Chapter 30

***Rosella….***

Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!

He knows!

I can't move. I can't breathe. I can only stare, in paralyzing terror.

A feeling of being completely trapped comes over me. Suddenly, I've lost all of my confidence and act of defiance. I'm feeling underdressed. I keep tugging down the black shirt I've put on. I had not wanted to go so far and wear his clothes. But I soaked my robe by accident when I was taking my third shower this evening. After rummaging through the numerous drawers and cabinets, I'd finally found a set of evening shirts. I chose black because after trying on each one, it felt like the longest one. It reaches down to the middle of my thighs but in a sitting position, it rides up.

And because of that, I'm unable to get rid of my constant blushing. I don't know why I'm feeling so self-conscious now. He has seen all of me. There's no hiding from him.

But something about the fact that he can't touch me though he wants to, is making this whole experience exciting for me. I've never felt like this before. And to intensify my emotional roller-coaster ride, he allowed his tongue to slip and revealed my scariest nightmare.

He had already caught me off guard when instead of sneaking through the balcony, he strolled in through the door. I was so not ready for it but I'd managed just fine. I think.

But now, he has dropped the atom bomb. No matter how much I try not to react, I can't help but stay still and just stare at the intimidating man who's sitting on my bed, his back straight and arms crossed, long legs parted slightly. The expression on his strong stubborn face is nearly impassive. But the electric blue of his eyes makes him appear so… vibrant?

His white button down shirt that hugs him like a second skin, isn't helping either. It's only sending my mind into a conflict with my heart. I'm torn in between focusing on the part where he knows about my dual life or focusing on the part where he's acutely aware of my body.

He hasn't stopped dragging his blue blue eyes up and down my body, making me squirm over and over again. There's not even an inch of discomfort on his face. He knows exactly what he's doing.

He's trying to seduce me in some perverted way.

Trying to turn me on.

I feel horrible for responding to his salacious gaze and the aura of power and command that seems to surround him even when he's relaxed. Maybe I should have taken up Bert's advice and stayed huddled under the comforter on the bed. I break away from his face and stare at the sheets with longing. The cold breeze carrying in through the windows that I opened, are only making me shiver like a fluttering leaf.

“Are you cold? Do you want to get on the bed?” He asks me in an unbelievably soft voice. My eyes snap back to his face. He seems sincerely concerned. I nod after a brief pause, my movements wary of his next move.

But he makes no move. Just scuttles to the foot of the bed and pats the bed in invitation as though patting for his pet to jump on his gesture and get on his thighs. Anger replaces some of my fear, as defiance edges in my demeanour.

I lift up my chin and abandon the armchair to climb up on the bed. But he doesn't make it easy for me. Just as I'm about to put my hands and knees on the bed to crawl to the other side, he places his trouser clad feet up on the bed, crossing them at the ankles. I'm left with no choice but to swing my leg over his feet… which makes the lower portion of the shirt to part. Heat spreads on my cheeks when I catch his eyes exactly in between my thighs. I try to be as modest as I can in such a compromised situation and skip to the other side, sitting diagonally from him as I slip under the comforter with a suppressed sigh.

“Balthazar showed me the papers of your debt. That's when I got to know.” He speaks after a few beats. I knew this was coming but that doesn't stop from tensing up as I process the piece of information.

“You knew all along.” I say it more like a statement than a question. But he answers anyway.

“Yes, I did.” He waits for something. I give him a detached look. “But I didn't know about your other name until you told me.”

“Didn't Balthazar tell you that?” I ask, shocked.

Don't tell me I hit the nail in my own head!

“No. He never even mentioned that you were living two lives. It's most likely that he didn't care and that's why he didn't dig in deeper to know more about you.”

All of a sudden, I'm feeling chilled. It's like his words are icicles and he's poking me with them. Sweet mother of… I had told him that name thinking that he'll think of me as a lost orphan and won't be able to get to my past, where my parents and Nana belong.

Now, he doesn't only knows about my past life but he must have found out about my life in New York as well. My profession, my friends, my apartment, my qualifications… these are the kind of moments that push a person to commit suicide, I'm damn sure.

