by Linnea May
In me, he saw the heir to the family’s business. He saw the person that my father failed to be.
Ruby’s eyes were glued to me every time I talked to her about those things. Her interest is so sincere that, for the first time, I understood what people meant when they said someone “touched their heart”. She certainly has that effect on me.
This morning is not the first time for me to wake up next to her. Another rule I broke. I’ve spent the night with her more than once. I fell asleep next to her a few days ago, after fucking her for hours, and neither of us woke up until the next morning. So what, I thought. An accident. It won’t happen again.
But it did. And then it became a deliberate choice, making it all the worse.
She’s still asleep now, her face covered by her dark ash blonde mane, her lips partly opened as she lies curled up next to me.
I place a kiss on her cheek, tugging on the collar to see if she’s awake. She groans a sweet little complaint, her naked body squirming around in the sheets.
“Time to get up, my pet,” I whisper. “You’ll get a spanking if you’re not up within five minutes.”
“Ten,” she sighs. “Ten, please, Master. I’m so tired.”
Her voice is low, her mind barely awake yet.
“Five,” I insist, giving her another kiss before I crawl out of the bed I never should have slept in.
She’s not your fucking girlfriend, and she never will be.
It seems I can repeat this mantra as often as I wish, but it won’t change the way I act around her. Even the marks on her skin can’t belie the fact that I’ve fallen for her way more than a john should fall for his whore.
Eighteen more days. That’s how much longer I can pretend that none of my self-imposed rules exist, and do whatever I want with her. That’s how long she’ll still be mine. After that, it has to stop, all of it.
“Five minutes,” I repeat. “Or you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
She growls, but catches herself just in time.
“Yes, Master,” I hear her weak voice from beneath the sheets.
I pull myself away from her and leave the room to head downstairs. Nothing has changed in regard to where she’s allowed to be in the house. She’s never to leave her room, unless I bring her downstairs to have a meal together, but I always bring her back up to her room right after. She has never seen my bedroom, my office, or any other room in the house. At least that’s a distance I manage to maintain.
I’m just about to start the coffee machine when my phone rings. This happens so rarely that the sound startles me, and I almost let the carafe fall to the floor. Who on Earth would call me on a Saturday morning?
The first people that come to mind are my grandparents. Did something happen to one of them? It’s not Sunday. It’s not their day to call.
My heart is racing when I head over to the phone, and I’m flooded with relief when I see that it’s not their number on the screen.
But the relief is soon replaced with bewildered anger.
It’s the agency.
Chapter 40
Liana
Three weeks. It’s been three weeks since he grabbed me off the street, removing me from a life I had come to loathe.
By now, people must be looking for me. I haven’t had access to the internet or a TV during the last twenty-one days. But I bet I would see my picture on the local news.
I wonder if Luke had been questioned as a suspect? Kidnapped or killed by the ex-boyfriend, that would be such a classic, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was one of the first to be questioned after it became apparent that I was missing.
How long did it take for anyone to notice? The Monday after my disappearance? Wednesday? Maybe even an entire week? No, I don’t believe it would take them that long. I’ve always been very reliable, an exemplary employee who never skipped work or even took sick leave. I’ve always shown up at work when I was expected to, always. And if not, I would have called in before anyone even knew that I wasn’t there.
But who knows how things are now that Professor Miller is gone? It may have taken them a few days to start worrying about me because everyone is too preoccupied with his death. Or they might have thought that I’m overwhelmed by grief and thus unable to show up for work or to call in sick?
My mind has been too preoccupied with what has been happening between me and Joseph to drift away to all the things I left behind. But once in a while, when I’m by myself and not too exhausted or too dazed by a play session, I find myself faced with the reality of what I left behind. The insecurity of unemployment, the grief of losing the nicest boss I could ever ask for, and the pain of a broken relationship. None of that matters here, in this house, in this bedroom.
All that matters is us. Joseph and me.
We have talked a lot during the past week, but I can’t talk about these things with him. I can’t talk about a job he doesn’t know I had because he thinks that I’m a full-time prostitute. I tried to talk about Luke, but it felt wrong, and he cut me short anyway. It must have been the most awkward conversation we’ve ever had. He seemed to be in agony when I talked about Luke, about the things he said about my sexual desires, about what he did to me to finally make me realize that I needed to kick him out of my life.
I let out a deep sigh and turn off the water in the shower. He will be back soon to bring me downstairs for breakfast, and I need to be dressed and ready.
Each day with him is similar, and yet so different that I can never know what to expect. All I know is that it will entail a lot of pleasure, sometimes pain, sometimes a training session so hard that it makes me question my decision to stay here of my own free will. I can see the effects of his training in the way my body reacts to him. Just the sound of his voice, a look on his face or the most trivial touch can cause my core to throb with desire. I’m often wet before he even touches me. I’ve grown dependent on him, and that unsettles me.
