Page 6 of Wanted
Strong arms picked me up, carrying me to the bathroom. He wasn’t helping me, no. He did this as a chore. His nonchalant attitude revealed how much I bored him with my silly needs. It wasn’t my fault. He had me handcuffed…
“Can you undo these?” I gestured at my wrists. The surfaces were shiny and most decadent. I hadn’t expected this sleek look. Fylox was either rich or fucking with me. “Close the door behind you after you’re done.”
My savior, or captor, stepped back from my trembling body. With one deep breath, he flared his nostrils. With open palms flat on the marble sink behind him, he stared me down.
“Excuse me?” I lifted my cuffed wrists.
“I can lock you up in here if you like. Then you can go to the bathroom all day long. Is that what you want?” he comments, tilting his head to the side. His cognac eyes spit fire at me, antagonizing me for the sake of it.
I sighed. I’d have to live like a Katantian girl from now on. I thought coming to America would result in… freedom? Instead, I lowered half of my hideous tracksuit, and I did what I had to do while he stood there, watching my every move with hatred burning bright in his eyes.
It was definitely hatred. Not even my dad messed with me while in bathrooms…
“I can’t reach the toilet paper without making a mess,” I informed him. There was none next to me. It was behind me, and under normal circumstances, I’d extend my long arms, thank my fucking genes for that, and I’d help myself. But cuffed hands were of no use.
Fylox didn’t flinch. He kept glaring at me like I’d grown devil horns.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?”
No response.
I rolled my eyes, and I spat, “Fuck you. Kick me out! I don’t need your help. I’m the Princess of Katantia. You will treat me with respect! Why are you keeping me here if you hate me so much?”
My question made zero sense. If he hated me, holding me hostage was perfect for him. My dripping pussy, a result of something other than sex, needing some light patting. What was so terribly wrong with that request? I didn’t ask for the world.
It was just toilet paper.
“You’re the princess of what?” he asked, unbothered by my outburst. It was sickening to be this upset while he stood there perfectly balanced and relaxed.
“Of Katantia! Get these fucking handcuffs off of me. Now.” I was shaking, and it was the result of my withdrawal. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t think clearly. The smallest thing agitated me, making me explode.
“You’re in no position to give me orders.” Fylox stepped forward, and his scent moved with him. He was hiding in plain sight. Underneath that pretty face, there was hurt and agony. His eyes whispered those small truths to me. “You’re in my space. Here, you are a princess of nothing. You don’t exist. You’re a nobody, and you will be treated as such.”
As tall as I was, I still had to cock my head to glare at him while he towered above me. His crotch sat right in front of my face, but he wasn’t hard. No. He wasn’t doing this because he received pleasure from degrading me over a piece of toilet paper.
There was something wrong with this man, fundamentally.
I’d dealt with those sorts of men all my life. They’d always been older than me, but age… It didn’t matter while my hands were bound, and he was able to do as he pleased with me.
My frustration was growing by the second. It annoyed me that all of this was orchestrated by the man who had murdered my mother. My conscience ate at me for allowing him to interfere with my life once again. I had left Katantia, but its influence could be felt all over. Instead, I sat here in a compromising position, being ridiculed.
Kamila was a lot of things. But she didn’t get played. No. Kamila was the one that played the game. Fuck him. Swallowing my pride, I lowered my voice. It always worked with Aram. Surely, being a pouty innocent girl would work for him, too. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to come off so cross. I don’t mean to sound so stuck-up. I grew up being the center of… Well, it doesn’t matter. I apologize, and I hope we didn’t get off on the wrong foot. I’m grateful to be here with you. I’m uncertain, but I’m grateful.”
There was a movement in his face, but it didn’t quite form into a smile. His eyes gleamed fury at me, and it didn’t matter what the rest of his body said. The cognac they served me was… Tempting. Infuriating but tempting as fuck. “Get up.”
Taken aback, I responded, “What?”
“Get. Up.”
Work. Work. Work. Wrap him around your little finger. Work. Work. Work.
I took a deep breath, and then I exhaled. Bile rose in my throat, but I shoved it away. We’d play along with this man. Now, we were almost eye to eye. I still had to raise my gaze to meet the ferocious look on his face. Without any further delays, he demanded, “Get in the shower.”
While the prospect of a shower pleased me, I was dirty as fuck, after all. I felt dumbfounded at how I was being treated. Aram was allowed to treat me like dirt. It was expected of him. But. Nobody. Else. Took. Such. Attitudes. With. ME. My heart pounded in wrath, but my face was loose, and my behavior gullible.
I nodded, and I tripped my way to the walk-in shower.
Just breathe, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.
