Chapter 24 OWNERSHIP

Chapter 24 OWNERSHIP
Wyatt's POV

She's still collapsed on the table, trembling, her body covered in my marks. The bruises, bite marks, handprints on her hips and ass. She looks destroyed. Just the way i had intended.

She needs to understand what happens when she forgets who she belongs to.

'Get dressed,' I say, my voice flat.

She doesn't move. She just lies there, her breath coming in short gasps, her face pressed against the cold metal of the table. I look down at the shredded remains of her dress on the floor. The fabric is torn beyond repair. I destroyed it when I ripped it off her. There's nothing left of it that would cover her properly. I groan internally.

I unbutton my shirt and shrug out of it, then remove my jacket. I walk over to her and she flinches when I get close, her body instinctively trying to curl away from me.

'Don't,’ I growl, ‘Ever try to move away from me.’' I say sharply. 'Stay still.'

She freezes. I pull her upright and she winces, her body clearly in pain. I slip my shirt over her head, helping her arms through the sleeves. It's too big on her, falling to mid-thigh, but it covers the essentials. I put my jacket over it, leaving it unbuttoned.

'Can you walk?' I ask.

She tries to stand and her legs immediately give out. I catch her before she hits the floor.

'I'll take that as a no,' I mutter.

I lift her into my arms. She's lighter than I expected, all delicate bones and soft curves. She doesn't fight me or protest. Just lets her head fall against my chest, too exhausted to do anything else. I carry her out of the warehouse to where my car is waiting. The driver sees us coming and quickly opens the back door.

'Sir,' he says, his eyes carefully averted from Constantine's state.

'Drive,' I order as I slide into the back seat with her still in my arms.

The driver gets behind the wheel and pulls away from the warehouse. Constantine is silent the entire ride, her breathing shallow, her body trembling against mine. I don't speak either. There's nothing to say.
She broke the rules. She let another man touch her. And now she knows what happens when she does.

When we arrive at my building, I carry her through the lobby. The security guard takes one look at us and wisely says nothing. The elevator ride up to the penthouse is silent. Constantine's eyes are closed now, her face pale. For a moment I think she's passed out, but then I feel her fingers curl slightly into my jacket. She's awake, just weak.

The elevator doors open directly into my penthouse. I carry her through the living room, down the hall, to my bedroom. I've never brought anyone here before. This is my private space. But she's moving in now. She's going to be here every night where I can see her, control her, make sure she doesn't have any more opportunities to betray me. Because when I saw her let him kiss her lips, these lips that I own, I saw red. I wanted to pull the trigger everywhere in that motherfucker's body.

I set her down on the edge of my bed and she immediately tries to curl into herself, wrapping her arms around her body.

'Stay there,' I tell her.

I go to my closet and pull out what I need. A small remote-controlled vibrator equipped with a proximity sensor I had custom-made.
When I return to the bed, Constantine is exactly where I left her. Such a good girl. I'd reward her for it later.

'Lie back,' I order.

She looks up at me, confusion and fear in her eyes. 'What—'

'Lie back, Constantine. Don't make me repeat myself.'

She slowly leans back onto the mattress, her body stiff with tension.
I push my shirt up her thighs and she instinctively tries to close her legs.

'Don't.' I warn.

She forces herself to stay still as I position the vibrator at her entrance, then push it inside. She gasps, her body clenching around the intrusion.
'This,' I say, holding up the remote, 'is set to activate automatically if you move more than fifteen feet away from me. It's also set to activate if I press this button. And it won't stop until I decide to turn it off.'

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. 'You can't—'

'I can do whatever I want.' I pull the shirt back down, covering her. 

'You're mine, Птичка. Every second of every day. And this is going to remind you of that fact whenever you start to forget.'

I press the button.

The vibrator hums to life and she cries out, her back arching off the bed, her nails digging into the sheets.

'Wyatt, please—'

I turn it off. She collapses back onto the mattress, gasping.

'That's what happens when you disobey,' I say calmly. 'When you try to leave. When you forget who owns you. Do you understand?'

'Yes,' she whispers.