And I’m getting addicted to all of it. To him especially. I feel like I will never have enough.
That’s what scares me the most.
Because I know that all of this will come to an end. He will let me go eventually. I don’t know when it will happen, but I know it will.
He thinks I’m a prostitute who’s just doing this because he’s paying her to. No matter how close I may feel to him, how intimate our time together has become. None of this is real for him, and he’s probably done it before, probably many times. He keeps saying that I enjoy special privileges, but he may say such things to all the girls.
I shake my head, chasing away uncomfortable truths. All those things are future Liana problems. She’ll be able to deal with it.
All I have to focus on is today, and I don’t have much time left to get ready before he shows up for breakfast.
I’ve just stepped out of the shower and in the process of drying myself off, when I can hear footsteps outside in the hall.
Oh my God, he’s back already!
I hurry to wrap the towel around myself and scurry out of the bathroom, falling to my knees in the bedroom just as he opens the door.
Something is off, I can tell right away. The way he swings the door open, the way he’s breathing so erratically.
I lift my eyes up to him, confused at his exasperated behavior.
My breath catches when I see his face. His cheeks are blazing red, his hair messed up as if he’s ruffled through his black strands a few times frantically, and he’s panting like he’s in a panic. I barely recognize him. He has never looked like this. Horrified, confused, and angry, all at once. Something must be terribly wrong.
Our eyes lock on each other as he freezes a few feet away from me. I’m sitting on the floor, positioned the way I was trained to sit, with my palms on my thighs and sitting back on my heels.
I want to ask him what it is. I want to know what’s wrong.
But I can’t find my voice. His troubled hazel eyes speak of too much terror.
I don’t dare ask b
ecause I’m scared of the answer.
Chapter 41
Joseph
Why the fuck would they call me? That has never happened before - because it’s not supposed to happen. Everything is clearly stated in the contract. There’s to be absolutely no contact between the agency and me, or the agency and her.
Unless there’s an emergency.
But how could there be an emergency? Everything is going perfect, almost too perfect, with Ruby.
For a moment, I consider not picking up because this must clearly be a mistake. But not picking up would be another breach. I’ve agreed to answering if they try to reach me, no matter what. I have to pick up.
“Yes,” I say, sounding as irritated as I am.
“Mr. Bennett?” a female voice at the other end asks.
It’s Lisa, the woman who handles the ‘contacts,’ as they call them. She has been my contact person for every part of this transaction.
“Yes, of course it’s me,” I bark at her.
“This is Lisa speaking, from Violent Delights-”
“I know,” I interrupt her. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling me?”
Lisa clears her throat, letting precious seconds pass before she replies.
“Mr. Bennett, I’m surprised we didn’t hear back from you already,” she says. “We were just contacted by Miss Ruby Red, and she said she was never picked up. I don’t know why she waited this long to inform us, but I’m even more surprised you never let us know that the arrangement was off?”
Her words knocked every wisp of air from my lungs. I stand motionless, not even breathing, as my blood runs cold through my veins and the words bounce back and forth in my skull.
They were contacted by a woman named Ruby Red.
The woman I bought to play my slave. The woman who’s supposed to be upstairs right now, waiting for my return.
And she said she’s never been picked up.
“Mr. Bennett?”
“Are you… are you sure?” I stutter, my voice cracking on every word.
Lisa appears to be startled by my question.
“Yes, she came to the agency herself and said her time window passed without being picked up,” she says. “She’s asking for compensation because of the stress and the inconvenience.”
I can’t reply. I feel as if a clamp is closing around my chest, stealing my breath and robbing me of my ability to speak. My face is stuck in an incredulous expression with an unblinking stare as my brain desperately scrambles to make sense of this.
“Did something come up?” Lisa asks, breaking into my stunned stupor. “How come you never contacted us? Is something wrong?”
She clears her throat, pausing for a moment before she continues speaking.
“Mr. Bennett, if there’s anything wrong with Miss Red, you’ll have to tell us. Is she telling the truth? Did something about her not please you? If so, why didn’t you let us know?”
I’m still rendered speechless, my mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish with no sound coming out, as I try to gather myself. I fail to comprehend what’s happening, managing only a stunned shake of my head as the woman on the other end of the line starts losing her patience.
“Mr. Bennett?” she presses. “Are you still with me?”
I have to say something. Something.
My first instinct is to tell her that this must be a mistake because there is a Ruby Red in my house right now, and she has been here for the past three weeks, just as agreed upon.
Everything is fine.
Everything is fucking fine.
Except that it’s not.
“Mr. Bennett, I-”
“Yes, it’s fine,” I croak. “It’s… something came up. Family emergency. I’m sorry, I was too preoccupied to contact the agency.”
