I scrutinize her every move making sure she’s not messing with the food or trying to harm me. All the sharp kitchen utensils have been removed for safety.
“Butter for your toast?” she asks.
I nod watching her bend over to get the butter out of the fridge.
“How should I spread it?” She’s on the hunt for utensils. I’d already thought of taking ones that had the potential to hurt me out of the kitchen.
“Just like your legs,” I joke. She shoots me a dirty look but wipes it away as soon as she realizes it. “Joking,” I say.
She is confused as she looks for the knives.
“No knives,” I say. “I’ll use a fork.”
She sits down beside me, and we eat in silence. The only sound is the clink of our silverware.
Her appetite shows, and she is famished. She even licks her fingers when she’s done.
When I’m finished, I hand her my plate. “You can do the dishes.”
She gets up without complaint. I’m starting to enjoy this exchange—me telling her what to do and her complying. Why hadn’t I tied her up and demanded her loyalty six months ago?
There is silence minus the running water as she rinses the dishes. She’s flustered as she drops a glass on the floor. It is plastic and bounces.
I give her an amused glance. This is a new look for her. I kind of like it, this uncertainty.
I’ve got the power. She’s helpless, and it’s sexy and irritating at the same time. The control I have, the way I can dominate her, turns me on and instantly, my cock hardens.
It’s frustrating because there’s not a shred of the hard-headed, stubborn Levin.
She has to bend down to get it, and I see her dilemma on her face. She is naked, and her ass will be sticking straight up in the air. Once that was natural.
I let out a frustrated sigh.
My tone’s annoyed. “Pick it up.”
She leans over, timid, and struggles to grasp it with her soapy hands.
As she straightens up, I come up behind and grab her ass. She jumps as I squeeze it.
“We need to get in the shower. Big day for us.” At the mention of this, her eyebrows shoot up as she turns to examine me. She’s confused and scared. This is the reaction I want.
The bewildered look gives way to one of complacency. “Are you going to keep me in suspense or tell me?” Her nails are drumming on the kitchen island fidgeting impatiently.
I ponder the question for a moment.
Maybe I could tell her my idea. If she didn’t like it, then we had bigger issues. Better to deal with disappointment sooner rather than later, I suppose.
Nah. I’ll let her sweat the details for a bit.
She searches my face disappointed when I don’t offer more. I put a handcuff on one hand and yank her behind me to the bathroom.
Because I need time to get everything ready, I motion for her to stand next to the towel rack. I snap the cuffs on the long metal bar.
“I’ll be back soon.” I see her panic-stricken face as she wonders where I’m headed.
“Baby,” I gently stroke her face and hair. “We have company coming later. I have to be ready.” Her eyes perk up at the thought of company. She is dying to know more. She might be dying later if she doesn’t get in line, I think.
That’s the problem—she’s always hunting and searching for evidence unable to relax. I could tell by the cameras around the house that she’s looking for something. There’s stilted movements, long pauses, a scrunched look on her face like she forgot what she was looking for.
It’s gotten her into trouble.
This time, it might not be a situation she can talk her way out of.
The reality is, Levin has all the power right now. She’s the beneficiary. She decides—live or die.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Levin
After Alec leaves me chained to the towel rack, I have nothing to do but wait. And overanalyze.
My wrists are already sore from the restraints. I twist and turn trying to get comfortable. The metal bar is cold on my back as I try to bend down and sit, my body hunched over, unable to do anything but shiver. Goosebumps cover my body, and I shudder.
Though I feel overwhelmed, it might not be the worst idea to have some alone time.
I need to formulate a plan of action ASAP.
Is there a landline in the house? Alec must have his cell here.
If so, I can call for help. Though I had only been in a bedroom, bathroom, and the kitchen, I was able to see out the small kitchen window. From my view washing dishes, I could see the house was built into the side of a mountain.
I had no recollection of the drive here, but it couldn’t have been too far. We certainly were not out of Phoenix judging by the mountains. This gave me hope. Maybe I can escape him.
My mind wanders as I think of what the surprise is.
And the guest he mentioned. Was it a former partner? Someone else he wanted dead?
Or worse yet, what if the gray-haired man showed up? That could be his hitman?
It didn't make sense, though. He had no problem getting Heidi and Eric’s blood on his hands when he killed them.
Heidi, he strangled with his bare hands, yet he was never charged because he had an alibi—his mom. I’d ask her about that if I could, but she’s dead.
Did she know and notice quirks as he was growing up that raised suspicions? Or did she coddle him making him think he was the center of attention, that no one mattered but him?
I’d always been curious about his parents’ car accident. He seemed lackadaisical when I asked. I couldn’t tell if it was because he buried the hurt or if he isn’t affected because there’s more to the story.
Yes, he staged the hanging to make it look like Eric had tied the noose around his neck and hung himself in his closet. That was a game prevalent in the gay world—asphyxiating yourself for a sexual high.
