Chapter 7

Gerald returned to the penthouse later that evening. The elevator doors slid open with a soft sound and he stepped into the quiet space. 

The lights were low. Everything felt still after the long day. He walked down the hallway and stopped in front of Lily’s door. 

For a moment he just stood there with his hand on the handle, feeling the weight of what he had done that morning. Then he unlocked it and pushed the door open.

Lily sat on the edge of the bed in silence. She still wore the same clothing from earlier. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders and her eyes lifted the second the door moved. She looked tired but not broken.

Gerald felt a sharp anger at himself. He had locked her in all day as punishment even though part of him had been proud of the way she slapped Cleo back without fear. That fire in her still sat in his mind. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said.

He waited a second longer. “Have you eaten anything?”

“No.”

One-word answers. Cold and short.

He could see the anger in her eyes even if her voice stayed flat. She was still furious with him. He should have said sorry. The word sat heavy on his tongue but never left his mouth. He could not bring himself to apologize. Men like him did not say those words easily.

Lily had spent the whole day locked inside that room, angry and hungry. The hours had dragged. Her stomach had twisted with emptiness but it was nothing she could not handle. She had faced worse on the streets and in cold rooms with no food at all. 

When the door finally opened and she saw Gerald standing there, the first thing she felt was relief. At least she was not staying locked in overnight. 

Still, she did not know what to expect next. More punishment? Or would he force her into bed even though her stomach was empty and her body was tired? The thought made her shoulders tighten.

Gerald’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Go eat.”

She stared at him for a second, surprised by the order. Then she stood up slowly. Her legs felt a little weak from sitting so long. He stepped aside so she could pass, then followed close behind her toward the kitchen. 

She could feel him walking just a step away, the heat of his body near hers in the hallway. The lights in the  living room area were already on. When she reached the dining space she stopped short.

The table was set for two. Plates of warm food sat waiting along with side dishes, fresh bread, roasted vegetables, and two glasses of dark red wine. Everything looked carefully prepared.

She turned and looked at him, a clear surprise on her face.

“The chef came earlier,” Gerald said. His voice was calm. “He prepared everything before I got back.”

Lily did not answer right away. She simply pulled out a chair and sat down. Gerald took the seat across from her. They began to eat in silence. The only sounds were the soft clink of cutlery against plates and the distant noise of the city beyond the tall windows.

Lily ate slowly at first, testing the food, then faster once the real hunger took over. The meat was tender. The bread was still warm. She had not tasted a meal like this in a long time. Gerald watched her between bites but said nothing. 

He noticed the way her shoulders slowly dropped as the food settled in her stomach. He also noticed the soft curve of her neck when she bent her head, and the way the robe slipped a little lower on one shoulder. His eyes lingered there longer than they should have.

The silence between them felt heavy but not empty. Lily could feel his gaze on her from time to time. 

She kept her eyes on her plate and tried not to think about how close he sat. Part of her still expected him to stand up, walk around the table, and take what he wanted. He had done it before without asking. 

The memory of his hands and the rough way he used her body stayed under her skin. Yet tonight he stayed in his chair and simply ate.

When both plates were empty Gerald leaned back and studied her face.

“Tomorrow night we are attending a birthday dinner party,” he said. “Designers will be here in the morning to get you ready. Go to your room and relax.”

Lily looked up at him, shocked. She had expected more punishment. Another locked door. Maybe orders to strip and take him even while her body still felt weak from the long day. Instead he was telling her about a party and designers coming in the morning. The words did not match anything she had prepared herself for.

“A party?” she asked.

“Yes. Don Marco’s birthday. Important people will be there. You will come with me.”

She swallowed. “Alright.”

He gave a short nod. “Go rest. You will need it.”

Lily stood up, pushed her chair in carefully, and walked back toward her room. She could feel his eyes on her back the entire way. The soft fabric of the robe brushed against her bare legs with every step. She did not look over her shoulder.

She changed into a soft nightdress that the wardrobe had provided, the silk cool against her skin, then climbed into the large bed and pulled the covers up to her chest.

Sleep came slower than she expected. Her mind kept turning over everything that had happened. Cleo’s cold voice and the sharp sting of the slap. The way she had hit back without thinking. 

The long hours alone with only her anger and hunger for company. Gerald’s face when he opened the door. The way he had not said sorry even though she could see something like regret in his eyes. And now a party tomorrow night where she would have to stand beside him in front of other powerful people.

She shifted under the covers and stared at the dark ceiling. Her body still remembered the feel of his hands from the nights before. The rough way he took her. The way he left her aching and unfinished. Part of her hated how easily her skin reacted to the memory. Another part of her simply felt tired of fighting every moment.

Outside in the living room Gerald poured himself another drink and stood by the tall windows. The city lights of Crimson Hollow spread out below him. He thought about the look on Lily’s face when she saw the food. He thought about the one-word answers and the anger she had not bothered to hide. He still could not say the word sorry. But he had fed her. He had told her to rest. And tomorrow he would take her out into his world on his arm.

He drank slowly and kept staring at the lights. Tomorrow will be different. He already knew it.

In her room Lily finally felt sleep pull her under. The last clear thought in her mind was simple and tired. She had survived worse than a locked door and a silent meal. She would survive whatever came next too. Even if the man who owned her body still refused to say he was wrong.