Chapter 10: “I feel like a slut.”

Later that night, the Ferrari pulled into the penthouse garage. The engine went quiet, and Julian’s hand had rested on my thigh the entire drive back home, pressing through the cashmere coat. But this time, I allowed it to stay there.

Seeing my father lying helpless in that hospital bed had changed something inside of me. I wasn’t angry anymore. Instead, the panic had faded, leaving behind a sharp, icy calm. A dark, quiet smile spread across my face.

Beside me, Julian studied my face in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

“You have been unusually quiet,” he observed, his deep voice breaking the silence inside the car.

“I am tired,” I said, keeping my voice flat.

He gave me a small nod before pulling his hand away and stepping out into the chilly garage.

I watched him as he walked around to my side of the car, opened the passenger door, and held out his left hand. He looked down at me with that same unreadable expression.

“Let us go inside, fake wife.”

The ride up in the private elevator passed in total silence. By the time we stepped into the foyer, the house was dark. The staff had already retired for the night. I followed a step behind Julian as we crossed the polished floor and climbed the floating staircase.

Back in the master bedroom, Julian headed straight for the walk-in closet, the manila folder still in his hand. I followed him in, my hands clenching into tight fists at my sides as anger burned through my chest.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“If you have nothing to do with the poison, then why the hell are you keeping my father’s medical files away from me?” I demanded, my eyes fixed on his back.

Julian didn’t answer me. Instead, he walked over to the sleek digital safe built into the wall. I stood just behind his shoulder, my eyes locked on his right hand as his fingers moved quickly across the glowing keypad.

Two… four… nine… seven… one… three.

I quickly memorized the six-digit code before his broad back cut off my view.

The heavy steel door shut with a dull clunk. Without even looking at me, Julian turned and disappeared into the master bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him.

“Asshole,” I muttered to the empty room.

I stood there, breathing hard. My fingers trembled as I yanked the buttons of the cashmere coat open one by one. I shrugged it off and tossed it onto a nearby chair. It landed with a dull thud.

My reflection stared back at me from the mirror. The delicate white lace lingerie clung tightly to my body. A wave of disgust rose in my throat.

“I feel like a slut,” I murmured.

The fabric scratched against my skin. My fingers tightened around the edges of the lace, my jaw clenched.

“I am not his toy,” I hissed.

Something decent. That’s all I need right now to cover my body.

I stepped deeper into the massive walk-in closet and began pulling open his neatly organized drawers, searching for an oversized T-shirt or a pair of pajamas.

The cheap emergency slides slapped softly against the floor as I moved from one drawer to the next. The smell of his clothes, cedar and the same cologne that lingered on the shirt I wore earlier, filled the air around me.

I stopped in front of the full-length mirror inside the closet, staring at my reflection.

“We’ll go shopping,” he had said back at the office. “You can buy whatever you need. No limits.”

I yanked open another drawer and shoved his silk shirts aside. The expensive fabric slipped uselessly through my fingers.

“And somehow he still found a way to make the whole damn trip about himself.”

I kept searching, pulling open drawer after drawer. My breath came in short, jagged gasps.

“Bring out the lingerie,” he said back at the store.

My eyes rolled before I could stop them.

Another empty drawer slammed shut.

“I didn’t even get the chance to pick out what I wanted. I walked out of that store without a single normal nightie.”

I paused, my hand still resting on the drawer.

“Take it off,” he had said back at the store. 

A small frown creased my forehead.

“Hmm… What was that even about?”

My search slowed as I pulled open a deep drawer on the center island, and my hand stopped mid-air.

Hidden behind a row of neatly folded black silk boxers, a custom velvet-lined tray caught my eye. I blinked, my breath caught as I took in the contents. Premium leather cuffs, a heavy red leather blindfold, a sleek whip, and polished steel restraints.

I blinked again, my mouth still slightly open.

“What the fuck?” I whispered.

I picked up one of the leather cuffs, then the blindfold, turning them over in my hands. They looked expensive. Well-used, too.

“Are these… what I think they are?”

My heart pounded against my ribs.

“This guy is really twisted.”

I grabbed my phone from the dresser, snapped a picture of the tray, and ran it through an image search. The results came back almost instantly.

BDSM kit. A collection of restraints and accessories used in consensual dominance and submission.

My eyes drifted back to the tray.

“So… that’s what all this stuff is for.”

He already had everyone around him under his thumb. So what did he need all this for?

The thought hit me hard enough to break my trance, and the cuff slipped from my trembling fingers, landing on the velvet tray with a dull thud.

I stared at the polished leather restraints, then let my gaze wander across the closet until it settled on the clean steel face of the safe. Slowly, my attention drifted back to the restraints before shifting toward the closed bathroom door.

Julian was still in there.

The steady sound of running water behind the door told me he was taking a shower.

I looked from the steel safe to the locked bathroom door, the pieces finally falling into place. Julian thought he was untouchable. He had built a fortress where he controlled every lock and every person. He wanted me to submit. He wanted to be my master.

“What a twisted prick,” I whispered.

A slow, dangerous smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Something wild sparked inside me, pushing my fear aside and replacing it with pure, icy adrenaline. If he thrived on control, then I would give him the ultimate illusion of it. I would make him so blind with his own desires that he would never see me coming.

Even if it meant using my own body, I would get the truth out of that safe tonight.

Whatever it took.

I reached for the red leather blindfold, my fingers wrapping around the cool leather. They lingered there for a second.

Was I really about to do this?

A chill crept down my spine. What if I couldn’t pull it off?

I closed my eyes for a brief moment and pushed the thought aside.

I carried it, along with a few other items, back into the bedroom and tossed them onto the dark silk duvet, deliberately scattering the metal chains and leather straps across the bed.

I paused, staring at the pile.

“How do you even use these things?” I whispered to myself.

I had no idea what I was doing. Right now, I didn’t care.

I slipped the red mask over my eyes, shutting out the room and leaving me in complete darkness. Without my sight, the steady ticking of the clock on the nightstand suddenly sounded twice as loud, matching the uneven rhythm of my pulse.

Then I crawled onto the mattress and settled in the center of the bed. Taking a slow breath, I arched my back and lifted one leg slightly, arranging myself with careful intent.

I lay there waiting, my pulse racing as I listened for the bathroom door to open.