it to.
I wait.