Mine: A Dark Billionaire Romance

by Brook Wilder

  "Whoa, Kels," I said.

  "I know," she replied. "It's even worse on Twitter. I've been trying to find where it all stems from, but I haven't had any luck. Whoever did this covered their trail really well."

  "I think I know where to check," I said. "I think Victor was angry enough to do something stupid like this."

  I clicked onto Victor's profile and found nothing. His last post was from yesterday, and it had nothing to do with me or Garrett. I should have known he wouldn't put anything incriminating on his public page, though. He was too smart for that.

  "I'm way ahead of you, girl," Kelsey said. "Every one of his profiles is spotless, but I did find a link though a friend of a friend that lead me to a secret Facebook Group called, and I'm sorry about this, 'Laina Albertson is a Slut'."

  "Send me the link," I said tersely.

  "Are you sure? I've read through some of that stuff and it's really nasty. You don't have to put yourself through that."

  "I need to see what I'm dealing with," I said.

  A second later I got a new message from Kelsey with a link. I clicked on it and was immediately disgusted. There were several photos posted already, and most of them featured my head Photo-shopped onto the bodies of various porn stars. I clicked on the about section of the group and started reading through a wall of text. This was the first time I saw Garrett's name getting dragged in, and I made a mental note to warn him later.

  The text started out by attacking Garrett's apparently less than ethical business practices and then moved on to claiming that I was acting as his personal escort. Garrett was apparently paying me handsomely to fulfill his lecherous desires and that this group was to serve as a public service announcement. My stomach churned as I looked through the group's members. There were five hundred people here already, and it looked like even more were joining by the second. While I didn't know most of them, there were a couple of familiar faces on the list. It made me sick to think that people I knew were buying into this bullshit.

  "What the hell…" I said.

  "You're telling me," Kelsey replied. "Here's the thing. I checked through everything I could find, and Victor's name isn't anywhere to be found."

  "Who made the group, then?" I asked.

  "Literally, a guy named John Doe," she replied. "It's obviously a fake page Victor made to cover his tracks, and I have proof!"

  "How?"

  "I almost missed it, but I found out that he messed up when he made the fake page," she said excitedly. "He used his personal email to make the page. All you have to do is plug in Victor's email into the search bar, and both profiles pop up."

  "Thanks, Kelsey, for letting me know. I'll call you back later. I need to see if I can get Victor to delete the group."

  "Sure thing!" she replied. "I'll call him too, for added muscle."

  I hung up and immediately texted Victor while I recorded the necessary evidence. I didn't want to take this any further than an angry text message, but I needed to cover my tracks just in case.

  Shut the group down, I said.

  I don't know what you're talking about, he replied.

  I'm done playing this game. I know you made a fake profile, I have screen shots of your personal email attached to it. Shut the group down before the cops come to my door thinking I'm a prostitute. If you don't, I'll get a lawyer, I said.

  Fine, he replied.

  The page was gone within minutes, but I knew the damage was already done. My reputation was trashed. It didn't matter if what Victor had said was true or not, people had believed him enough to send me nasty messages.

  With a sigh, I either deleted or hid most of my social media accounts. It wouldn't erase what had already happened, but doing so would at least stem the flow of new messages. Hopefully, I could re-instate my internet presence once everything died down. I also spent an hour or so reporting every image or message about me I could find that wasn't a part of the official group. I shuddered to think what would happen if, in a couple of years as I was applying to jobs, a potential employer found one of these images.

  The worst part about this entire situation, though, was the fact that Victor was telling the truth, whether he knew it or not. Garrett was paying me for sex and that made me a prostitute no matter how we tried to justify it.

  My phone suddenly started buzzing again, and I groaned aloud. My stomach dropped as I saw that my dad was calling me. I picked the phone up, praying that it was just a coincidence that he was calling and that he hadn't somehow found out about Victor's antics.

  "Hi Dad," I said as cheerfully as I could manage. "What's up?"

  "Nothing much Laina," he said. His voice sounded worried, and he paused for a while before he continued. "I'm just calling because I got an interesting email a little bit ago. It's from a man named Victor, and he claims to be a friend of yours."

  "He is," I said carefully. "Or maybe was, depending on what he sent you."

  "I..." he started.”Honestly, I don't want to even think about what I just read, let alone tell you about it."

  "It's ok, Dad. I think I know what it's about, you don't have to tell me," I said. My worst fears were coming true. Why the hell did Victor need to bring my dad into all of this?

  "Is it true what he's saying about this Garrett fellow? That he's... paying you?" he asked. "Not that I would ever think it is, I just need to hear it from you."

  "No, not entirely. I am seeing a guy named Garrett and he is particularly wealthy, but it's not like that. Victor's just spreading rumors."

