Chapter 08: Control Me If You Can.

Bree.

Morning came slowly, like my body refused to accept it. I was still lying in bed with the letter, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that had happened the night before.

The silence in the room felt heavy, almost uncomfortable, like something was missing or… someone. A soft knock came from the door, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Before I could answer, the door opened gently and the maid walked in, pushing a tray of breakfast. The smell of fresh bread and eggs filled the room, but I didn’t feel hungry. My mind was somewhere else entirely.

She placed the tray carefully on the table beside me and turned with a polite smile. I watched her for a few seconds before finally speaking, my voice slightly rough from sleep and frustration.

“Did he leave anything… any message before he left?” I asked, trying to sound calm, even though my chest felt tight.

The maid paused for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully. Then she shook her head slowly.

“No, ma’am. He didn’t leave any message. He left very early this morning,” she replied.

Her tone was respectful, but there was something else in it… something like quiet disapproval.

I sat up properly now, folding my arms as I stared at the untouched food. “Of course he didn’t,” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to her.

The maid hesitated, then spoke again, a little more boldly this time. “If I may say something, ma’am… that man is not easy to understand. He says one thing and does another. He likes control… and sometimes, he enjoys confusing people.”

I looked up at her, surprised by how honest she sounded.

“You mean he’s a liar?” I asked, raising a brow.

She gave a small, knowing smile. “Not exactly a liar… but he knows how to twist things to his advantage. He’s very manipulative.”

Her words sank into me slowly, and I leaned back against the bed, letting out a dry laugh. “Yeah… I’ve noticed.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt different now, less formal.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your breakfast,” she said gently, turning toward the door.

I nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah… thanks.”

She walked out quietly, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone again with my thoughts.

I sighed and dragged my fingers through my hair, trying to calm the irritation building inside me. That man… everything about him just felt wrong, confusing, and annoying.

As my eyes wandered around the room, something caught my attention on the small table near the bed.

A phone.

I frowned slightly and reached for it, picking it up and turning it in my hands. It looked simple, nothing special, but something about it didn’t sit right with me.

I unlocked it and tried checking through it, scrolling through the options, but almost immediately, I realized something was off.

There were no contacts.

Except one.

The Billionaire's.

My jaw tightened.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, trying again, checking the network, the settings… nothing. No signal. No internet. No access to anything outside.

It was like being trapped.

Frustration rose sharply in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I threw the phone lightly onto the bed.

“So this is how he wants to play it?!” I snapped, standing up angrily. “No network? No outside contact? What am I supposed to do here! Just sit and wait for him like some… prisoner???!”

My voice echoed in the room, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I grabbed the phone again, my fingers tightening around it as anger took over.

Without thinking twice, I dialed the only number available. It rang once. Twice. Then he picked.

His voice came through calm, controlled, and annoyingly formal. “Good morning.”

That alone made my blood boil.

“Don’t ‘good morning’ me,” I snapped immediately, pacing around the room. “Why the hell would you drop that letter after everything that happened last night? What exactly are you trying to do?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and I could almost imagine him sitting somewhere, completely relaxed, like none of this mattered.

When he spoke again, his tone remained the same...cool and distant.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re referring to,” he said smoothly.

I stopped walking, disbelief hitting me hard. “Are you serious right now? You don’t understand? After everything, you’re acting like you know nothing?!”

“I believe you are overreacting,” he replied, his voice calm but edged with arrogance. “You are here for a purpose, Bree. Let us not mix emotions with business.”

His words felt like a slap.

“Business?” I let out a sharp laugh. “Is that what you call this now? You think you can just do whatever you want and hide behind that word?”

He didn’t respond immediately, and when he did, his tone dropped slightly, becoming firmer.

“You seem stressed,” he said. “And that is not good for you… or the baby.”

I rolled my eyes hard. “Don’t you dare act like you care.”

“I care about results,” he corrected smoothly. “And in order to ensure everything goes well, I have arranged something for tonight.”

I narrowed my eyes, already irritated. “What now?”

“I will be taking you out,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Consider it part of the schedule.”

I scoffed loudly. “Fuck you and your outings! I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m not falling for whatever game you’re trying to play!”

There was a small pause, then his voice came back, colder this time.

“It is not a request,” he said. “It is a decision. So, Dress nice, smell nice and be ready by evening.”

My grip on the phone tightened. “You don’t get to order me around like that.”

“I already did,” he replied simply.

And just like that..The call ended.

I stared at the phone for a second, my chest rising and falling quickly as anger burned through me.

“Unbelievable!” I yelled, throwing the phone onto the bed again. “That man is actually insane!”

The door opened again, and the maid rushed in, clearly hearing my voice.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” she asked, looking concerned.

I turned to her, still boiling. “Does it look like I’m alright? That man is impossible!”

She stepped closer, her expression calm but understanding. “I can imagine.”

I ran my hands through my hair, pacing again. “He thinks he can control everything… no network, no freedom, now he’s ordering me to go out with him like I don’t have a choice.”

The maid watched me quietly for a moment, then spoke in a softer tone.

“I have worked for him for years,” she said slowly. “And there is something I have noticed about him.”

I stopped pacing and looked at her.

“He enjoys reactions,” she continued. “When people get angry, confused, or emotional after he rage baits or manipulates them… he feels in control. That is how he wins.”

Her words made me pause.

“If you really want to deal with him,” she added, “then don’t react the way he expects. Surprise him.”

I frowned slightly, thinking about it.

“Tonight, you are going out with him, right?” she asked.

I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped.

“…Seems like I don’t have a choice,” I muttered.

She nodded. “Then don’t go as the woman he thinks you are.”

I raised a brow. “Meaning?”

A small smile spread across her face. “If he goes low… you go lower. Be the kind of woman he has never dealt with before. Be the bitch he never saw coming.”

For a second, I just stared at her. Then slowly… something clicked.

A small smile formed on my lips.

“You know what…” I said quietly, my eyes lighting up, “you’re right.”

She smiled wider.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “He really thinks he has everything under control, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, he does,” she replied. “Until someone proves him wrong.”

I crossed my arms, feeling a new kind of energy rising inside me. “Yeah… well, tonight, he’s about to get a taste of his own medicine.”

The maid chuckled softly.

I looked at her, a playful spark in my eyes now. “What a man can do…”

She completed it instantly, smiling. “A woman can do it better.”

We both laughed.

And for the first time that morning, I felt something different.

Not anger. Not frustration. But excitement.

Because tonight…It was going down.