the speaker connected to the earpiece Sid was

wearing.

“How do you think your father would feel about that?”

My heart was pounding out of my chest as I watched Jaden’s eyes lift to harden

slightly, but before I could even focus fully on it, it was gone. Her face back to being

passive.

“My father is dead, Sid. He doesn’t feel anything.”

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath. I was sure that was going to get a rise out

of her, but all I got was a small hint of emotion. And it didn’t last longer than even

a second. Even Sid looked surprised by her remark.

And that was all I needed to know. I had finally won, and now, it was time to

mold the marble in my image. My future wife and mother of my children would not

be a goddamn mouse like Katherine. The only thing I wanted Jaden to understand

was that she was never getting away from me and to learn to be happy with her life.

She appeared to have accepted everything, and that was what was depressing to

her.

I had to slowly introduce her back into the world she would eventually rule with

me—the world that didn’t allow the survival of mice. I would start with her

training. She thought fighting was pointless? Fighting me was pointless, but her

skillset was too valuable to permit it to fade. Knowing what she was capable of, how

well she could fight? It turned me on. It also gave me a sense of security to know

she wouldn’t be completely helpless when surrounded by a threat. Eventually, the

threats would come, and I wanted her prepared.

Time to get the ball rolling.

53

GONE

A ll I ever tasted anymore was blood. The metallic taste coated my mouth like a

stain I couldn’t remove no matter how many times I tried to clean it. But the

taste was my reminder. It kept me grounded, cautious, and afraid. I had to stay

afraid. It kept me in line, showed me the boundaries that I never wanted to test.

And it kept Darren happy—the only thing that mattered anymore.

The things Darren did to me, the words he made me say, the pain he caused, the

psychological torture—I’d never snapped in half so hard in my life. I could feel my

mind being warped each day, twisted and pulled in so many painful directions that I

didn’t think it would ever end. For weeks, he made me suffer relentlessly and

severely. The smallest transgression was like ringing Hell’s doorbell and asking for

an invitation for another dose of pain. Nothing could have prepared me for what I

went through or how broken I’d become. I was nothing. Less than nothing. I was

just his now.

And I thought of nothing else.

But when I found myself drowning in the misery of my despair, the

hopelessness of my life, Darren had reached down and dragged me out, breathing a

different life back into me. When I was good, when I made him happy, my reward

was more than I could have ever expected. He was kind then—gentle, warm, and

comforting. Everything I needed him to be.

He chased away the cold with his body, drove back my nightmares with his

touch, and dried my tears with his lips. I was consumed with the need to be

comforted, cared for … cherished. And when I was good, when I made him happy, I

felt safe. And all I ever wanted after all the pain and anguish I had suffered was to

feel safe.

Darren had been my tormentor and my savior. And I had to do everything I could

to keep the tormentor at bay and stay with my savior. The one who cherished me as

if I was the most precious treasure in the world. That was the key to my survival.

When I was finally released from that room, waking up unrestricted and warm,

I’d broken down right in front of him, expressing my full gratitude and relief to be

trusted. But what was worse was the realization that I was finally and officially

broken; otherwise, Darren wouldn’t have released me. He was confident in his

conditioning that I was as twisted as he wanted me to be, and my heart broke in two

knowing it was true. I was so fucking dependent on him to love me and cherish me

that it terrified me. Because he couldn’t hurt me if he was loving me. I was safe that

way. I could survive that way.

But it was so fucking hard to live that way.

I was so goddamn paranoid that the smallest thing would land me back in that

basement, and then I would never be able to leave. I’d die in there if I went back, so

I did everything possible to stay out of trouble. I avoided temptation like the

plague. I didn’t train. I didn’t speak unless spoken to. I kept my head down and

avoided eye contact

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