  I felt queasy lying to my dad like this, but he didn't need to know what his baby girl was getting up to. I was slowly realizing that if Garrett and I continued to see each other that this would be a part of my life my dad would never truly know about.

  "I'm glad to hear that," he said with a sigh. "How are you doing, sweetie? It sounds like you've had a rough day."

  "I'm not doing too good. The email you saw was only the tip of the iceberg. It looks like Victor spent the better part of his afternoon spreading lies about me on the Internet. He even made a Facebook group."

  "I always told you those sites were a bad idea. Have you thought about going to the police?"

  "I have screenshots, just in case. I got him to take most of it down, though."

  "That's good. Who is this Garrett fellow, by the way? When were you going to tell your old man about your boyfriend?"

  "He's not really my boyfriend yet, Dad. We only started dating a few days ago..."

  I trailed off, wondering how to describe Garrett to my father. This was a conversation I was definitely not prepared for.

  "I can tell you want to keep your secrets, so I won't pry. Just keep me in the loop, okay?"

  "I will dad," I replied.

  "I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing," he said. "Love you, Laina!"

  "Love you too, Dad."

  After I hung up, I flopped back down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. I picked up my phone again and shot a quick text off to Victor. I knew I should probably just ignore him from now on, I was too angry not to say something.

  Thanks for dragging my dad into this, asshole, I said.

  I could tell he read the message, but the seconds ticked by without a response. I set my phone aside and closed my eyes in an attempt to calm down. I tried to recall the happiness I'd felt yesterday when Garrett had taken my hand. Even that memory was tainted now. I had been so certain that the connection we shared was mutual, but everything that had happened in the past couple of hours had ruined my trust in Garrett. As if on cue, I heard a phone buzz. It was coming from my bag, and since my personal phone was on the bed next to me, it had to be Garrett.

  I'm picking you up tomorrow night at 5, the text said, I have something fun planned for us!

  I stared at the screen as nausea bloomed in my stomach. I knew the right thing would be to call him immediately and talk about what happened, but I just couldn't bring myself to press the button. Maybe this was all in my head, and after a g
ood night’s sleep, I'd realize how much I was overreacting.

  Sleep didn't come easily, though. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see were the altered photos of me and Victor's angry eyes staring into my soul.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I'm waiting, the text read.

  I looked outside my bedroom window to see Garrett's SUV idling on the curb outside my house. I grabbed my purse and coat and hustled down the stairs. He was actually five minutes early, which caught me off guard. I supposed that was his plan, though. When I reached the car, the door opened and Garrett gestured for me to enter.

  For a second I just stood there and stared at the open door. The interior of the car stretched out before me like a cave. I felt like I'd been transported back through time to our first date, and it was now time to decide if I wanted to enter the car or not. My legs felt like they were filled with lead, and I almost gave into the temptation to turn and run back into my apartment.

  "Laina?" Garrett said from inside the car, "Are you coming?"

  I shook those feelings off, though. I was being silly. This wasn't the cold, ruthless Garrett who'd take me to Per Se. I'd shared my deepest truths with him, and he'd done the same. I hopped in the car, desperately trying to ignore the images of Victor's cyber bullying out of my mind.

  "Are you ready for tonight?" he asked, his eyes glinting with excitement.

  "I think I am," I replied, trying to keep the hesitation out of my voice. "What do you have planned?"

  "Oh, you'll see," he said.

  We stayed silent for the rest of the ride over to his penthouse. I wasn't sure if it was just me, but as I sat in the car with him, it felt like all of the old walls between us had gone back up. It didn't seem to matter how I tried to ignore it, Victor had managed to get under my skin. The Garrett I knew from the park, the one who had told me about his father, was slowly slipping away from me. I knew it was all part of the game, and that my own experiences over the past hour were flavoring my mindset, but I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to relax enough to enjoy myself tonight.

  As soon as we arrived, Garrett ushered me into his bedroom. I tried to smile, as I watched him slowly get into character. We were starting the scene, and I had to quickly get into a mind frame that would make the events of the next few hours at least tolerable.

  "Undress," he said. "Quickly, no teasing."

  I did as I was told, completely disrobing in a matter of seconds. I remembered that I did have one thing going for me. All I had to do to keep Garrett happy was speak when spoken to and do as he said. Easy enough, right?

  Goosebumps erupted over my bare skin as Garrett surveyed me. With a satisfied grunt, he turned toward a dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. I tried to crane my neck to see what the drawer contained, but all I could make out was a jumble of leather, shiny metal, and plastic. He looked over the contents for a minute before pulling out something I could only describe as a configuration of leather and chains. As he held it out to me, I saw that it was actually a thick collar connected by chains to a pair of handcuffs. The chains were locked in place with small padlocks, as were the clasps on the handcuffs. I watched as Garrett slipped the keys into his jacket pocket.

