Flora's POV
My mind was no longer in the strokes Lucian was dishing to me from behind. They affected my physical frame no doubt as he made sure with each thrust, he shifted me a few inches.
Jonathan was still fixated on the action even when he saw my eyes locked into his. I was embarrassed, and by all means, needed him to leave. But he wouldn't budge.
Lucian was going on and on, grunting and muttering to himself. He was engrossed and enjoying every bit of the moment. His hands held my ass together at some point, closing my legs tight so I could feel every inch of him.
He was getting close to his orgasm from the way his pace increased, slamming into me like a pump machine.
“Oh fuck,” he exclaimed, jerking all over me in his failed attempt to pull out. “That was so nice, Dahlia. Damn! I love this ass!” He bent and kissed my ass cheeks.
I was too tired to change positions, so I just stayed arched the way he kept me, closing my eyes to rest.
He was gone when I opened them, the door left wide ajar. Jonathan was no longer standing there either. He must have left once he saw Lucian pull out.
‘Motherfuckers,”I cursed and adjusted to a sitting position. My loins were on fire and the effect of all Lucian had done came rushing. I couldn't try standing immediately if I valued my legs. So, I decided to lay back, to think about my next move.
The room was silent, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound as I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My body ached, a dull reminder of Lucian’s touch. Every nerve in my body wanted to recoil, to escape, but I couldn’t afford to act rashly again.
I thought of the last time I tried to run, the fear that gripped me when Jonathan held that gun to my head. The memory still lingered like a bad taste in my mouth. Running wasn’t an option anymore. Lucian was too powerful, too calculating. If I tried to flee, I knew I wouldn’t make it far.
I needed a new plan—a smarter one.
Turning on my side, I stared at the far wall, my thoughts racing. If I couldn’t outrun Lucian, perhaps I could outwit him. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. He saw himself as untouchable, unbreakable. But everyone had weaknesses, didn’t they?
I bit my lip, the beginnings of an idea forming in my mind. If I wanted my freedom, I had to get close to him—closer than he already allowed. I had to find his Achilles’ heel and exploit it. The very idea made me sick to my stomach, but it was the only way.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my nerves. I didn’t know much about Lucian beyond his dominance and cruelty. But if I observed carefully, I could learn. Every person had a tell, a crack in their armor. I just needed to find his and use it against him.
The more I thought about it, the more the plan solidified in my mind. I would stay. I would act the part he wanted me to play—submissive, compliant. And while he thought I was under his control, I would be silently chipping away at his defenses.
It was dangerous, but it was the only way.
After a while, I sat up, my body heavy with exhaustion but my resolve stronger than ever. I couldn’t afford to let my emotions control me anymore. This wasn’t about revenge or pride; it was about survival.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor. My gaze drifted toward the mirror on the far side of the room, and as I caught my reflection, something caught my eye.
The necklace.
I walked closer to the mirror, my hand instinctively reaching for the silver chain around my neck. It had moved again. The pendant that rested near the base of my throat had shifted, inching lower than it had been before.
What did it mean?
I stared at it for a long moment, my thoughts swirling with questions. The necklace had always been a mystery to me, a gift from my mother with no explanation. It felt like more than a trinket, but I couldn’t decipher its significance.
Shaking my head, I turned away from the mirror and headed to the bathroom. A hot shower was what I needed to clear my mind and focus.
The bathroom was spacious and luxurious, the kind of place that screamed wealth and power. Marble tiles gleamed under the soft light, and the massive tub looked more like a small pool. But I ignored all of that, heading straight for the shower…
As the water cascaded over me, I closed my eyes and let the warmth seep into my muscles. It felt like a temporary escape, a moment of solace in a world that felt increasingly suffocating…
I stayed under the water longer than I intended, letting it wash away the tension and grime of the day. By the time I stepped out, my skin was flushed pink from the heat.
Wrapping a towel around myself, I padded back into the bedroom, feeling marginally better. But the moment I stepped into the room, I froze.
Jonathan was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me.
My breath caught in my throat, and my grip on the towel tightened. He hadn’t been there when I went into the bathroom. How long had he been waiting?
“Jonathan,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away. Slowly, he turned to face me, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes scanned me briefly, but his face remained impassive.
“Relax,” he said finally, his voice low and calm. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
Despite his words, I felt my body tense. He wasn’t holding a gun this time, but his presence was enough to put me on edge.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice firmer now.
Jonathan stood, his movements slow and deliberate. His gaze never left mine as he approached. My heart pounded in my chest, my instincts screaming at me to back away, but I was rooted in place.
As he came closer, my grip on the towel faltered, and before I could catch it, it slipped from my hands, pooling at my feet.
A gasp escaped my lips, and I instinctively covered myself with my arms. But Jonathan didn’t react the way I expected.
He crouched down, picking up the towel with a calm precision that unnerved me. Without a word, he stepped closer and wrapped it around me, his hands gentle but firm.
I stared at him, my mind racing with questions. What was he doing? Why was he being so... kind?
Jonathan stepped back, giving me space. He glanced at the bed, where the rumpled sheets from earlier still lay.
“I’m on your side,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.