I brought all of this upon myself. All because of my inexperience and naivety. I was able to cope with everything so far only because I knew that no one else was in danger with me. I was the only one to suffer, my friends and family were all clearly in the safe zone.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“What are you going to do now? Blackmail me or something? Hurt my family and friends, huh?” I ask him in a dead tone, my shoulders drop as the reality sinks in. Remorseful tears well up in my eyes as I stare straight ahead, seeing nothing.

“Those are the things Balthazar did to you, didn't he?” His tone holds a hint of fury when he clips out the obvious question.

My head moves on its own accord, nodding twice.

“But I'm not Balthazar, Pearl.” His tone shifts into tenderness as he continues. “I'm going to keep my words, I never break them. Your new passport and visa will be ready in under two weeks. My men will drive to the airport and see you off safely. The apartment that you had on leash in New York, I've bought it for you. You'll return to your life like you never left it. It's been less than a month since you disappeared from your neighborhood, so you can make up an excuse and say that you were on a vacation to London. The tickets I've brought you will back you up. Nothing is going to change. You can pick up from where you left. Like all this in between never happened.”

“Are you kidding me? Because if you are then this is just beyond sick.”

“I'm not the kind of man to take such things so lightly, Miss. Frost. I'm not kidding. I'll show you your passport as soon as I have it in my possession.”

For the first few seconds, I just sit there, blinking like an idiot. Then I snap out of it and whip around to search for him with wild eyes because he's longer sitting on the edge. My heart is rabbiting inside my chest with sheer astonishment and bewilderment. But my breathing is getting too shallow, as I'm scared too, that either he's lying or I'm dreaming.

I don't have to pinch myself to strike out the possibility that I'm dreaming, as when I spot him standing out at the balcony, I scramble down the bed, tangling in the sheets and trip off of the edge. My knees and elbows scream with pain when I hit the cold tiled floor but I ignore it and climb up to my feet.

When I'm standing right behind him, out on the balcony, he turns to face me without a word.

“Why are you doing this? Are you really going to let me go, just like this? After paying a billion dollars to get me, which was completely inappropriate, you're not going to make me pay you back? Isn't it like I owe you or something? You've even bought me my own apartment! I don't know what to make of this. But it's so wrong on so many levels. This is just too good to be true. Please just tell me why. I'm sick of playing this game of captive where I'm not even a captive but just a possession to pass along. First my parents, then Balthazar and now y-you.”

I stare up at him with desperation, hoping to find something in his expression or at least, in his eyes. But he gives nothing away. A long moment of silence passes in between us. I've almost convinced myself that he's never going to tell me. So when I hear his voice, I'm taken aback.

“I'm doing this because this is what I do. I buy girls under this fake illusion that I'm going to use them. But I do not even touch them. I send those girls straight to a rehabilitation facility for traumatised women that was started by my late mother. My father was into human trafficking. But my mother wiped him off, somehow and converted his private dungeon into a rehab. After her death, I took over and continued with what she had started. And still I don't have any desire to stop. But yes, I want to stop this trafficking business and I'm well on my way to tear down the underground world. I've saved countless numbers of girls but it was never enough, so I started plucking out roots of the cause. And then you came along and turned everything upside down.”

He gazes at me with real suffering in his eyes then winces, as though it hurts him to even look at me. It makes my heart twist painfully. He turns away from me to face the moon as he continues in his soulful voice.

“You see, Miss. Frost. I seem to have lost all of my focus and sense of priorities since the day I saw you standing up to Balthazar in his own basement with nothing but courage. I could sense you trembling inside out from fear but you chose to fight the battle you knew you were never going to win. And that amazed me. You're like none of the women I've been with before. Your innocence and unpredictability is my undoing. Like Bert says, you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Huh, but more surprisingly, I believe that you must not have any idea.”

I shake my head though he can't see me. I really didn't have any idea I was capable of that. I thought I was only good at driving people away, not having them wrapped around myself or my finger.

