Page 56 of Deadly Rival

She turns to me, and the deep sorrow etched into her face can't be real. Can it? It has to be an act. A way to win me over.

“I hated myself for years. My dad told me I needed to get over it, but how was I supposed to? I was jealous of Maggie. She got to do so much that I wanted to but wasn't allowed. It was that fucking stupid. I lashed out at her from spite, and she…”

Tears fill her eyes, and she turns away. “I know you won't believe me, but I'd give anything to change it. I'm sorry.”

My body short circuits, pulled in two directions at once. The part I've lived with since I was sixteen, the grief that never really lessens, wants to shove Ophelia away. But her eyes are stormy pools, and I'm sucked into them. My arm is still locked around her waist, and I don't know if I'm holding her captive or giving her comfort.

Comfort. What the fuck am I doing? I let her go, step back, and take a second—just a second—to get myself together.

Then I force a cold smile to touch my lips. “You’re in luck, then. Because you get to spend the rest of your life on your knees, making it up to me.”

I turn away before the flash of pain across her beautiful face can weaken me any more than I already am. “Get showered. We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Twenty-Three

Ophelia

There was a momenthe almost saw me as human. I caught it, right before his cold mask slammed back into place. I can’t blame him for dismissing my apology. I would too, if I were him. It’s too little, too late, and I’ll never forgive myself for hurting Maggie. Why the hell should he forgive me, after what he lost?

My throat still hurts from how he used me, and every time I swallow, it takes me back there, on my knees, as he fucked my throat.

Part of me is horrified at the memory, revolted that he took what he wanted from me in such a brutal way. But he hypnotized me with his gentle touches and his damn praise until even his savagery felt like affection. No one would judge me for not fighting—he has all the power—but I’m judging myself because, in the moment, I didn’t want to.

I wanted him to touch me.

Ever since, I’ve been floating in a strange, distant headspace. I need to snap the hell out of it and focus on what matters. I’m leaving the apartment. I’m seeing more of the Compound. And, most importantly, I might get an opportunity to see the insideof Medical for myself. If my family has a spy here, I need to make contact.

The more time passes, the less it feels like I’m getting out of here any time soon.

I shower just as Sebastian ordered. Following his instructions comes easier and easier with each passing hour.

I exit the shower to find Sebastian immaculately dressed as ever in a pale gray suit complete with a blue shirt that matches his eyes. And my hair, of course. My stomach flips. The more time I spend with him, the more fascinating the perfect angles of his face become. I’m starting to recognize that when his eyes darken, it’s with desire.

They’re dark now, and my nerves spark like crazy as he smiles. “There you are. Drop the towel, lie on the bed, and spread your legs.”

I clutch the towel reflexively. The blunt words don’t sound right, not when he’s a poster boy for elegant perfection. I know he’ll fuck me for the first time soon, but I didn’t think it’d be yet. He seemed excited about whatever he’s planned for dinner. And why did he bother getting all dressed up?

“Relax, pet. Your virtue is safe for now. But do as you’re told like a good girl, or I might change my mind about your dinner outfit.”

He inclines his head toward the bed, and for the first time, I notice a dress. My breath catches, and I reach out to feel the silky fabric. It’s stunning, the slippery blue silk gliding through my fingers like water.

Tiny blue jewels cover the neckline, which plunges in a deep V almost to the waist. My breasts will be covered by a thin strip of fabric and prayers to the fashion gods, and the sides are slit to the hip, but the effect is sultry and daring rather than trashy. It’s something an actress might wear to the Oscars if she wanted herphoto front and center on everyone’s newsfeed the next day, the sort of outfit I always imagined myself in but would never in a million years have been allowed to wear.

“Like it?” Sebastian’s voice has lost the mocking edge. He sounds genuinely curious, and a small, stupid part of me is touched.

My voice croaks as I answer, “Actually, yes.”

“Then do as you’re told like a good little pet.”

Oh. Of course. The dress distracted me from his instruction, but now the humiliating reality is back in full force. It’s not like he hasn’t already seen me, every part of me, in great detail. At this point, I honestly don’t think I care about him seeing me naked anymore. But what he’s asking is just…demeaning.

“Why?”

I don’t drop the towel, and he leans toward me. His voice drops. “Do it in the next five seconds, or you’re coming to dinner in just your collar and leash. And be polite about it.”

Shit. He means it. I drop the towel and scramble for the bed. Better to be embarrassed here in private than in front of God only knows how many people. “Yes, sir.”

I stare at the ceiling as I lie on my back, legs bent, knees and ankles pressed together. I stretch my fingers out and find the silky dress, gathering it in my fingers. It’s a distraction, something to focus on, and it lets me slide my legs apart.

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