Silent Daughter 3: Owned

by Stella Noir

  My heart jumps with excitement as I approach the door. The thought of seeing his bedroom, his private refuge, sends a warm tickle through my body. I can’t tell if I’m excited to see his bedroom out of genuine attraction, or if this is a small way of invading his privacy as he has done to me—a gesture of taking back a bit of the power.

  I slowly turn the doorknob, relieved to find that it is not locked. I open the door, and a wide smirk spreads across my face as I discover it is indeed a bedroom. The room is huge, bigger than mine, but just as sparsely furnished as every other room I have seen so far. There is a giant canopy bed to my left, with nightstands on either side. The wall opposite of the door is covered with floor length windows. None of the drapes are closed, and light gray daylight floods in.

  Opposite of the bed, to my right, I find a small desk with nothing on it but an old newspaper. The rest of the room is empty except for a big, wooden chest at the foot of the bed. It doesn’t match any of the other furniture and stands out with its rugged look. I cross through the room and come to a halt in front of the chest, pausing for a moment before I dare to see if I can open it. But unlike every door I have encountered so far, it is locked.

  I sigh with disappointment and spin around, scanning the room for anything else. It is just as empty as the rest of the house. No clothes, no personal belongings, nothing. The only thing that suggests that he is using this room is the paper on the desk and the closet next to the bed. The door of the closet is ajar, and when I walk over to it and open it, I find that he is using it for his wardrobe. Suits, shirts, ties, and a few less formal pieces of clothing, all very neatly put away. It is a cavernous walk-in closet, but he is not even using half of its space.

  I step inside and find the sweater he was wearing the day before on the boat. A weird sense of melancholy overwhelms me when I take it from the shelf, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers. I hold it up to my face and take in the smell of it. His smell, strangely alluring.

  A weird need for his presence overcomes me, and I find myself exchanging the bathrobe for his sweater. The soft fabric feels like a thousand tiny hands caressing my naked skin.

  When I saw him wearing that sweater, he was nothing but an enchanting stranger. A man who seemed to understand me, who could give me what I wanted. A dirty little secret, even. A sexy stranger who promised to enrich my otherwise dull life.

  I close my eyes for a moment, taking in his scent and hugging myself, imagining I was in his strong embrace.

  I had no idea. All I could see was the excitement that came with him, but not the danger. Everyone would warn a woman about doing what I did, meeting an intrusive stranger out on the lake, all by myself, on his boat, without telling anyone about it. How could I be so stupid?

  And why am I still here? He is gone. I am on the loose, and instead of taking the chance to run away, I am standing in his closet, smelling and wearing his clothes.

  “What is wrong with me?” I hear myself whisper.

  I take off the sweater, put it back on the shelf and scan the closet one last time to see whether I might find my bag in it, but it is nowhere to be seen. The bathrobe is still all that I have to cover myself up. I sigh when I put it back on.

  My search continues, but much to my disappointment, the bedroom does not give away any secret. I even check the drawers of the desk and the nightstands to see whether I can find a key to the mysterious chest but find nothing.

  My investigation remains futile throughout the entire house. Most of the rooms are empty or hardly used. I know that he hasn’t been living here for too long, but judging by how uninhabited the place is, one could think that he is just passing through. Most of the furniture probably came with the house.

  Except for that chest.

  I finish my search on the second floor and continue downstairs to the first. The longer I look around, the more I am convinced that my belongings must be in that chest in his bedroom—if what he said is true and they are still in the house. The chest is the only thing that is locked.

  I find myself standing in his kitchen. This is the first room that shows some signs of life. As I go through the numerous cabinets, I find plenty of spices, fixings, and fresh food. The giant fridge is filled with ingredients and healthy drinks, very atypical for a bachelor like him. On the counter in the middle of the kitchen is a big bowl with fresh fruit, apples, pears, mangos, and even some exotic dragon fruit, all of which have been side dishes for my breakfast.

  I cannot help but smile at the thought of him standing here, with an apron around his muscular waist, preparing food for me. But from the looks of it, that is exactly what’s happening. Unless he has a cook who comes to the house every day without me knowing. However, that would be risky. I don’t know how sound proof this house room is, but Leonard would have to fear that I would start screaming for help. Somehow, I cannot imagine him letting anyone else inside the house as long as I am here.

  I stare out the sizable glass door that leads out to a deserted terrace. It is gray and cold outside, and I don’t even have shoes to wear. I undertake an unmotivated attempt at opening the terrace door. It is locked, and I don’t seem to find a way to open it.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  This doesn’t work, but I am sure I would find a way out of this house if I really tried to find one. However, the problem I see myself faced with is what would follow afterward. I would be outside, yes. I would be free. But I would still be pretty much naked, shoeless, with ruffled hair and smeared makeup and absolutely no belongings. No phone, no money. Just due for a lot of explanations.

  In my mind, I see myself running up to the road, waving at the first car that comes by, welcomed by a distraught face and confused suburban rich man or woman, possibly an acquaintance of my family—and then I would have to explain everything. I would have to tell them what has happened, how it happened. Everything.

