Page 21 of Captured By Fate

“I’ve got to check on things at the racetrack for a few hours,” I say, swiping a swig of orange juice and looking over the horizon. Kelley sits there watching me, her lips slightly parted as she waits for my next order.

“Marta?” I ask my attendant's attention, but my eyes are glued on Kelley.

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure our guest has nothing to eat.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait? What?” Kelley asks, her eyes growing confused as she stares.

I look down at her with a screwed-up expression.

“You’re on hunger strike, remember?” I say, turning on my heel.

I hear the rushed clanking of plates as Marta dutifully clears away all traces of the morning meal.

As I exit the mansion, Kelley's outraged screams fill the space I leave behind a wild symphony accompanying my departure. Her fiery anger is music to my ears.

I let out a low, satisfied chuckle, already anticipating the delicious challenge of bending her stubborn will to mine. Taming this one will be my greatest pleasure yet. I lick my lips at the thought. Soon, her screams will become moans of surrender.

After a long day at work, I return home curious as to what mischief my little hellcat Kelley has been up to in my absence. The servants inform me she's kept to her room all day, refusing interactions with anyone.

“Has she requested food?” I ask.

“Not a bite, sir. She seems quite determined.”

I grab my chin, thinking her defiance over before ordering my dinner outside, right under her window.

Not a bite, huh?

I'm hardly surprised. No doubt she's sulking over our disagreement this morning, too prideful to emerge. I chuckle to myself as I sit down to a late solo dinner on the patio. Her childish stubbornness is almost endearing.

Part of me hopes she'll relent and join me for the meal. But the patio remains empty as the sun sinks below the horizon, the seat across from me glaringly vacant. I savor a glass of wine slowly, pondering what approach to take next with my defiant captive.

Her little hunger strike changes nothing. I am a patient man, and her willpower is no match for mine. She will learn her place here soon enough.

As irritating as her continued rebellion is, I can't deny it adds an intriguing challenge to our game. Taming her fiery spirit will make her surrender all the sweeter.

Let her hide tonight if she wishes. Come morning light, I will simply start again on bending her to my will. And I will relish every moment of finally conquering her stubborn pride.

When night comes, and still not a peep is heard from her door, I start to wonder how long she’ll hold out. On a hunch, I take my evening whiskey in a dark nook of the kitchen. Sure enough, I’m roused from my thoughts with the creaking of cabinets, and a tiny mouse in search of food.

“Didn’t even last a day.”

Kelley shrieks, staring at me wild-eyed, her hands clutching a jar of chocolate hazelnut spread and crackers.

I can't help but chuckle at the sight of her - disheveled hair, oversized t-shirt, cheeks stuffed with pilfered food like a greedy child. So much for her stubborn hunger strike. Predictably, her appetite has won out over her pride.

"I...I was hungry," she mumbles lamely, unable to meet my gaze. The defiance has left those dark eyes, replaced by unease and hints of shame at being caught.

I step closer, watching her press back against the marble counter. Gently I tip her chin up to meet my eyes.

“Then let me feed you,” I say, forcing the jar from her hands.

I step forward, pushing two fingers into the jar and then parting the bottom of her mouth to receive it.

“Open,” I tell her and she complies.

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