Page 79 of Psyop Kings

“Problem solved, huh?”

“The problems would exponentially multiply,” he reveals, baring his gleaming white teeth at me. “I said I like a challenge, not total annihilation of my life.”

At least I know he still needs me to stay alive. Being the youngest daughter of one of the wealthiest, most well-known families on the East Coast has its perks.

“Don’t worry,” I mutter, hugging the puzzle box to my chest. “As long as you keep Gareth away from me, we’re good.”

He tenses slightly, but I pick up on it. So Garethisthe one he thought might be the reason for my demise. And why does he even care? Rather than divulging anything else to me, he barks out an order in his usual dismissive tone.

“Get packed up, little girl. We have a big travel day ahead of us in the morning.”

Right. A trip on Solomon’s yacht. Lake Erie, here we come.

Romy

My head throbs when I open my eyes, the light making it hurt worse. All my muscles in my body ache and I wonder if my hike through the snow has anything to do with hit.

Or…

It reminds me of the day after the first time I was drugged.

Sure enough, I can feel a bruising pain on the outside of my arm. Injection site. This hangover-type feeling is the aftereffect of being drugged.

Overwhelming anger at my situation has tears burning my eyes. Rather than forcing my eyes open to take in my surroundings, knowing it’ll make my head pound worse, I attempt to remember last night.

I came back to Caius being a prick. Then I packed like he demanded. After that, when unable to focus on my new puzzle, I’d crawled into bed and fallen asleep early. Vaguely, I remember Caius joining me in bed, his body coming close to mine. I’d pretended to still be asleep, curious to see what he’d do. Instead of his hand caressing me, I felt a pinch on my arm. And then…nothing. Until now.

Fury chases away my helplessness and I force my eyes open. Warm yellow light makes me cringe. I shade my eyes with my hand. In front of me, Gareth watches with a crooked smile. Sadistic asshole.

I sit up in my seat—yes, a leather chair—and take note of the tubular room. Not a room. Airplane. Whipping my head to the left and immediately regretting it when the throbbingintensifies, I see Caius deep in concentration as he types on a laptop. His dark hair is perfectly styled, not a hair out of place, and he’s dressed impeccably in a well-fitted navy suit.

I want to strangle him with his baby blue tie.

“You…” I croak out. “You…drugged…me.”

Caius’s typing halts and he cuts his eyes my way. Then he lifts his hand. A woman in a crisp uniform hurries over to us. “A water for my love.”

Gareth stifles a laugh. I want to also choke him with Caius’s tie once I’m done with his brother.

“I’m…not…” I give up the argument. Until I have some water on my parched throat, I’ll struggle to speak.

The stewardess hands me a bottle of water, wearing a polite smile. Then she disappears to wherever Caius summoned her from. I unscrew the lid and guzzle the whole bottle without stopping once. An unladylike burp follows after, and I’m satisfied when Caius’s lip curls up slightly.

Good.

I’m not the only one feeling displeasure in this moment.

“Why?” I demand, voice not as raspy.

“It’s called efficiency,” Caius says absently, attention back on his laptop. “We didn’t have time for stalling. There was a brief reprieve from the storm, and if we didn’t leave when we did, we would have missed the yacht’s departure.”

Rather than dignifying him with a response, I unbuckle and rise from my seat. The plane vibrates as it cruises along. I see a sign for the bathroom and make my way over to it. We’re the only three people here aside from the flight attendant and the pilots. The isolation continues. Once I’ve safely locked myself in the bathroom, I stare at my reflection. My hair is down and messy. I’m unnerved to discover I’m in completely different clothes than I wore yesterday.

He changed my clothes.

It should feel like a violation, but we’ve already bumped uglies, or at least rubbed them together, so it’s certainly not anything he hasn’t seen ortouchedbefore. Heat floods south and I growl in frustration. I hate Caius Crowne. Deeply.

After relieving myself and discovering I’m wearing new, silky black panties that he no doubt put on me, I wash up and then splash cold water on my face to cool off the shame or desire or anger. I’m still unsure which one is winning the inner battle.

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