I survey the bathroom. This house has no expense spared from what I’ve seen. The kitchen is equipped with Viking appliances, high-end cabinets, and marble countertops. And the bathroom is no exception—the shower alone can hold a small army with its multitude of showerheads and long built-in bench.
The tub is deep and also meant to hold more than one person. Everything is marble and expensive-looking, the colors a soothing blue-gray. For some, this would be the perfect house.
I shake my arms and try and pull the towel rack out of the wall. Bolts hold it firmly into place. My hope that these handcuffs are the cheap play ones used to play cops and robbers as a child are dashed. They’re not.
To my dismay, I realize they probably came from the police or industrial warehouse. There is no getting them off my wrist as evidenced by the bright pink flush creeping across my wrists. They cut into my skin which is already sensitive from the rope marks.
I use my feet as leverage to try to move the rack, and it doesn’t even wriggle.
There is nothing to do but bide my time.
I’m stuck.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alec
After I leave Levin confined to the bathroom, I rush to get everything ready for our ceremony. George has secured a priest and would bring him at 2:00 p.m. I alerted the guard so he would know and there would be fewer distractions.
Her dress is hanging up in another bedroom, and I walk into the room to inspect it. I tried to think of everything but am visibly overwrought by the idea of forgetting an item or trinket.
There’s a bathroom inside this bedroom. I put my hands on the sink and look in the mirror. My face is red, and I’m crumbling under the constant pressure. A permanent scowl resides in the glass.
I take a breath and count to ten. The vows are what matters—that piece of paper that to some people is unimportant, merely a formality.
It’s not in our case.
The promises we make today, in front of the priest, they seal the deal.
They’re all I care about—my financial freedom.
I can feel the stress subside, the tension in my neck eases, and the constant drone in my ears subsides.
How do I communicate to Levin that she will be in a coffin if she doesn’t fall in line?
The items are on the bed—a matching veil, garter, panties, strapless bra, jewel-encrusted heels, and a notepad so she can write her vows.
They need to be heartfelt and sincere—unlike this hiccup. It’s appropriate for us to share some sentiments with each other, especially with all we’ve been through.
A quick walk through the house is necessary. There is only one way in—the massive, iron, double doors in the front. I check that they are locked.
I examine the backyard. It’s pristine—backing up to the mountains, an oasis for one family to enjoy. A patch of grass is near the infinity pool, where we will exchange our vows. A perfect backdrop for a perfect day.
The excitement starts to creep in. We’re about to be married—husband and wife. I smirk as I head back in to get Levin ready for her big day.
She’s in an awkward position with her back against the wall, not quite sitting or standing. I chuckle to myself as I realize it’s probably not the smartest idea to leave her to her own devices. What’s the saying? Idle hands being the devil’s playground?
“Levin.” I tap her on the shoulder. “I want to discuss with you the plans for the day. Are you ready to hear them?”
She nods. She’s naked and judging by the shaking of her body, she’s chilled. I rub her back as I speak.
“To build our trust back, we need a solid foundation.” I push her hair back from her face, the tangled pieces hanging down from her crooked updo. “Levin, this can only be accomplished by one thing.” My jaw tenses as I speak. “We’re getting married today. Time to be man and wife.”
She’s in shock. She just stares at me, her eyes wide. “Where are we getting married?” Her voice is barely audible.
“Here. A priest is coming.”
“But I don’t have a dress.”
“I took care of it. I took care of everything.” I grab the key out of my pocket and start to unlock the handcuffs. She slides down the wall with a loud sigh until she’s in a seated position, arms curled around her legs. I join her on the marble tile, putting a hand on her knee.
She considers this and slowly, a grin creeps across her face. “We’ve always wanted to get married. Now we can just do it and not worry about all the planning.”
She scoots closer to me. “Did you remember my ring?”
“I did.” I grin. I like where her head is at. I thought I would have to warm her up to the idea. I didn’t want her to be black and blue for the wedding pictures, but I would do what I had to do.
“Can we start trying, you know, tonight?”
My heart melts when she says this. I had planned on doing that, regardless if she was into the idea or not. Forcibly taking my wife isn’t beneath me, especially when she belongs to me and my business longevity is at stake.
I’m enthusiastic, my face beaming. She’s going to give me an heir. I cross my fingers for a boy.
“Of course, doll.” I touch her leg and caress it. She doesn’t shy away from my touch.
“Let’s take a shower and get ready.” Her wrists are red, both from the burn marks from the rope and the cold metal. I grab them and glance at her.
“I’m sorry about the accident last night.” I lie. “Hopefully you can mask it.”
She smiles, but it’s forced. It doesn’t reach her face.
I hold tight to her guiding her by the neck as we enter the shower. She immediately sits down on the bench as I hand her a razor to shave and shampoo and conditioner to wash her hair. I busy myself with lathering my body and start humming a tune trying to force the noise in my ears to die down.
“What should our wedding song be?” I pause mid-thought. She’s soaping her body, and she stops as she thinks about it.