“I want you so much… I broke all of my rules for you. But still, I can't have you. I can't force you to want me back. I came here tonight to get some answers out of you, about your past. But mostly, I came here to manipulate you, to take away all of your choices and make you feel desperate and seek comfort in me. But yet again, you have turned the tables on me. Instead of making you tell me about your past, I'm spilling my guts like a bastard.”

“I know it's wrong to invade your life and try to plant myself in your heart but I don't care. Unless you willingly let me in, which I know is never going to happen, I can't have you. I've come too close to losing you forever. I don't want to let you go. I want to tie you down to my bed and use you over and over again till this burning desire to claim you, possess you, own you and tear you apart quiets down. Then I want to do it all over again till I can't do it anymore. You look so naive, innocent and vulnerable but people don't realise how dangerous you can be, for men like me. I'm not a good man, Miss. Frost and I never claimed to be. I might be the son of a woman who wanted to set this world free of crime but I'm also the son of that father who wanted nothing more than to drown this world into crime.”

“Do you really want me as much as I think you do?” I ask in a whisper. My vision has become a blur because of my tears, which came up without warning.

He doesn't respond, just walks away to the edge of the balcony. The moon casts him half in a shadow as he turns back to face me.

“Are you speaking the truth, tell me? I need to know.” I ask him again, choking on my tears. My mind races as I search his charged eyes, my breathing turning shallow.

“Yes, Miss. Frost. I want you more than you can even imagine.” He says softly but with conviction and it's all it takes for me to shatter under his inescapable gaze.

“Oh God!” I sob then move towards him with my arms raised.

But he stops me. “Hold on! What do you think you're doing, Miss. Frost?”

My arms drop to my side as I stare up at him, dejected. “I was going to hug you. I don't know what else to do.”

Something dark flashes across his face when his eyes flicker down to my figure at my last confession. But he quickly recovers it with a small smile. “I think we have to settle with words only. You can't touch me.”

“What? Why? You made a promise. Not me.” I protest indignantly.

“I know. But alas, if you touch me then my words will no longer have any meaning. And you don't want me anywhere near you, not when I'm unleashed, especially in this mood.” His expressions turn pensive as he gazes at me.

A wild hunger rises in his eyes, dilating his pupils as he swallows evidently. His gaze turns unfocused as he relentlessly drinks me in, as if trying to embed my image in his mind; every petty detail.

My own mouth runs dry as my mind goes haywire with an euphoric feeling. Something inside me dies… then reborns in the next few seconds, where we share a moment of independent connection. He has warned me off. Now it's my turn to make the decision.

I can hand him over the power or I can hold on to it till I'm gone. I can let him in or I can forget about him. He won't get to have a say. I have the upper hand, only I can make the call. I play with my choices for a while.

“Let me get this straight.” I speak slowly as I pace in front of him. “If I put even a single finger on you then it will be equal to handing you back the power to manhandle me? Am I right?”

“I think you should watch your words, Miss. Frost. They can get you in deep trouble, sometimes. But I should say you've got it right.” He uses his deep intimidating voice to scare me off. But it only excites me. His blue eyes aren't bright anymore, they have turned dangerously dark and for some inexplicable reason, I like the darkness more than the light. He hasn't lost the spark though, his eyes are still charged with undercurrents of something forbidden. Just like his body has tensed up and turned taut and erect.

I wish I had some experience in this department. I'm totally lacking as to how to interpret his actions and my response to them. But even my experience can't stop me now, because for the first time in my life, someone has really wanted me as I am. It's wrong and it's completely possible that I've acquired Stockholm Syndrome for my Master. But tonight, it doesn't matter. He opened his soul for me, told me about his past. This is the least I can do for him now.

I decide to toy with him a little more. Not because he seems to be enjoying it. But because it's exciting me beyond my imagination.

“Is that a warning?” I ask in a low voice, arching my brow.

He looks thoughtful as he replies. “It is, if you're thinking of doing something reckless and dangerous.”

I ignore his comment and backtrack a little. “You said that those words can get me in deep trouble, sometimes. What about the other times?”

To answer my whispered question, he leans forward and tilts his head so that his mouth is near my ears, but not touching. I stand with my arms crossed, frozen as he breaths gruffly. “They get you fucked, Miss. Frost.”