  I feel sick just thinking about it. I can see my family blaming me for all of it. They would be confirmed in everything they have ever thought about me. I’m a troublemaker, selfish, irresponsible—and a pervert with a twisted mind. It was just a matter of time until something like this would happen to me.

  And what would happen to Leonard? I would never see him again—that’s for sure. He would either make a run for it or get arrested. It would destroy him.

  I don’t want that.

  Why do I not want that?

  Now, I am the one who is clenching her fist, standing in his kitchen, cursing the fact that he put me in this situation. I’m angry at him, for all of it. For seducing me, for taking me as his captive, and for leaving me here like this.

  He must have done it deliberately. That bastard is testing me. He must be.

  Does he really think I will stay here like a dumb lamb?

  Well, it looks like I am.

  I cannot go, not yet. Too many questions would remain unanswered, and I cannot ignore the fact that I'm attracted to him, that I want him. I want to understand him. Right now, the thought of running out there scares me more than facing him upon his return.

  If this is a test, fine, he shall have his confrontation.

  Chapter 3

  LEONARD

  I stare at her for far too long. How is this possible? What the fuck is she doing outside of her room?

  She looks up at me, raising her chin defiantly and waiting for a reply.

  “What are you doing down here?” I ask, feeling like an idiot.

  I try to avoid situations like this with tooth and nail. Unpleasant surprises, situations that are out of my control. There were a lot of things I was prepared for tonight. I was prepared for her to hate me, to scream at me, to cry, to fight, to be her sassy little self, testing and challenging me as she has from the very first moment.

  But no part of me expected Liz to be outside of her room. How could this happen?

  She doesn’t move; she just stands there, looking like a tired but strong fairy, her arms falling down at the side of her delicate body.


  She frowns at me.

  “What? Are you surprised to see me?” she asks in a snippy tone.

  “I am,” I say, closing the door behind me and approaching her in calm, determined steps. “How did you get down here?”

  She backs off when I come close to her, and I grab her upper arm in a sudden and quick motion that she did not expect, judging from the way she looks at me. She gasps in surprise and squints her eyes when I squeeze her arm in a tight grip.

  “Are you kidding me?” she asks, now looking back up at me through narrow eyes.

  I pull her closer to me. She struggles not to fall over and glares up at me.

  “I am not kidding you,” I hiss. “And I asked you a question. How did you get down here?”

  She stares at me, trying to read my eyes. I don’t know if she is just plain scared or confused. She seems to think that I should have expected her out of her room.

  But I haven’t. Not at all.

  “You left the door unlocked,” she whispers. “You left it open to test me, didn’t you?”

  I try to hide my surprise at her statement.

  I left the door unlocked? How the hell is that possible? How could I be so fucking careless? That’s not me. I would never forget to lock her door, especially when she is not in her restraints.

  “Don’t lie to me!” I yell at her.

  She flinches as if I beat her. A beautiful sight if it wasn’t for her gesture of defense. I see her other arm rise for just a moment as if she was trying to fend off an upcoming strike. She squints her eyes and lowers her head.

  It’s disgusting. There is nothing pleasurable about the way she is reacting to me right now.

  I loosen my grip around her arm just the slightest bit, and I can feel her relax instantly.

  Liz opens her eyes and looks up at me.

  “I am not lying,” she whispers. “The door was unlocked.”

  Now, she seems to be just as confused as I am.

  “You did not do this on purpose?” she asks. Unlike me, she doesn’t even try to hide her surprise at that realization. She looks at me with wide eyes, waiting for an explanation.

  Instead of giving her one, I wrap my arms around her and pick her up. She yelps in surprise.

  “Hey!” she protests. “Why are you-”

  “Shut up!” I interrupt her.

  I hold her tight and make my way to the staircase. She remains quiet for a few moments until she realizes where we are headed.

  “No!” she yells. “Don’t bring me back up there! I thought we could-”

  “Shut up!” I repeat.

  She starts struggling in my arms, trying to free herself from my strong grip, but her efforts are futile. I hurry up the stairs as fast as possible. She doesn’t weigh much in my arms, but she is rather tall, and her long limbs are not easy to handle once she starts fighting and squirming like a rebellious child.

  “No!” she yells again when we reach the third floor and approach the door to her room. Her resistance becomes stronger with every step. “No, Leonard, please! Listen to me!”

  I ignore her pleas and struggling, but when I put her down on her feet, one arm still wrapped around her while I use the other to open the door, she turns within my grip and sinks her teeth into my upper arm. She doesn’t dare to put all of her strength into it at first, but when I continue to ignore her, she bites harder.

  I open the door and drag her into the room while she holds on to my upper arm with her teeth, lashing out and kicking as good as she can while I pull her over to the bed.

  She is going to pay for this.

  The pain in my arm increases, but it is nothing compared to what she will have to endure if she doesn’t stop this.

  “You better let go,” I warn her, remaining as calm as possible while shaking my arm in an attempt to get rid of her. But she stays attached to me like a damn leech.

  “Liz, you’re going to regret this!”

  She kicks me instead of letting go.

  That’s it.

