spinning around me come to a standstill. I tested his restraint on my wrists,
pushing up just a centimeter, but he would not give.
His nose traced up the side of my ear, slowly tickling me before he finally
drawled, “Tell me what I want to hear.”
I took in a sharp breath. “I belong to you.”
“Good girl,” he approved and pulled himself from me.
Fuck, that was a hell of a dinner.
25
TRUST
That night, I gave Darren back his watch, and he presented me with one of my
own. A white gold diamond encrusted Rolex to match my cuffs as if they were
part of a set. Half the size of Darren’s and much lighter, the face was Mother of
Pearl, and even the hands had diamonds on them. It was fucking gorgeous, but I’d
easily tarnish it within a week.
I was not allowed outside today, but if I could demonstrate my ability to tell time
and switch my “activities” every hour, then I’d be granted access to the woods
tomorrow, and Darren would accompany me this one time so he could determine if
he was comfortable with me being out there alone. I swear it was as if I was a fragile
child in his eyes. A helpless child who could shoot guns, ride superbikes at high
speeds, and beat the shit out of his guards. Yep, helpless child right here. I rolled
my eyes at the thought but didn’t argue with him. If it meant a moment away from
the chaos that was my life, then I would compromise.
It was beyond difficult and annoying trying to find something new to do every
hour. I ate, worked out, showered, and made myself look pretty, played pool, had
lunch, watched half a movie, read, painted (begrudgingly), and then went back to
my room to build myself a house of cards until dinner.
I was bored out of my fucking skull, yet at times, I just wanted to sit on my
chaise or balcony to simply watch the world go by. I had a feeling one of the reasons
Darren didn’t want me sitting around was so I wouldn’t be afforded the opportunity
to sulk and drift back into negative thinking. In a way, he was right, but I would be
plotting more than sulking.
Observation was my strong suit; attention to detail was crucial as a legal
assistant, but I’d perfected it long ago when I was still training for my black belt.
And now, trapped here, I’d use it to my advantage. I’d study the rotation of the
guards, their shifts, the German Shepherds who followed certain guards on leashes,
and the assault rifles they used. The FN SCAR was becoming increasingly popular
among the military for an assault rifle, yet Darren’s men seemed to have plenty to
go around; some were even equipped with damn grenade launchers. It was like they
were all prepared to go to war on the estate at any time. I wondered who was
supplying Darren with such high-quality firearms, if he had a deal with someone or
if he simply manufactured them himself.
Building the house of cards on my little white desk gave me the opportunity to
appear focused on something as mundane as stacking cards on top of each other,
but I was really building something else entirely—assumptions.
Assuming Darren relied on others to supply his kingdom with weapons, there
was a chance that supply could run dry should the right connection become
severed. He’d no longer have access to such steel protection, at least not illegally.
And I also assumed his supply of ammunition ran the same way, potentially by the
same supplier.
I assumed that every jar Darren had his fingers in required a connection, a
business arrangement, a contract, and a person. Those persons needed to become
targets, misrepresented targets. I needed to figure out a way to collect as much intel
on Darren’s people as possible, find out their connections, and eliminate their
resources. Whether they were financial, social, or even political, every last thread
that tied Darren to his resources needed to be severed. I just didn’t know how the
fuck I was going to accomplish that, considering how discreet Darren was around
me.
The only thing that didn’t require an assumption was Darren’s obsession over
me. I didn’t get it. I thought I was more trouble than I was worth, but he was
obviously confident in his ability to break me in and ensure my obedience. In a way,
it was working because I needed him to trust me again. I needed to get him to let
down his guard, but I knew that would take years to accomplish, and I didn’t know
if I had years in me.
Sitting back in my chair to admire my masterpiece, I
