I tilted my head back and stared at him as he moved across the room, loosening the buttons on his white dress shirt and sliding it from those wide shoulders of his before setting it on top of the dresser directly across from the bed.
“Does anyone else know I’m here?” I asked.
Gaven paused, his head lifting as he met my gaze in the mirror that hung over the dresser. “Are you concerned that your clientele will be looking for you?”
I blinked. “You know what I do?”
I’d been cautious to keep my new business far from the Price Family and my sister’s knowledge. In fact, I’d avoided the North American criminal world for the majority of my five years in hiding and on the run. It’d only been in the last six months that I’d chanced the return. I’d naively considered that perhaps they were done looking for me. That they had given up. I should’ve known a man like Gaven Belmonte would never be done with me. He wasn't the type to give up on something he considered his property, and as his legal wife, that’s exactly what I am. His property.
In the reflection of the mirror, Gaven continued to watch me. Finally, after what felt like forever, he turned and leaned against the dresser. Though it was difficult, I forced my eyes to remain on his face and not drift down to the sharp cut of his chest. As angry as I was with him, as spiteful as I’d acted, my chest tightened at the sight. Masculine. Chiseled. Beautiful. But beneath all of it, there was also a monster. A devious, sinister monster intent on ripping me apart for the offense I'd dealt him.
"If you're asking if your family knows that I have you, then no." His words made my spine stiffen, but at the same time, relief filled me.
"That's not what I said," I replied.
One corner of his mouth curved upward. He flipped back around, and I watched his hands go to the belt at his waist. With precise movements, Gaven unbuckled the clasp and slipped the leather from the loops of his trousers, setting it on top of the dresser before he moved back to the button and zipper. Unable to stand it, I ripped my gaze away and stared down at my lap.
He was right to be angry at me, but I was serious when I said I'd sign divorce papers. The longer we remained in the same vicinity, the higher the chances she'd find me. Jackie. My sister. My blackmailer.
"Your whereabouts are on a need-to-know basis," he finally said. "Those that need to know do, and those that don't need to know, don't."
His words were frustratingly vague, but I sensed that any more pressure from me would only irritate him, so I let it go. I was well aware of how he looked at me, his eyes roaming, watching, seeking. I knew exactly what he was trying to do. Gaven was a good assassin, but he was far more adept at other things aside from pulling the trigger.
"Now," he stated, "for the rest of the rules."
"How long will I need to follow these rules?" I asked before he began again.
His face didn't change. "Until I determine you don't," he said. I resisted the urge to press my lips together or let any hint of my emotions show on my face. I was highly aware of my anger, but even more aware of the fact that anything I did now would only serve his purpose. He wanted information on what happened the night I ran away, and I wanted to keep it a secret. Forever, if at all possible.
"You know," I said, "this doesn't change things between us." I gesture down to my naked body. "It doesn't matter what you do to me—or what you force me to do for you—I'm not going back to being the Angel that you knew, the one that you picked out like a shirt from a catalog. I’m not the innocent little girl you knew anymore, Gaven.”
He hummed in the back of his throat. Gaven’s mouth curved upward at the edges as he tilted his head back. The underside of his jaw shadowed his throat, but his face and the smugness it presented were fully visible. “You were never truly innocent, Angel,” he replied. “You were just inexperienced. You flourish under my commands—you and I both know that. I don't need to force you to do anything, love.”
Despite my earlier resolve to keep my emotions in check, my body automatically tensed at those words. Other than scowling, though, I didn’t respond. He didn’t seem to be too offended either, because he easily continued. "But since we're on the subject, why don't you answer a little question for me." His gaze bored into me. "What happened that night, Angel?”
Gaven’s brows drew down, and the arrogance he usually held around him like a cloak receded the barest of bits. I couldn’t tell for sure, but his features seemed to soften somehow. His mouth wasn’t quite as tight and his jaw was not nearly as clenched as it had been. Perhaps it was my imagination, or maybe I wanted to believe that this man who claimed to still be my husband didn’t completely mistrust or hate me.
What happened that night?
So much,my mind supplied. The memories poured into me—flashing one after the other. The wedding. Gaven's arms around me. Then the darkened hallway as I slipped out—for what? I couldn't remember. A glass of water or the bathroom. I didn't know. All I knew was that it had been the worst mistake of my entire life to leave the safety of his arms.
My father’s body. His open, unseeing eyes—sometimes, I still saw his face in my nightmares. His and … Jackie’s. His true killer’s eyes—staring at me as she laughed.
To tell Gaven, though, would doom him. If he knew then Jackie would stop at nothing to get rid of him, and after seeing the way she’d killed our father and what she’d done to me … I knew she would. There was nothing soft in her, no loyalty save for what she gave herself. But Gaven wouldn’t go down without a fight either. The truth promised nothing but death and destruction. It would cause an all-out war, and though he was strong and powerful, even Gaven wouldn’t be able to avoid the outcome.
I shook my head. "It doesn't matter what happened in the past," I said instead. "What matters is that I don't want to be with you now, and with my father gone, I’m useless to your plans. There’s no point in keeping me, Gaven, you have to know that."
Gaven went silent for several long moments. Then he sighed. "I'd hoped you would've at least gotten rid of that lying habit of yours while you were away," he said.
"Lying?" I gaped at him. "I never—"
“Say those words,” he interrupted with a dark look, “and you will regret it, Angel.” All earlier softness vanished as if it had never been. “You’ve lied to me as well as yourself. You ran when I could have helped you. You lied when you signed the marriage contract, when you took my fucking ring and became mine. If you don't want to tell me the truth now, then I'll just have to ask again at a later time. For now, let's continue with your new life rules."
I scowled but couldn't respond. There was nothing more to say. Until I found an opening, I would have to listen to him. Just enough to get him to loosen the reins so that I could escape again. I’d done it twice and even if he kept catching me, I was obviously getting better. It’d taken him half a decade this past time. Next time, I’d make sure it’d be a lifetime. Even if it meant I had to run to the furthest reaches of the world, I would get away. I’d keep him—and myself—safe from my psychopath of a sister.
"I'll repeat what we've already gone over to ensure your understanding," Gaven stated as he launched into his new role as Dominant and Master. "You will not wear clothes in this bedroom or this apartment unless you are given permission. If given permission, you will wear only what you are provided with. Nothing more. Nothing less. You will not leave this bedroom unless you are given permission. You will not speak to anyone who comes in and out of this room or apartment. You will be provided with three meals a day. You will eat them. I won't have you harming yourself while you're in my custody."
"Oh, but the harm you do to me doesn't count?" The dryness in my tone was automatic.