'Yes, what?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good girl.' I slip the remote into my pocket. 'Now stay here. I need to take care of something.'

She looks at me with those wounded blue eyes. I ignore it and I go to the bathroom and start the shower, adjusting the temperature. Then I return to the bedroom and lift her again. She makes a small sound of pain but doesn't protest. I carry her into the bathroom and set her down in the shower. She leans against the wall, barely able to stand.

'Don't move,' I tell her.

I strip off my  pants, leaving them on the floor. Then I step into the shower with her, still wearing my undershirt and boxers. The water hits us both and she flinches.

'Hold still,' I order.

I wash her, soaping her hair, her body, cleaning away the evidence of what I did to her. She doesn't speak. Doesn't move unless I tell her to.
When I'm satisfied she's clean, I turn off the water and grab a towel. I dry her off, then wrap her in it.

'Go to bed,' I say.

She walks unsteadily back to the bedroom. I watch as she climbs under the covers, her body immediately curling into a ball. I dry myself off quickly and change into fresh clothes. Black jeans and black t-shirt. 
When I return to the bedroom, she's already asleep. Or pretending to be. Either way, her breathing has evened out. I stand there for a moment, looking at her. Even exhausted and broken, even covered in bruises, she's beautiful. And she's mine.

I leave the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

I get into my car and drive to the hospital where that jerk lay. The hospital is quiet at this hour. Visiting hours are long over, but that doesn't matter when you own half the city. I walk through the corridors like I belong here, and no one stops me. They wouldn't dare.

I find Matthew Turner's room easily enough. He's alone, lying in bed with his arm bandaged and elevated. He's awake, staring at the ceiling.
He doesn't hear me enter until I'm standing right next to his bed.

'What—' He turns his head and his eyes widen when he sees me. 'You. I'm guessing you did this as you took her away. You're Mr Gorshkovsky whatever.’

'Me,' I agree pleasantly.

He tries to sit up and winces, his hand going to his injured arm. 'Where's Constantine? What did you do to her?'

'She's home. Where she belongs.' I pull up a chair and sit down, getting comfortable. 'We need to have a conversation, Matthew. About boundaries.'

'You shot me,' he says, his voice shaking with anger and fear. 'You fucking shot me—'

'I had you shot,' I correct. 'There's a difference. If I'd pulled the trigger myself, you'd be dead.' I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. 'But I'm a reasonable man. So I'm giving you a warning instead of a funeral.'

'A warning?' He laughs bitterly. 'You're insane.'

'She's mine, and I'm possessive,' I say calmly. 'And possessive men don't share. So here's what's going to happen, Matthew. You're going to leave this city. You're going to move somewhere far away. And you're never going to contact Constantine again. Not a call. Not a text. Not a fucking letter. Nothing.'

'And if I don't?'

I smile. 
'Then I'll come back. And next time, it won't be your arm.' I stand up, adjusting my jacket. 'It'll be your throat. And I'll make sure Constantine watches while you bleed out. Do we understand each other?'

He stares at me with pure hatred in his eyes. But I also see fear.

'Excellent.' I turn toward the door. 'Oh, and Matthew? If you report this conversation to anyone, the police, a lawyer, anyone, I'll know. And I'll make sure your entire family pays the price. Your mother in Florida. Your sister in Boston. Everyone you care about. Are we clear?'

He doesn't answer, but the look on his face tells me everything I need to know. I leave the hospital and get back in my car. The driver knows better than to ask questions. As we drive back to the penthouse, I pull out my phone and check the app connected to the vibrator. It's still inactive, which means Constantine hasn't tried to leave the bedroom.

Satsifaction blooms in my chest. She's learning. By the time I get home, it's nearly 3 AM. I walk quietly into the bedroom. Constantine is still asleep, curled under the blankets, her red hair spread across my pillow.
I undress and slide into bed beside her. She stirs slightly but doesn't wake.

I lie there in the darkness, listening to her breathe, feeling the warmth of her body next to mine. She's mine now. Completely and irrevocably.
And anyone who tries to take her from me will learn exactly what happens when you touch what belongs to Wyatt Gorshkovsky.

They'll learn it's the last mistake they ever make.