  "Hold out your wrists," he said. "And keep your eyes on mine."

  I did so, and he took the handcuffs buckled them around my wrist, the metal clasps clicking into place. I was surprised to find that the cuffs were lined with fur, and the texture felt luxurious against my skin. The larger loop went around my neck, and I realized that the thickness of the band made it impossible for me to tilt my head down. From now on, I'd have no choice but to look Garrett in the eyes. The chains also made it impossible for me to drop my hands fully to my side.

  "Does everything feel secure?" he asked.

  I nodded my response, and he turned to exit the room. I followed him, assuming the implied directive, but he whipped around to face me before I made it out the door. He was wearing a small grin, and I realized I had been tricked. Was this how the whole night was going to be? Me walking on eggshells, hoping I didn't accidentally do something wrong?

  "Did I ask you to follow me?" he said.

  "N-no," I stuttered.

  "Laina," he said. "I won't punish you for that, but tonight I expect you to do everything I say when I say it, and only when I say it. Understand?"

  "Yes," I replied, wondering what sort of punishment I might expect if I disobeyed again.

  "Yes, what?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good girl," he replied. "You wait here, and I'll come get you when I'm ready."

  He walked out of the room, and I stood frozen, unsure of what to make of everything he had just said. I felt my stomach roll and my hands break out into a cold sweat. Normally I would be excited, but tonight I was simply nervous. While him exerting control over me like this was fairly tame compared to the rape fantasy we'd enacted no too long ago, I honestly felt less trust for him now than I ever had. What were his real intentions? Was the day in the park about him opening up to me or really just a ruse to keep me compliant? I didn't have much time to think before Garrett came back into the room.

  "Follow me," he said in a growl.

  He turned and left the room, and I trotted to keep up. As I entered the living room, I saw that he had pushed all of the furniture to the side, save for one, wooden dining room chair and a low coffee table that held an array of intimidating looking leather toys. The fireplace blazed in the background, making the scene feel even more primal, a stark contrast to the tasteful, modern decor.

  "Stand here," he said, pointing to a spot just in front of the chair.

  After I had done so, Garrett leaned down and picked a ball gag up from the table. The strap was again, leather, and the ball a bright cherry red.

  "I think you're ready for this," he said huskily. "Do you agree?"

  "Yes, sir," I replied. My whole body tensed up, despite the confidence and desire I tried to inject into my voice. I watched Garrett's eyes flick down my body, and his mouth curled into an irritated scowl. I was certain he saw my hesitation, but instead of backing down, he continued.

  "We'll have to adjust our safe word system," he said as he stepped toward me, "Open your mouth. Just like that. Thumbs up will mean keep going, should I ask how you are doing. If we need to stop, get my attention and give me a thumbs down."

  I nodded, unable to speak now with the gag firmly in my mouth. He smiled, then turned back to the table. After a moment of deliberation, he picked up a leather paddle and sat down on the chair.

  "Lay down on my lap," he said, a mischievous grin break over his lips, "I know I said I wouldn't punish you earlier, but I lied. You've been a naughty girl, and a spanking is just what you need."

  I hesitated for a moment, but then awkwardly laid myself down over his legs. He adjusted me until my rear was poised perfectly in the air, then brought the paddle down sharply. The leather stung my bare skin, making a sharp smacking sound. He spanked me two more times before I heard him set the paddle down on the ground.

  "Are you ready to behave now?" Garrett asked in an authoritative tone.

  I nodded and whimpered slightly. Unlike our previous encounters, the sound was completely genuine and I wasn't sure If I could take another spanking. It may have only been three smacks of the paddle, but Garrett hadn't seemed to be holding back.

  "Good," Garrett replied. “Get up and go back to where you were standing."

  I did so as quickly as possible but watched him pick up the paddle again as I stepped back into place. He walked behind me, and I heard the swish of the paddle and tensed myself in anticipation. He gave me another swat on the rear and I let out a muffled cry of surprise. Normally the pain I felt during our scenes felt strangely good, but I just couldn't get into the mindset tonight. Maybe if I toughed it out a bit longer, it would start to feel good again. That's what I was praying would happen, at least.

  "On hands and knees," Garrett said.

  I knelt down as quickly as I cou
ld manage considering the pain I was still feeling from his spanking, but I was apparently taking too long for Garrett's liking. When I was in position, he gave me another swat, the hardest one yet, and my eyes start to water. I realized he hadn't been lying when he said he'd wanted to break me. I stared straight ahead, and when he stepped in my field of vision I avoid looking at him, knowing that any eye contact on my part will only let loose the tears that I had been thus far holding back.