Chapter 2

The next day was Monday, which meant Charlotte belonged to Dylan.

Whenever it was Dylan's turn to have Charlotte to himself, Zeke and Arthur left the mansion to give them some privacy.

After freshening up, Charlotte went downstairs and found Dylan alone in the living room.

"Rested up?" he asked.

He lounged on the couch in casual clothes, sunlight streaming through the window and highlighting his handsome features. His expression was as distant as ever, but in that light, his eyes looked more like Max's than ever.

Max, though, had never looked at her with such coldness.

Charlotte nodded as she came down the last few steps. Before she could sit down, Dylan strode over and scooped her into his arms.

"If you're rested, it's time to get to work."

He carried her to his bedroom and tossed her onto the bed. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air.

Within moments, he'd stripped them both naked. As always, he was rough with her, never easing up.

Of the three men, Dylan was the most possessive of Charlotte's body.

He'd always loved Hazel's slender waist. He'd fallen for her after watching her dance at their school's anniversary ball. Ever since she'd gone overseas, he'd used Charlotte to satisfy the desire he still felt for Hazel.

But even as Dylan moved against her, Charlotte couldn't stop thinking about the person she'd seen in the photo database, the one who looked so much like Max.

Until recently, Dylan's eyes had reminded Charlotte of Max more than anyone else's. That was why she'd always looked into them with such affection whenever they were in bed together.

But a few days ago, she'd seen someone whose eyes looked even more like Max's. And it wasn't just his eyes. His nose, his mouth, every feature looked so much like Max's that it was almost like seeing him again.

Now she couldn't get that face out of her head. She had no desire to keep giving Dylan what he wanted.

Dylan could tell her mind was elsewhere. He grew rougher, forcing her attention back to him.

"Who are you thinking about? Zeke or Arthur?"

Charlotte let out a soft moan despite herself and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"No one. I'm not thinking about anything."

Dylan scoffed and thrust into her again.

"You never answered the question last night. Which one of us do you like best?"

Charlotte smiled and gave him the answer he wanted. "You, of course."

Dylan's expression remained cold. "You'd better mean that. If I find out you're closer to either of them than you are to me, you won't be getting out of bed for a week."

Charlotte couldn't make sense of his possessiveness. Just last night, he'd humiliated her in front of everyone, acting as though he couldn't stand being around her.

Yet that one moment of distraction was enough to keep her in bed for the next two days. Dylan had her whenever he pleased. He even had the staff bring her meals upstairs and fed her himself.

He never seemed to tire. Eventually, Charlotte couldn't take any more. It wasn't until she was crying and begging him to stop that he finally let her go.

As soon as Dylan went into the bathroom, Charlotte struggled out of bed. Still unsteady after the past two days, she accidentally knocked a mug to the floor as she got up.

The loud crash made her freeze.

Before she could react, Dylan rushed out of the bathroom and threw her to the floor.

"Charlotte!"

That was when Charlotte recognized the mug. Hazel had given it to Dylan years ago, just before she left the country. No wonder he'd flown into such a rage.