She gives me a peck on the cheek. “I know you know the perfect song, you organized this entire thing. It’s only fair you pick.”
“You’re right, I’ve got it.” I’m animated as I speak. ‘Undying Love’ by Eddie Cochran. It was an old song, but the lines about eternity and unrequited love were fitting. I start singing the words to her.
She tilts her head to listen massaging her temples. She’s quiet for a moment and then gives me a tight smile. “I think it’s perfect. It fits us to a T.”
I help her wash her hair, her arms fatigued from the length of time she was in bondage.
It’s finally happening.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Levin
When he proposed marriage to me the first time, I was shocked—thrown off guard.
When he proposed marriage to me this time, I was stunned.
Though there’s the requisite part about ‘until death do us part,’ that might be sooner rather than later in my case.
I take my time shaving as my arms are sore. My hand shakes as I try to guide the razor over my stubble. This is the last task I want to do at this moment.
My eyes feel heavy, the lids burning. I’m unsure if it’s the need to cry or what he used to wipe me out last night—chloroform—I assume.
He waits for me to finish, albeit impatiently. He’s on cloud nine whistling and singing. He grabs a plush towel off the rack and starts drying me, furiously rubbing me with the soft material. He hands me some lotion, and I rub it on my body as he casts his eyes over me—head to toe.
“Is there someone coming to do my hair and makeup?” I try to sound excited like this is going to be the best day of my life.
He searches my face to see if I’m genuine, decides I am, and offers, “There’s a bathroom off the room where your dress and wedding items are. You can get ready in there.”
“May I have my purse, please?” I rush to get the words out. “My favorite lipstick is in there.”
“I’ll go get it. You stay put.” He walks off closing the bathroom door behind me, still whistling.
This is my shot. I have to escape.
I don’t know the layout of the house, but I know where the front door is. I had to pass it to get to the kitchen earlier.
If I upset him now, he will probably kill me.
But it’s worth the risk. I’m a caged bird.
I make a run for it.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alec
I go into the study and find Levin’s purse. I unzip it, and the Burberry checked plaid is barely visible underneath the plethora of items she’s acquired. I could never understand why women needed to carry their entire wardrobe in their purse. It must weigh fifteen pounds.
I see a flash of brunette hair outside the door to the study, and I drop the purse and run. The contents spill out, and I trip over her makeup bag, smashing a compact mirror in the process.
Fuck, Levin’s making a run for it.
She’s erratic, her eyes delirious. She looks like a crazed lunatic trying to escape from a mental institution.
I’ll let her hopes rise for a moment.
This place is like a prison on lockdown.
I shake my head. Levin, Levin, Levin. You should know better.
I’m ruthless in business, revengeful in love. I’d never let her parade out of here, at least not living.
The Taser I seized is in another room.
She is at the door fumbling with the lock.
How can she be so stupid as to think the door won’t be padlocked?
Obviously, she doesn’t think highly of me.
I’m hurt, the ire rising as I think of her pretending to want me. My entire life, everyone’s been fake, concealing how they feel about me.
Counterfeits. I grip the door frame, the room spinning, a tune echoing in my ear on repeat. It’s our wedding story.
I imagine Heidi’s face. Then Eric’s. They illuminate in front of me, their final expressions a reminder of their fate.
I reach out and spin her around slapping the shit out of her. She claws at my face
, scratching me.
“You fucking bitch.” I’m irate as I snicker. “You’re dead.”
“No,” she’s kicking out her feet as I’m grabbing onto her. She’s hysterical, and it’s incoherent, the words coming out of her mouth. All I know is that I’m seeing red, my blood on fire.
I punch her in the face, my fist connects with her jaw and knocks her out. She goes limp and falls to the floor. I don’t want her to smash her body on the marble tile, so I catch her before she goes down.
She’s bleeding, her lip is a bloody mess.
Her dead weight is a struggle to hold, so I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom with all the wedding items. I lay her down on the comforter sliding the items over to the other side of the bed. I place a towel under her face not wanting her to bloody the damask comforter.
The only person to blame is her. She’s ruined our special day.
I leave the room to get a rag, soak it in chloroform and shove it down her throat again. She is breathing, but it’s shallow and ragged.
With that, I turn and exit the room, locking the door behind me.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Levin
When I come to, I am once again tied to a bed, this time, a queen size instead of a king in a different room.
The room isn’t pitch black, but the furnishings are ornate and hideous like my fiancé. The bedspread has gold tassels, rose-colored flowers spraying across the heavy, draped fabric, and looks like it belonged to Queen Anne, the beheaded one.
I’m no longer naked. There’s fabric covering my skin instead of a robe, I’m shrouded in none other than a wedding dress.
A wedding dress.
There’s a gasp and a bloodcurdling scream as I realize I’m about to be the bride of Chucky.
No words come out as tape binds my mouth.
I am terror-stricken, my breathing shallow, and hives start to form on my skin.
Because You're Mine_Psychological Thriller Page 14
