Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Evelyn
I ended up changing into that godforsaken lingerie in the cramped bathroom—if those pathetically thin straps even counted as one. Thank God I'd worn an oversized trench coat today. I cinched the belt tight enough to cut off circulation, managing to wrap myself up completely.
Walking out of the bar, I spotted the Rolls-Royce waiting at the curb.
What was in store for me tonight? Torture? Or would I vanish like Richard? No—probably worse. He disappeared, but at least he had a daughter searching the world for him. If I evaporated from this world, there wouldn't be anyone to claim the body.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk to the car. A tall bodyguard emerged from the shadows and opened the door.
I clenched my jaw, bent down, and slid into the spacious back seat. The bodyguard immediately shut the door behind me.
The confined space made my heart race, especially considering who was sitting beside me.
Victor sat there, perfectly composed. He wore a dark bespoke suit, his long legs casually crossed, his chiseled features hidden in the car's shadows.
I sat stiffly against the leather seat, every muscle tensed, waiting for the storm to hit. But there was only deathly silence. Victor said nothing, just watched me in the dim light.
That wordless stare made my scalp crawl. Even though he was the one stalking me.
"All right, Victor, let's talk about how you knew I was there."
"You want to know?" Victor let out a low, cold laugh. He looked displeased. "Because I own the place. And you, Evelyn—you dare show up at my establishment, dressed like that, to mess around with another man?"
Shit. I swore internally. That dive bar was his, too? His empire stretched into every corner of this city—how was I supposed to keep track of every single property?
"Save it, Victor." I pushed down my panic and met his gaze coldly, throwing it right back at him. "Even that old bastard Richard never controlled who I drank with. You think you can?"
Victor seemed infuriated by that. His expression didn't change, but I felt the danger instantly.
"Richard?" Victor's laugh sent chills down my spine, his voice dripping with undisguised menace. "You're about to find out, Evelyn, that I'm far more difficult to deal with than that waste of a father."
The moment he finished speaking, he moved. He roughly shoved aside my coat. His punishing hand slid up my bare inner thigh, hooked the pathetic excuse for underwear, and jammed his fingers inside without warning.
"Ah—" I gasped at the pain, my body jerking toward the door. But Victor's grip was iron. He clamped down on my thigh and dragged me back.
"Let go!" I struggled, shoving at his wrist, but it was useless.
Victor leaned in close to my face. Those violent eyes locked onto mine.
"Tell me," his gaze dropped from my face to my pinned thigh, "what exactly is your relationship with that detective?"
"Professional." I forced the words through clenched teeth. "I pay, he investigates. It's none of your—"
"Did you fuck him?"
"What the hell are you—"
"Answer me." His thumb ground inside me. The intense stimulation made my leg spasm.
I bit my lip, forcing down that involuntary shudder, and lifted my chin to meet his eyes.
"As a completely independent single woman, I'll see whoever I want, sleep with whoever I want. It's none of your goddamn business. Get your filthy hands off me."
I glared at him through tears, making my position clear.
Victor's throat produced a short, cold laugh.
"Single. You've got some nerve, Evelyn."
He pressed harder. I gasped in pain.
"A woman who pines after her ex-fiancé, then seduces her ex-fiancé's father, and now meets other men in third-rate bars." He moved closer to my face, his tone full of mockery. "What kind of treatment do you think you deserve?"
Before I could process the viciousness in those words, Victor's right hand pulled a pink pill from his suit pocket. The next second, he shoved it into my mouth, then jammed his fingers down my throat. The pill was brutally forced down my esophagus.
I doubled over, coughing violently. Stomach acid surged up my throat. I tried desperately to vomit it up—but it was too late.
"What did you give me..." My voice came out hoarse and broken.
He didn't answer.
Then a black velvet blindfold brushed across my cheek.
"No—"
I swatted at it, but he easily deflected my hand. The silky fabric covered my eyes. His fingertips grazed the stray hairs by my ear as he tied a knot at the back of my head.
The world plunged into complete darkness.
My vision was completely stolen. In this narrow, sealed compartment, all my other senses amplified infinitely in the blackness.
A strange heat erupted from deep in my abdomen. I started panting uncontrollably. Sweat instantly broke out on my forehead, but my hands were pinned behind my back—I couldn't touch myself or wipe the sweat from my face.
Where the hell was the AC? I was burning up; my skin felt like it had been set on fire from the inside.
Victor gave me no time to recover. A cold breeze swept across my lower body—he'd ripped open my coat.
And my first thought wasn't shame. It was thank God.
The moment cool air hit my burning skin, I nearly sighed in relief. That lingerie with its few straps was exposed, and I felt liberated—being stripped felt far less terrible than being burned alive. I almost wished he'd tear off those straps too, let more cold air touch my skin before I combusted.
I couldn't care less what kind of look he was giving me. Whatever. Look all you want. I was too hot to feel shame anymore.