I gasp out loud, my entire body lighting up from inside with carnal heat. I did not see it coming. Flames of desire lick at my core and for the first time in my life, I feel wetness pooling in between my thighs.

I feel high!

~~~~

***Adrian…. ***

I watch her with barely controlled desire. The urge to slam her up against the wall and take my command back is so persistent that I have to uncross my arms and reach behind me to hold on to the cold railing.

The knowledge that she's a virgin, that she has never been touched before by anyone is doing nothing but adding fuel to my erupting darkness. She looks so timid and lost in comparison to the mature and experienced women I've been with. Is that why they could never hold my interest for long? Whereas, my esclave has bewitched me. Somehow, the fact that taking her is wrong and forbidden, is only heightening my anticipation.

She has made up her mind. She's going to give me what I want, what I need, what I crave. And that's her. I can see right through. She's turned on. She wants me. But astonishingly, she still hasn't realized it. She has started to appear uncomfortable. Her flush has turned a shade darker and she's unable to meet my eyes.

I wish I could touch her. I would have clasped her chin and made her look at me with those fathomless eyes. I would have told her that it's okay. She can let go and let me handle this.

But she hasn't touched me yet. I can't mold her decision to choose me. She needs to choose me over her life in order for me to make her mine and give her everything that I have.

Maybe she needs a little push.

I clear my throat, catching her attention and skirt around her to go back inside the room. She follows me like a lost puppy and I temp down my urge to take her face in my hands and kiss her hesitation away.

Walking to the bed, I sit down and glance at the face and clock. We have got the whole night but I don't want her to waste it overthinking. Can she change her mind? I have no way to know. I study her silently as she closes the windows and pulls down the curtains, leaving the room partially dark. She walks around the bed, slowly, on her tiptoes, as though afraid to disturb the quietness.

“My parents sent me away to America with Nana when I was 7 years old.” She begins, her voice neutral. I stay still and listen to her carefully as she goes on. “Nobody told me why. Nana just showed up one day and took me away. I didn't realise that we were leaving the country till we got to the airport and boarded the local plane to Ireland on a fake passport. I don't remember how my grandfather convinced me to stay there with him but I got settled in a neighborhood and joined a local school.”

She pauses to take a deep breath and I feel the comforter rustle as she slips under it. To get comfortable, I guess. “I got a call from my father 3 years ago. He told me he wanted me back. I was ecstatic but when I got there, I found them tied up and taped in their own house. They told me to run away and hide. I didn't question their motive, just turned my back and left Europe. Ended up in America. Exactly in New York. I changed my identity, took up a job and completed my studies. I was just going through the days and nights. Then one day, three weeks ago, when I was at my workplace with my only friends, I got a call from Balthazar. He was waiting for me in my apartment with my parents. My parents signed some documents in front of my eyes and told me that they were sorry but as the first born I had to pay this debt. I tried to fight but I couldn't win. The day I tried to escape, was the day I ended up in the basement where you saw me for the first time. After that I never got any chance to do anything because Balthazar had started to keep me drugged, most of the time. I knew that the debt was fake by then but he didn't care and sold me to you at the auction. The rest, you already know.”

When she's finished, she falls very quiet. Only the sounds of our deep breathing echo in the dim light coming from the bedside lamp. I know nothing I say will change anything. So, I decide not to speak and remain her quiet companion.

I had almost forgotten that the drug is still inside her veins. I will have to find a way to extract it out of her before it wipes out her memories or does her any harm.

I turn my head to look at her. But I'm taken above when I find her face right next to me. I stop breathing. She's staring at my lips, her eyes clear and focused.

“I've never been touched before. I never even kissed any guy. I was always so wrapped up in my own baggage that I couldn't think past my insecurities and mistrust. Do you still want me? I'm no good in bed. I don't have any experience. And I truly believe that I'm going to mess this up big time. Do you think you can be patient with me? Show me my footings? Teach me to obey you? Train me to please you? Or what's that you call it…. make me SUBMIT to you like your good little ESCLAVE?”