Page 95 of Papers Don't Lie

He hasn’t tried anything with me—not even talking—so I spend most of my nights on the couch. I sleep three hours a night, and the rest of the day I bury myself in work. It helps with the overthinking.

I take a step back, glancing all over the finished suit. It’s the darkest shade of purple, which you can mistake as black if the light isn’t reflecting on it, with light purple buttons and a kerchief.

Kai would look so great in this…

No, don’t go there. It’s over.

Carter already contacted my family, and I’m sure he offered a much better contract than Kai did when he made the craziest choice—marrying me. They know my location and that I’m doing okay, but Carter made sure they understand no one can know where I am, or they’ll pay. Money quickly shut my parents’ mouths.

Soon after I sent Kai that last message, Carter smashed my phone with his foot and gave me another one that is restricted to calls only from my family and to them.

At that moment, I wanted to strangle him to death. I came back to my senses compared to the destroyed version of me in the plane, and it wasn’t because of the phone. But because of the memories in it, proof that what I lived was real. Photos with Kai sleeping, with Purple snuggling at my feet, or with Lacey.

Lacey.

When I demanded proof that she and Cielle were fine, Carter said I was not the one to demand. Then the next day, he threw an envelope with two photos of them in it and let me know I have two weeks to get adjusted until I have to move to his house.

Truth is, I haven’t tried to adjust at all. I can never imagine doing that when I don’t belong next to him, no matter how nice he’s playing for now. Because I know all of that will end soon.

“It’s too small,” a voice murmurs behind me.

My shoulders rise as I take a deep breath, turning away from the mannequin only to face the monster. Honestly, I prefer the mannequin a hundred times over Carter. He’s dressed in black pants and a white T-shirt, a pair of expensive glasses sitting on his nose as his palms rest in his pockets. Carter gives me a once-over, and satisfaction curls in me at the reminder of what I wear.

The largest sweatpants swallow my legs, a shirt of almost the same size hanging on my body with parts of the materials and tracks of the highlighter I used, plus the bun on top of my head that definitely looks outrageous.

“That won’t fit me." He makes himself clear, pointing at the suit behind me.

“It’s because I’m still learning. It’s easier to work with smaller portions," I lie, not wanting him to know that every suit I've made until now is perfectly tailored to Kai’s size.

He hums, walking inside my studio like he owns it. Well, he technically does, but I live here, and this is where I work every single day until I’m finally exhausted and don’t have to worry about having a hard time falling asleep.

“I hear you want your walls repainted. Again," he announces, stepping in front of me.

I put on a smile, intentionally showing how fake and forced it is. “Yes.” I hug my shoulders, looking around. “This beige makes me feel like I’m living in a hospital."

He nods. “I see what you mean,” Carter says before turning away towards the door. He stops inches away from it. “Enjoy your day here. Your little protest ends now.”

My stomach drops at his words, and I call after him when his hand touches the doorknob. “Okay, no more wall painting. Got it. But please don’t take me away.”

Carter whirls on his feet to face me again, a disgusting smirk on his lips. “You’ll have a studio at home, don’t worry. And don’t provoke me, or you won’t get it. I gave you enough time to adjust. Now you have to come where you belong." He takes his glasses off, looking me directly in the eye. “Home.”

I gulp, feeling the blood rushing to my head.

Calm down, Esmeray. You’ll lock yourself in there, and it’ll be the same as it is here. You won’t see anyone; you’ll be alone. Just take a deep breath and count to ten. It’s fine.

One… two… three… four.

“I have five more days.” I try to fight him.

“You have as many as I say, and I say your time here endsnow." He stresses the last word, his tongue clicking on his teeth. Carter steps closer to me, his finger sneaking under my chin in a disgusting way. “You’ll stop dressing like a homeless person and smelling like one." He sniffs, his lips curling. “And if I tell you to do something, you’ll do it."

“Not without a fight," I tell him, gritting through my teeth as my chest falls and rises with rapid breaths.

He laughs, throwing his head back, and when his face comes back into view, the smile has disappeared, completely replaced by a sick expression. His eyes darken on me, and in a second, his fingers curl tightly around my hand, dragging me closer to him.

“Your fight means shit, my precious," he murmurs, caressing my hair. I twist in disgust, but he doesn’t flinch. “Je gagne toujours.”

I always win.

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