“Oh, I see,” Lisa says. She’s not sounding convinced, but if there’s one thing these guys are good at, it’s discretion.
“Pay the girl the compensation,” I tell her.
“Okay, thank you, Mr. Bennett,” she says. “I’ll get things sorted with her. Please, could you let us know next time? I know how stressful things like this can be, but we’re working in a very delicate business here. With very delicate subjects.”
I roll my eyes, unbeknownst to her.
“Yes, I’m sorry for the trouble,” I tell her. “But I have one question. This Ruby girl, did she do what she was told to, during the days when her window was open?”
“According to her, she did,” Lisa tells me. “She’s been out and about, wearing everything that she was asked to.”
I had just been able to breathe again, when her words take the air out of my lungs anew.
Ruby, or whoever she is, didn’t wear any of the things I asked. She didn’t wear stockings under her skirt, and she didn’t understand why I got so mad at her in the beginning. She didn’t follow the most mundane commands, and she looked at me with a terror that looked so real it was bone-chilling.
It looked real, because it was real.
I made a mistake. I kidnapped the wrong woman.
How could this fucking happen?
“Oh, but she did mention something,” Lisa interrupts my distressed stream of thoughts. “Her red coat was stolen one night. I believe it was meant to be her token?”
Yes.
That fucking coat.
I’d watched her run around in that coat for days, I watched her enter a bar wearing that same coat, and I watched her come out of that same bar in that very same coat.
Or so I thought.
“It was stolen in a bar?” I ask.
“Yes, I think that’s what she said,” Lisa says, sounding surprised. “How did you-?”
“Just a guess,” I hurry to say. “Listen. I have business to attend. Will you handle Miss Ruby and let her know I’m very sorry for the trouble?”
“Yes, sure,” she replies. “So, I shouldn’t file for a new arrangement?”
“No, not at this moment,” I tell her. “Goodbye.”
I don’t wait for her final words before I end the call and throw the damn phone across the room. The noise as it hits the floor echoes through the hall, piercing through my head like a thousand knives.
My chest is still tight, a cold wrath of panic closing in on me as I try to gather together the pieces of this fucked-up mix-up.
She’s not Ruby Red. She even fucking told me, she’s not her.
“Do you think I’m Ruby?” she said. “Because I’m not.”
But I was too occupied to listen, too certain, too immersed in the game. Just like her when she first got here, I’m overwhelmed with questions – the most salient one banging against my skull with urgent precedence.
If the girl upstairs is not Ruby Red, then who the hell is she?
Chapter 42
Liana
“You stole that coat,” he says, pointing a trembling finger at me.
My heart stops in shock.
He knows.
I don’t know what happened after he left my room. I don’t know what or who tipped him off. But I know that he knows.
He knows I’m not the woman he thought I was.
I stare up at him, my mouth partly opening as I try to come up with a reply, but the words escape me.
“You stole that red fur coat,” he repeats, putting emphasis on every word. “Didn’t you?”
“You’re scaring me, Master-”
“Tell me!” he interrupts me.
I hurry to nod. “Yes, I did.”
His face changes again, now displaying the despair of someone who just lost something valuable forever.
“You’re not Ruby Red,” he whispers.
It’s not a question, but a statement. Yet I reply by shaking my head.
“I’m not,” I whisper.
He’s struggling for breath, and throwing his arms up in the air.
“I fucked up,” he gasps, short of breath. “I so fucking fucked up.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just remain in m
y spot, my fists clenching around the towel that I have wrapped around my body.
“My name is Liana,” I say in a low voice. “I told you.”
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuck!”
I flinch when he raises his arms again, but he only does it to ruffle through his wild hair, holding his head with his hands as he stalks, pacing back and forth through the room.
“Fuck!” he continues cursing. “This is not fucking happening!”
He’s so loud and so wildly distraught that I’m scared of him for the first time in weeks. I want to move out of his range, but I don’t even dare get up on my feet.
Suddenly, he stops mid-motion, freezing for a moment, before he turns back to me, looking at me with worry painted across his face that is unlike anything I’ve seen on him before.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says. “I made a mistake. I fucked up so badly.”
He approaches me, going down on his knees in front of me, so we’re almost on eye level as his gaze fixates on mine.
“I thought you were someone else,” he explains. “A woman named Ruby Red. I… hired her to do all of this. To role play with me.”
I bite my lower lip. Well, there you go. I was right.
“She… you were wearing that coat,” he adds, gesturing over to the hideous fur coat that’s hanging over the end of the bed. “That was the token that helped me recognize her. That coat. You had that coat, and the business card, and-”
“I know,” I interrupt him. “I know.”
He halts, staring at me with eyes widened in surprise.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I… I know what happened,” I utter. “I mean, I didn’t know at first, but I’ve known now for a while. I figured it out.”