Then something coated in cold liquid pressed against my most sensitive spot. My whole body went rigid. The liquid had an intense menthol sting—so cold I gasped.
Wait.
My brain might have been half-cooked, but it wasn't completely fried. I knew what this was. Of course I knew. A wave of humiliation crashed over me—but right behind it came an even more mortifying realization.
I was anticipating it. My body was anticipating it being pushed inside.
It was that pink pill.
Damn it, that animal had drugged me.
Before I could turn that rage into words, Victor moved. No transition—he brutally forced the thing inside me.
I screamed. The painful stretch of the foreign object invading me swept through my entire body.
Then Victor pressed the remote.
High-frequency vibrations exploded in my deepest core, and the drug detonated completely. The pain vanished within seconds, replaced by a strange, devastating pleasure. It bypassed my brain entirely, taking over my spine, my nerves, every muscle.
I couldn't control myself anymore.
I could only arch my back, gasping for air. I wanted to escape but instinctively moved toward the source of my torment. Broken, sweet moans leaked from my mouth—disgusting. How could I make sounds like that?
My mind was blank. Nothing left. My ability to think, my dignity, everything the name Evelyn Gray represented—all burned to ash under this extreme pleasure.
Victor moved closer. His low, rough voice scraped against my eardrums, laced with sick possessiveness.
"Say it. Who do you belong to?"
His rough fingertips mercilessly ground against the most sensitive nerves on my chest. A jolt like electricity shot straight to the top of my head.
I bit down hard on my lip, using the last shred of my willpower to resist. I would not bow to a thug. I wasn't a dog he could train with one pill.
My resistance clearly enraged Victor. He swore under his breath, and the consequences landed on me.
That damned toy inside me was turned up. The savage pleasure seized control of my body. It crashed over me in waves, forcing my body to gush embarrassing amounts of fluid, making a complete mess of the leather seat.
I arched my back high like a shameless whore, sharp cries spilling from my mouth that disgusted even me. Just when I thought I'd lose my mind completely, Victor's large, rough hand clamped around my throat.
He pinned me against the seat with one hand while the other gripped the base of that still-vibrating toy. Without warning, he started pumping it in and out brutally.
"Ah—!"
The dizziness from oxygen deprivation and the terrible friction below exploded simultaneously. Every thrust felt like he was trying to impale me, the vibrations hammering my most vulnerable flesh.
My lungs felt ready to burst. My legs spasmed from the extreme stimulation, squeezing his forearm desperately. I couldn't even tell if I was struggling or begging for more.
I couldn't take it anymore.
The drug had completely consumed me. My hips moved beyond my brain's control, arching up shamelessly to meet the source of my torture. Tears streamed down, soaking through the silk blindfold, dripping into my collar.
When the final dizzying wave of climax rolled over me, I heard a hoarse voice, wrecked from excessive moaning.
"I'm yours... turn it off... please... I can't take it anymore... please..."
The voice was broken, sweet, sickeningly pathetic.
I couldn't believe it belonged to me.
I couldn't believe that proud Evelyn Gray was now spread-legged, crying and begging before a mafia Don.
My pride lasted, at most, ten minutes.
In the darkness, Victor made a satisfied grunt. He seemed to relish my complete collapse.
With a wet sound, he finally pulled that tormenting thing out of me.
Before I could draw a full breath, he spread my legs and drove himself inside.
I threw my head back and cried out. He started thrusting, each one brutal enough to nail me through the seat. I shook violently beneath him, my back scraping against the leather, making teeth-grinding sounds.
"Tell me." Victor's lips were almost against my ear. "What do you really want from me?"
My brain was mush. The drug's aftereffects still churned inside me. I couldn't think anymore.
Fuck it. Fuck all of it.
"Victor! What gives you the right to treat me like this!" I screamed into the darkness. "Why did you have to destroy everything I had?"
I could have had a normal life. Been a lawyer, rented a sunny apartment, gotten a cat, maybe gone to dinner with a man who wouldn't kill me when I felt like it. That was my entire life plan. Before my dad disappeared.
Now it was all gone.
I fumbled in the darkness, trying to grab this damned man and demand answers, but I couldn't catch hold of anything—just like my life.
"Which aspect are you referring to?"
Compared to my near-breakdown, Victor's tone was calm and detached, which drove me even crazier.
"Don't play dumb!" I gritted my teeth, my voice distorting under Victor's thrusts. "You know who I'm looking for, and he disappeared at your manor!"
By the time the last word left my mouth, I finally broke down completely.
Three months. For three months, I'd been running, searching, desperately telling myself he was alive. Because I couldn't stop and face the truth. Once I stopped, I'd have to confront the answer I'd been running from since day one.
If Richard was fine, how could he not contact me? He loved me, just as I loved him. I lost my mother when I was seven. I couldn't bear this pain again.
"You monster." I sobbed in despair. "Why didn't you just kill me too?"