Page 11 of Lost Petal

I loathe this realization.

But what I loathe even more is the cruel trick he played on me. Promising an honest answer to a single question and then leaving me with such a vague excuse of a response.

“You’re a monster,” I hiss, almost spitting in his handsome face.

A dark chuckle is all he gives me, shaking his head while his eyes remain locked on mine.

“Oh, Petal, you have no idea,” he says, as the smile on his face widens. If I didn’t know any better, I would call the expression on his face loving or caring, but those words don’t fit given the circumstances. Instead, another term comes to mind: condescending.

He doesn’t take me seriously. The smile on his face belittles me more than any gesture ever could. And I’m sure he knows that. It’s all he wants, to intimidate me, to scare me, to put me in a place I don’t want to be in.

“Why—”

“No.” He interrupts me right away, raising his voice for the first time. At least he’s not hushing me with his finger this time. “You’re done asking questions for now, Petal. It’s my turn to talk, and your turn to listen.”

“Bu—”

A croaky sound escapes my throat when he closes his hand around it with such sudden force that I don’t stand a chance to evade his grip. He squeezes, the tips of his large fingers almost meeting as he circles them around my small neck, while I choke under his violent touch. He keeps me in this painful standoff when he places his face right before mine, the tip of his nose touching the skin on my cheek while he snarls at me. “I’m not kidding, Petal. I’m dead serious. You shut the fuck up now or this will become very, very painful for you. I’m talking. You’re listening. I don’t want to hear another word from you until I allow you to speak. Is that clear?”

His grip on my throat loosens just enough to allow me to breathe. It has only been a few seconds, but his grasp was so strong that it leaves a lasting impression on my sensitive skin. The pressure is still palpable when he lets me gasp for air, calmly awaiting my response.

I nod in lieu of words, determined not to give him another reason to hurt me like this.

“Good girl.”

His praise comes as a surprise, but I refuse to believe in the sense of security he tries to convey by planting an unwanted kiss on my forehead before he gets up on his feet.

My eyes follow him, forcing me to tilt my head all the way back as our gazes remain glued to each other. I don’t like feeling this small in front of him and have to fight the urge to get up on my feet myself. Even without saying a word, he lets me know he wouldn’t appreciate that. It’s all in his eyes, in the way he looks at me, locking me down to the floor with his dark and ominous gaze.

“Here’s what’s going to happen from now on,” he begins, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest and jutting his chin forward. “You’re mine. That means you have no rights, no opinions, no decisions of your own. You do whatever I tell you to, and nothing else.”

I can’t suppress the crease between my eyebrows appearing as he lists his atrocious demands, but he lets it go without comment, even though he definitely notices.

“I want you on your knees just like this every time I enter the room,” he continues. “But with your eyes lowered down to your lap. You’re not allowed to look up at me until I tell you to; understood?”

I don’t respond. Instead, I bite my lower lip to stop myself from yelling at him, to stop myself from talking back to him the way I should. He has no right to talk to me this way, to declare me his possession just like that and to order me around like I’m some kind of animal.

But I’m scared of what he might do. I’m scared that he will hurt me again.

So, I nod. I don’t give him the satisfaction of saying yes out loud, but I still respond in the positive.

It’s not enough for him.

“Say it,” he insists. “That’s another rule, Petal. I want to hear you respond to me when I ask a question. I want you to say ‘Yes, master.’”

He must be insane if he thinks I’m going to do that. I frown at him, narrowing my eyes as I slowly shake my head no.

His face hardens, seemingly feeding off the tension that stretches between us. I try to brace myself for whatever may come next. Will he choke me again? Will he hit me? Will he pull me up by my hair and drag me around the room until I agree to respond in the way he wants me to?

Turns out it’s none of the above. Another warning is all I receive. For now.

“Answer me. Or you’ll regret it.”

The unyielding force in his voice makes me want to obey. The words echo through the room, deep and harrowing, causing my pulse to speed up with fright.

But still, I don’t speak.

I can’t.

“Petal.”

He takes a step forward, and I shiver with fear. “I’ll give you one more chance to speak. Now. Do you understand me?”

I press my lips together, effectively doing the exact opposite of what he’s asking of me.

And he’s not having it.

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