  I reach over with my free hand and close it around her neck. She groans in pain, and her bite weakens immediately. Both of us freeze. I am not choking her yet, my grip around her neck is nothing but a mere threat so far, but she understands.

  “I’m not going to say it again,” I hiss. “Let go. Now. Or you’re going to regret it.”

  She hesitates for a moment and freezes. Her mind is racing, and I can feel the intensity of her bite lower bit by bit. Liz whimpers in defeat when she finally lets go of my arm.

  “Good girl,” I manage to say, even though it doesn’t feel right.

  As soon as she removes her teeth from my upper arm, I grab her by the shoulders and push her down on the bed. I pin her down by placing myself above her, pushing her arms into the sheets with my knees while I reach over for the leash. Her eyes widen in terror when I attach it to her collar, and she starts struggling beneath me.

  “No!” she screams again, now with tears running down her cheeks. “Please, Leonard-”

  “That is not how you are to address me!” I remind her.

  She stares up at me, her arms still pinned down on the bed, her delicate body suffocated by me. She doesn’t move an inch, and I’m pretty sure she couldn’t even if she wanted to. I release some of the pressure on her by lifting myself up and keeping her arms in place with mine instead of pushing them down with my knees. Our eyes remain fixated on each other the whole time; hers still show that intense, blue-green depth I have gotten addicted to. They are hauntingly beautiful, easy to get lost in, especially when they are glistening with tears as they are now.

  She pants heavily, staring at me in silence.

  Then, she starts sobbing.

  “I should have run,” she weeps. “I should have run!”

  Maybe she should have. I still don’t understand how it was possible for her door to be unlocked, but I believe her when she says it was.

  My grip on her arms tightens as I feel the anger rising inside of me. This has never happened to me before. This foolish carelessness. It’s not me. It was bad enough for me to not attach her leash. She made me do that—she begged me to let her roam free inside her room, and what do I do? Not only did I let myself be seduced by her, but I also marched out that door without locking it.

  Only a careless idiot would act this way. Not me.

  “You little witch,” I hiss at her.

  She looks up at me through teary eyes, only interrupting her sobbing for a moment to see whether I follow up with an explanation for my insult.

  “Don’t play innocent with me!” I add, and the confusion in her gaze increases. My voice is louder than intended, a deep roar like that of a lion.

  She looks up at me like a young child that has just received its first beating by a parent. Scared, confused, betrayed. Quiet. That fucking silent fright.

  “Stop it!” I yell at her. “Stop fucking looking at me like that!”

  She ducks beneath my words and squints her eyes, setting free a new river of tears.

  I need to get out. It’s impossible for me to think clear when I am with her. Those eyes, that delicious body, her smell…I can’t take it.

  I jump up from the bed causing her to flinch in fear as if I was about to lash out at her. Her lower lip trembles as she stares up at me, scared, confused, and utterly helpless. I cannot stand to look at her right now and free myself from her sight by turning around and stride towards the door.

  Of course, she does it again.

  “No,” she whispers behind me. “No, Leonard. No…”

  Her voice is thin and shaking. I ignore the ice cold blade that cuts through my chest as I perceive her heart-wrenching pleas.

  The door closes behind me before I can hear any more of it.

  Chapter 4

  LIZ

  I feel so stupid. How on earth could I think that there was an ounce of righteousness in him? What was I thinking?

  Did I expect him to smile at me, invite me for a coffee in his kitchen, an
d have a nice little talk about what is going on between us? Was he supposed to tell me that I passed his test and am now free to go if I want to?

  Just a few minutes ago, I wasn’t even sure if that was what I wanted. To leave.

  I didn’t run away because I didn’t want to lose him. Sure, there were all those unpleasant thoughts about me having to explain this weird predicament I found myself in—by my own mistake—but what really held me back was my attraction to him. Despite all that he has done to me, I am still drawn to him more than I have ever been to anyone else. I cannot forget about the way he makes me feel every time he “trains” me.

  Uses me.

  I want to be used by him, pleasured, teased. I close my eyes in shame as I think about it. Even now while I am still shaken from his aggressive behavior, chained back to this damn hook and locked up in the room I wanted to escape from so badly, I cannot help but feel a warm tingling spread through my core when I think about the things we have done together since I came here.

  I am ashamed and aroused at the same time—and so utterly lonely and disappointed.

  If anything, I thought that he would give me credit for not running away as soon as the opportunity revealed itself. He never asked me why I was still here, why I didn’t run when I could have. All he wanted to know is how I got out of my room.

  He seemed genuinely surprised to see me downstairs. Did he simply forget to lock my door? Was that why he was so angry?

  Why does he not talk to me? His neglect of my questions made me furious. The biting was nothing but a desperate attempt to finally get his attention, to make him listen to me, answer me.

  I want to be more to him than his chained up fucktoy. I want him to see me, talk to me.

  I should have run.

  I’m audibly sobbing while I remain lying on the bed, torn apart by mixed feelings that are wrong, so wrong. He may be watching me through the camera; he probably is, and he might love it. To see me in such despair at his mercy, defeated and too dumb to leave when I could have.