Page 25 of Captured By Fate

“You’ll have to do better than that.” She resorts. Her gaze is pure ice, but I can hear the falter in her voice, the thaw is imminent.

With a huff, Kelley spins on her heel and storms away, leaving me to rub my shin. The pain is a dull throb compared to the thrill of our clash. The growing heat between us is something I will savor.

I watch her retreating form, adrenaline still humming through my veins. She is a whirlwind - unpredictable, fierce, and utterly mesmerizing. With her, everything is a battle, a dance along the knife's edge of control.

And I cannot get enough. I crave these clashes, the fire in her eyes, the fury in her spirit. She is a worthy opponent, a captivating challenge.

My grin spreads slowly as a plan forms in my mind. I've neglected Kelley as of late, consumed by business, but I crave her submission, that fire within her I'm determined to tame.

I will devote more time to her. Fan the flames higher until she finally relinquishes control. Make her long for my touch, torment her with pleasure until she begs for release.

I lick my lips at the delicious thought. She believes she's won these little battles, but the war is just beginning. And I fully intend to have the ultimate victory. Her body and her indomitable will - I will conquer them both.

15

KELLEY

What was I thinking, rushing out of there so soon? I had questions, and I wanted answers, answers I wouldn’t get. Not now.

When I close the door to my room, it feels sanctuary-like for the first time since Jackson hauled me here. I’ve grown used to the sprawling windows overlooking Jackson’s elegant courtyard. It’s a harsh reality, and every day it digs a little deeper under my skin, but I'm beginning to like it here.

It has to stop.

I have a life, and I need to get back to it, no matter what, which is why I’m kicking myself. As I pace the room, shuddering in the evening light, I realize my mistake. I should’ve stayed and made him answer me.

I should have stood firm, stared him down, and demanded the truth. When will he let me go? Does he even intend to? I can't allow myself to get comfortable here, no matter how alluring it sometimes feels to simply give in to him.

Frustrated, I fall back onto the plush bed. This isn't home. I don't belong here, captive in this lush prison.

But even as determination wells up inside me anew, I feel the lingering ghosts of Jackson's touch, the addictive thrill of our volatile chemistry. Somehow when I'm with him, the lines blur between right and wrong, control and submission.

I need to escape tonight before I lose myself completely. Before his world starts to feel like my own. But knowing what’s out there, and how helpless I would be even if I could leave, I know it’s futile.

But if I can’t escape without, maybe I can escape within. After all, Jackson has a massive library. I wonder if the books there have even been touched. And since I never see him anymore, and the time here slips away so easily, I guess I can consider myself as much a guest as a prisoner. And a guest gets library access, so says me.

As I creep out the door and sneak around the corner, my breath nearly collapses in my lungs when I rush into a maid, seemingly from nowhere,

“Excuse me,” she says, without looking directly at me. They never do.

It's further proof that I’m truly here at Jackson’s mercy, but it won’t stop me from going further. If I’m to be here long term, I’d better have something good to read.

I slide along the wall, wary of any sounds in the cavernous mansion. My steps are feather-light, breaths shallow.

The opulent corridors seem deserted, but I don't trust the illusion. Jackson has eyes everywhere. I ease open a heavy wooden door, cringing at each creak. The musty scent of ancient pages reaches me - the library. Sanctuary, and perhaps the key to my freedom. I slip inside and carefully push the door closed. Now to find what I need without arousing suspicion.

As I slip into the dimly lit library, I’m comforted by the familiar smell of leather and old pages. Running my fingers along the ornate wooden shelves, I pause to glance at some of the titles - classic works of literature side-by-side with rare antique books. Despite the circumstances, I can’t help admiring Jackson’s impressive collection.

My eyes land on the balcony overlooking the library, transporting me back to the charged encounter I shared with Jackson there. I can almost feel the ghost of his fingers digging into my hips, his breath hot on my neck...

My face heats up and I shake my head, banishing the vivid memories. I came here on a mission, not to daydream about him again.

Moving deeper among the shelves, I trail my hand along the rows of spines, looking for anything that might help distract me.

Standing on my tiptoes atop the library ladder, I reach for a large leather-bound book on the top shelf. It looks promising - maybe an atlas or a collection of maps. Unaware of Jackson's presence, my hand wavers, and I lose my balance.

I topple backward off the ladder, a gasp escaping my lips. Books and papers cascade around me as I brace for impact with the unforgiving floor.

Instead, I fall into Jackson's waiting arms. He must have come upon me silently and positioned himself behind the ladder. My body crashes against his in an unexpected embrace.

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