Page 14 of Colton
Does Colton know? Was it a threat? A warning? Or is he playing a deeper game?
In this house, I can’t afford to trust anyone—especially not him.
I take a shaky breath and try to gather myself, but I’m distracted by the sound of shuffling right outside my door.
I stiffen, every muscle in my body coiled tight like a spring. My ears strain to catch any sound, any hint of who might be approaching. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, as I hold my breath. I wonder if Xavier or Colton have come to destroy me.My eyes dart frantically while my fingers twitch, ready to reach for my concealed weapon at a moment’s notice.
They can try.
Chapter 7
Colton
Islip into the hidden surveillance room, my eyes immediately drawn to the wall of screens flickering with live feeds from around the mansion. There she is; Mary. My breath catches as I watch her move through the hallways, her face a mask of determination. I know I’m stalking her, watching her without her knowledge, let alone her consent, and maybe that makes me more like my twisted father than I’d like.
Yes, I want to control her. But I’m protecting her from him. That makes it different.
Does it?I grit my teeth and shove the thought aside.Of course, I’m different from him. I’m protecting her.
Anyway, she’s different from the others. Stronger. More defiant. I’ve been watching her since she arrived, fascinated by the way she carries herself, the fire in her eyes that refuses to be extinguished. My obsession has only grown with each passing day, and I’m nothing but its victim.
I lean closer to the screen, drinking in every detail of her movements. The way she glances over her shoulder, always alert. There is a slight tremor in her hands as she clutches something to her chest—it’s the folder from earlier.
Interesting.
I watch the way her chest heaves with every frightened breath, my dick hardening at the thought of her trembling with fear like that about me.
Nausea rolls in my throat at the similarities between that desire and my father’s.Fucking hell, will I ever escape him?
A flicker of movement on another screen catches my attention. My father, Xavier, prowling the halls like the predator he is. My jaw clenches as I watch him, disgust and hatred bubbling up inside me. I know what he’s after.Whohe’s after.
“Not this time,” I mutter, my fingers curling into fists. “She’s not for you.”
Memories of past encounters with my father flood my mind. His cruel tests, his manipulation, the way he’d push me to my limits just to see how far I’d bend before breaking. Each recollection fuels the fire of my hatred, reminding me how much I despise this man.
I watch as Mary encounters my father in the hallway. Even through the grainy footage, I can see the fear in her eyes and the way she shrinks back from him. My blood boils as I witness their interaction, his thinly veiled threats and propositions making me want to reach through the screen and throttle him.
But then I appear on the scene, and I watch myself intervene. The memory floods my senses—the acrid taste of adrenaline in my mouth, the tightness in my chest as I approached. I can almost feel the tension radiating from my past self, muscles coiled and ready to spring. The air had felt thick, charged even. I hadn’t realized how close I’d come to losing control; my jaw clenched so tight I still felt the ache. Even now, recalling the scene, my hands instinctively curl into fists, nails biting into my palms.
After Xavier leaves, I see myself warning Mary. On the screen, her face pales, and I can almost feel the rapid beatingof her heart. Good. She should be wary. She should know the danger she’s in, not just from my father but also from me.
Because I want her.God, how I want her.
But not in the wayhedoes; I don’t want to use her up and throw her away. I want to possess her, to keep her safe from my father’s clutches. To make her mine in every way possible. To break her.
Maryisdifferent from the others. She has a fire in her eyes, a defiance that both intrigues and infuriates me. I’ve watched countless women come through these halls, all of them eventually broken by my father’s cruelty. But not her. She stands tall, her spirit unbroken despite everything.
I want to be the one to tame that wildness, to see the moment when her walls finally crumble. Not out of cruelty like my father, but because I need to know that she’s mine completely. My obsession grows with every glimpse of her strength, every flash of that hidden vulnerability she tries so hard to conceal.
Breaking her would prove I’m different from my father and can have power. And yet, a part of me fears that in trying to save her from my father, I might become just like him. But I can’t stop. The need to possess Mary, to protect her and control her, consumes me entirely.
I switch to the feed from her room, watching as she examines the contents of the folder she took. My curiosity piques. What has she discovered? What game is she playing?
As she hides the folder in a clever little compartment, I can’t help but admire her ingenuity. She’s smart.
I lean back in my chair, mind racing with possibilities. I need to confront her soon to make her understand that she belongs to me now. But I have to be careful. One wrong move, and she’ll slip through my fingers.
A movement on another screen catches my eye. My father, lurking outside Mary’s door. He leans in close like he can tasteher fear through the wood. I tense, ready to spring into action if necessary. But he doesn’t enter. Instead, he stands there, his intentions clear with how he touches himself and the sick grin on his face.
