Page 56 of Servitude to Serpents

The moment Stuart informs us Andres and his wife had entered the town car that brings all guests to the central estate, Pup was practically vibrating with excitement to see the other woman, and fucking hell, I’ve already got a headache. Despite my displeasure, she stayed up well into the night to practice on the piano, stopping every so often to have a complete breakdown. Every time I urged her away, she’d dig her heels in, stating that this deal was important to me, so she wanted to make me proud, as if she hadn’t yet somehow, as if her impressing the couple would somehow make things go smoothly. I didn’t bother explaining to her that the moment it stopped going smoothly, I’d put a bullet in them both; it was…nice seeing her so excited about something that obviously caused her so much distress. She plays fucking beautifully; even out of practice, the philharmonic would be desperate to obtain her. I couldn’t give a single fuckabout the piano. I finally carried her from the room when I watched her begin to pick and prod at the wounds on her palms. Whatever was done to her before she was taken was…beyond damaging.

My teeth clack together so loudly, it gets her attention, and her wide doe eyes fill with excitement. Even trying to tamper down on it for my benefit, my little pet has no poker face. They really couldn’t have picked a better target that night. November 17th. Her birthday. Another one had passed in my care without notice, and I’m determined to ignore how much that bothers me. I’ve spent countless hours scouring the internet for every piece of information on her I could find, most of it coming from the socials of others, times she was tagged in other posts, featured fleetingly in the background of a selfie. Her own profile captured the most random things—a flower, a box of dream-sickles, an inchworm on her wrist, books, reality tv musings. She was like me, a bit of a shut-in butnormal.

I can find no connection between that woman and the one kneeling at my feet now, desperate for praise, for acceptance from the man who had a part in stripping her of everything she once was. Her wide eyes shine with an innate honesty. It's fucking beautiful, the way she has…reverted, given in to all the things she wanted,neededin the dark. To be cared for, doted on, praised, punished. To be owned.

Pup was perfect for me; she would’ve been mine regardless of how we met.

For that, I almost feel bad.

Her blonde hair is silky underneath my palm as I pet her, letting her lean against me where I would’ve scolded others.

“I love you.”

Stupid fucking dog.

I tug her tighter against my leg as we wait in the foyer, whatever uncomfortable feeling that stirs in me making me both want to shoot everyone here and vomit.

She’s no different.

Not at all.

Andyou, Warrick, need to get your shit together. Finally, after years, you’re in the perfect spot to do what you set out to do, the reason you took your role as head and shoved, pushed, tormented, and committed acts of fucking terror.All for this. To topple a pillar.

Tyet.

Nothing will impede that.

Not you.

Not any wom—dog.

Sex slave.

“Sir?”

“Yes?” I breathe out, my hand never pausing its adoration of her despite everything in me willing it to.

“I only love you, so you don’t need to worry about me wanting anyone else. I guess, unless you ordered me to, then I’d have no choice.”

My brows knit together, my head slamming down toward her like she just told me a fucking riddle. Her pretty curves are hugged in a tight-fitting royal blue dress, her collar a dark leather, engraved with my crest.

“Oh, Christ,” Stuart mutters from behind us on the staircase.

“I didn’t want you to be jealous when I pay attention to Mahari,” she offers, making Stuart snicker behind us. God help me, I should jerk her over my knee. She gives a little smile, her cheeks flushed as she fidgets with the hem of her dress.

I laugh. It’s a fake one, forced out around the sudden heat creeping up my neck. “You still haven’t learned, have you?” My hand leaves her head, following the alluring path of her jawline until I reach the underside of her chin, tilting her head up fully. “You’re here toserve. Your worth begins and ends with how well you manage that. I couldn't care less for your adoration.”

She just beams up at me, frustrating, infallible woman. “Of course, Sir. Just wanted you to know.”

Stuart stalks past us, his ever-sour mood darkening further as he opens up the wide front doors. The early evening light makes the stained glass illuminate in an almost supernatural way. I designed it to do as much. Each window, floorboard, and road here was made to sink into the area, to blend with it seamlessly, as if it was always intended to be right here, in this field.

Andres loudly boasts something about the home while helping his wife fromthe car. My knuckles pop as I fist my hand, resisting the urge to cage Pup against my side. I give her a command to stand instead, nodding to her to act freely, even though it’s the last thing I want.

Iwanther bound and gagged in my office, hidden away from them. Away from everyone. That thought compounds immediately. Mahari doesn’t give Pup a minute to remember her rules, to keep a respectful distance. The woman yells with excitement that matches Pups as she crushes my pet into her chest.

“Basilisk, sorry for the at-home visit. You know how women can be.” Andres laughs, shaking my hand.

No, I don’t know how women can be, seeing as I never bothered with them unless they were bought for me, but it seems I’m learning quickly. Already, she’s forgetting herself, beaming up at the woman with eyes that belong to me.Admirationthat belongs to me.

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