OWNED BY HIM

Tori**

My head is still spinning, and no matter how many times I blink, the person standing in front of me doesn’t change.

Out of everyone in this world to blackmail me.

It had to be this devil?

“What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?” A cold smile slowly spreads across his face as he watches the shock settle into me, like he’s enjoying every second of it. 

“H…how did you get that video?” I force the words out, my voice unsteady despite my effort to control it.

For a moment, he doesn’t utter a word. Then, he tilts his head slightly, as if deciding whether I’m even worth answering. 

“I went out to have some fun at a club as usual last night,” he begins casually. “But then…I came across something even more fun,” he continues, letting out a faint laugh. “Dancing shamelessly for men who happen to find someone like you…attractive.”

Heat rushes to my face instantly the moment he utters those words, humiliation burning through me so quickly it almost makes me dizzy. But I force myself to act composed, making sure he sees that his stupid words didn’t bother me.

“Delete it,” I step forward despite the fear clawing at me. “Please, no one can ever see that video.”

“And why would I do that? When I’m actually thinking of posting it,” he shoots back, as if he’s talking about something insignificant. “Seems like a  befitting payback for yesterday, don’t you think?”

“No—Dylan, you can’t. That’s…” I struggle to steady my voice, “What you’re trying to do is illegal. I can report to you.”

A laughter tears out of him instantly—a sound that sends a chill down my spine. “You’ll report me?” he says, stepping closer. “And you really think that would end well for you?” He leans in slightly, and his voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. 

“My parents could bury something like this before it even starts, but as for you?” His eyes rake through me with utter disgust, “You’re nothing but a poor scholarship student trying to survive.”

“What do you want from me, Dylan?” I finally ask, the words barely audible. 

“Good…now we’re talking.” He watches me carefully, like he’s trying to decide the most befitting punishment to unleash on me. 

Then he says, almost lazily, “Get on your knees.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he snaps back. “Or do you need me to repeat myself?”

Every instinct in me screams not to do it—to walk away, and act as if this never happened. But then the image in that video flashes in my mind, how badly my life would be ruined if it ever got out.

My knees hit the floor without a second thought.

“Please,” I whisper, the word scraping out of me. “I’m on my knees as you wanted…just delete the video.”

For a moment, he says nothing. Then he leans closer until there is no inch of space left between us, his fingers lifting my chin so I’m forced to look at him. 

“You haven’t convinced me, yet.” he says quietly, “But I might hold off on posting it… That’s if you do exactly what I say.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I respond quickly. “Anything.”

A slow smile spreads across his face as he studies me for a moment longer, before straightening.

 “Stand up.”

I hesitate only briefly before obeying, and I force myself up, my entire body trembling foolishly beneath his gaze. 

Before I realize anything, he moves.

Fast.

One second I’m standing there, the next my back is pressed against the cold concrete wall. My breath catches sharply as his hand grips my waist, pinning me in place.

“W—“

His mouth crashes into mine before I can even finish the words. Next, his arm is yanking me so tight against his body, I can’t draw a full breath. His other hand fists in my hair, jerking my head back at the exact position he wants, and then he’s inside my mouth. 

His tongue forces its way past every weak attempt I make to resist, pushing, clawing at his chest for distance, but it’s like shoving a wall. He deepens the kiss even more, swallowing the small, panicked sound that escapes me.

Then—

He rips himself back.

He steps half a distance away, but his hand is still locked on my waist, gripping just hard enough to keep me from staggering backward. 

“Wow,” his voice is low, and dripping with mockery. “You must feel on top of the fucking world right now, huh? The great Dylan Palmer just kissed an unattractive fat girl like you…bet you’ve been dreaming about that for years.”

His thumb brushes across my bottom lip once—slow, almost gentle, smearing the wetness there like he’s marking the damage he did. 

“I…I’m sorry,” the words rip out of me. “I didn’t understand before, but now I will…I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t post it.”

Silence stretches between us for a terrifying second, and for the first time since this started… Dylan looks caught off guard.

His eyes stay on mine a second longer than they should, but then, he clears his throat and steps back, like he needs the distance.

“I’ll let you know when I need you,” he says shortly.

“I don’t—“

Before I can finish speaking, he turns and starts to walk away without another word, leaving me standing there all alone.

Fuck!!!

“What the hell have I just gotten myself—“

Crap!

I cut myself short the moment my eyes lands on the time etched on my phone screen. 

3:00 P.M

The interview!

Everything crashes into me at once, but there’s no time to process what just happened now. I shove my phone back into my bag and rush out of the gym, forcing my legs to move faster even though my body is still recovering.

**********

By the time I reach the main road, my chest is tight and my thoughts are all over the place. Dylan’s voice keeps echoing in my head, along with the kiss—

No!

I shake my head sharply.

Focus, Tori!

I can’t think about him right now.

I order a ride quickly, my fingers moving faster than my thoughts, and within minutes I’m in the back seat, trying—and failing—terribly to steady my breathing. 

I press my lips together and stare out the window.

Don’t let him get into your head, Tori Vegas.

You’re so much stronger than that.

Ten minutes later, the car finally stops, and I barely wait before pushing the door open. One look at the huge mansion towering in front of me makes my stomach twist.

I’m late. Definitely late.

Panic claws through my chest as I adjust my bag and hurry up to the door. I don’t even give myself a second to breathe before I knock.

KNOCK!

KNO—

The door opens almost immediately, and a well- dressed woman is standing in front of me, composed and calm.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I say quickly. “There was—”

“It’s alright,” she cuts in gently. “You’re here for the job right? Come in.”

“Thank you so much, Ma’am,” I murmur as I step inside. The house is beautiful— too beautiful, the kind of place that makes you afraid to dare touch anything.

Just as I take another step, something crashes upstairs, and I flinch.

“Oh my goodness!” the woman calls out, looking up toward the stairs. “Will you stop up there?!” She lets out a small sigh, then turns back to me with an apologetic smile. 

“I’m so sorry for the interruption. Please, pardon my manners.”

“It’s fine,” I reply quickly, shaking my head. “Really.”

She glances upstairs again, clearly a little irritated this time. “Could you come downstairs for a moment?” Her eyes are fixed on whoever is standing there, her voice serious now.

I stay where I am, facing her, trying to keep my expression calm even though my nerves are still all over the place. 

Then I hear it.

Footsteps.

Slow. Steady.

Coming from behind me.

The woman’s face brightens instantly now, and the frustration etched across her face earlier is gone. “Oh, perfect timing,” she smiles warmly, looking past me. “Meet my son—”

I turn.

Shock crashes through me, so sharp it feels like the ground has disappeared beneath my feet.

“Dylan?!”