Heartless Prince: A Dark Captive Romance (Dark Dynasty Book 1)

by Stella Hart

  She shook her head. “I… I can’t. I know it’s my fault he died, but I swear, I didn’t mean to make it happen. I didn’t push him. Please, you have to believe me, M-Master…”

  I stiffened, my eyes narrowing. Just when I thought I’d made some progress with her, we were back at square one. She was still lying right to my fucking face.

  How dare she?

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself and get my head centered. I knew from the start that this wouldn’t be a quick and easy process. It would take more than a whipping to make Tatum tell the truth.

  A tear slipped down one of her cheeks as she stared up at me. I frowned, my thoughts veering off in another direction.

  Maybe she genuinely believed she was innocent. Maybe she’d been traumatized by the horror of what she did and blocked it out, unable to process or cope with the guilt. But somewhere, locked away deep inside her mind, there must be the knowledge that she was fully responsible. Why else would she give in to me so easily? Why else would she beg for more punishment?

  “Okay. We’re done for tonight,” I said stiffly. “Go to bed, Doll. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Tomorrow?” she asked, eyes widening. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was hopeful. She actually wanted to see me again.

  Something flared brightly in my mind. An idea. A good one, too.

  I smiled patiently. “Yes, Doll. Tomorrow.”

  She nodded and crawled into bed. I brought the blanket over her, keeping the fake smile plastered on my face as I tucked her in.

  The other day, she told me that I could never truly own someone who hated me, and now I realized she was right about that. I couldn’t. I also realized I could never completely and utterly destroy something I didn’t fully own. Not properly.

  As long as I was cruel and malicious toward Tatum, she would continue to hate me, even if she outwardly gave in and obeyed me. Even if she physically desired me. She would continue to hold out on the inside, never letting go in her mind, never truly submitting to my ownership.

  But if I changed tactics and stopped her from hating me, I could make her let go. Make her submit. Mind, body and soul. If I managed that, I could conquer her and truly own her. Then I could finally enact my revenge and destroy her with cold and deadly precision, making her regret every second of her existence.

  There was only one way to achieve that. Only one way to make her stop hating me. I had to throw all my plans out the window and head in the opposite direction.

  I had to make her fall in love with me.

  15

  Tatum

  I woke up in a cold sweat of shame and regret. Oh, god. It was happening again…

  I tried to stay strong last night, tried to resist Elias and all his dark lures, but he’d broken me down once again. He made me beg for the whip, made me beg for punishment, made me admit that I needed it. That wasn’t the worst part, though.

  The worst part was that I loved it.

  I wanted more. I craved it, thirsted for it, needed it.

  I’d often fantasized about this sort of scenario in the past, wondered what it would be like to have someone dominate me and control me, but I never thought I’d actually enjoy it in real life. Especially against my will. Yet here I was, plunging headfirst into the darkness whenever Elias so much as issued the smallest command.

  I’d officially lost my mind.

  “Good morning, Doll,” said a soft voice from my right.

  I rolled over, my eyes wide with surprise. Speak of the devil… Elias was right here in my cell.

  “Are you here to take me to the gym?” I asked. Usually a guard arrived each morning to escort me upstairs for exercise and a shower, but no one had come to get me yet.

  “No gym today. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Only Elias King could make the word ‘surprise’ sound ominous. My heart began to race and tremors shook my hands. “A surprise?” I said in a low, terrified murmur.

  He smiled. “Relax. This isn’t some sort of punishment. I….” He paused for a second, emotion flashing in his usually-cold eyes. “I think I may have been a little rough with you last night. You might belong to me, but that doesn’t mean I should abuse you beyond your limits. I should care for my belongings. I’m going to make it up to you today.”

  I gaped at him, pure shock reverberating through my system. Surely this was some sort of cruel game. He didn’t really want to make anything up to me. No way. He loved the idea of hurting and abusing me. He thought I killed his best friend, after all.

  Besides, last night didn’t go beyond any limits for me… did it?

  Or maybe it did.

  Maybe this place had driven me so crazy that I couldn’t tell anymore. Maybe I didn’t really love or crave the pain of that whip, or the black leather tendrils trailing over my skin, teasing and tormenting me. Maybe I was simply succumbing to some sort of Stockholm syndrome where my brain tried to convince itself that it loved the treatment as a coping mechanism.

  Elias frowned at my shocked expression. “Get up. I promise this isn’t some sort of joke. I want us to have a good day today, so please don’t make it difficult.”

  “Um. Okay.” I stood up and tentatively stepped over to him. Then I realized I’d once again forgotten to call him Master. I reflexively cowered away, thinking he might suddenly lash out at me. “Sorry, Master. I keep… I keep forgetting.”

  He simply smiled again and placed a firm hand on my left shoulder. “Calm down, Doll. It’s okay. I understand this is still very new and raw for you. I’ve been far too hard on you, and I regret that. It’ll take time for you to remember the rules, so I’m going to be more lenient from now on. Got it?”

  I stared at him again, my eyes wide. This had to be a dream. Why else would he suddenly change his mind about the way he wanted to treat me? It didn’t make any sense… unless he genuinely felt bad for the way he’d acted toward me so far.

  Perhaps underneath those cold eyes and arrogant features, Elias King actually had a soul.

  “Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why now?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I’m not too proud to admit when I’m wrong, and I think my behavior last night was definitely that. I stayed awake all night thinking about it. I took it too far, and I hurt you.”

  I felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to comfort him and tell him it was fine, tell him I wasn’t hurt badly. I even liked it. But then the rational part of my brain whispered ‘Stockholm syndrome,’ at me, and I kept my mouth shut.

  I had no idea what was right. No idea what to think. No idea what to feel.

  I was going crazier and crazier with each minute that passed in this place.

  I let Elias lead me out of my cell naked. I didn’t care if anyone else saw me like this anymore. I was past the point of feeling shame over my body. Besides, the daily exercise and bland food over the weeks had been good for me. As awful as it sounded, my figure had never looked better. I noticed it yesterday when Mellie was helping me change into the gorgeous purple gown.

  Elias took me to the first floor and led me into an enormous room with large curtained windows. A third of the room had been sectioned off into a large open-plan bathroom with white and black marble-tiled flooring and a large claw-footed bathtub.

  The main section of the room had polished parquet flooring, most of which was covered by a gigantic patterned Persian rug, and a large portion of the space was taken up by a huge four-poster canopy bed. To the left of it was a hanging mirror beside a marble-topped marquetry chest. On the right was an antique French love seat. The walls were pale mint green with molded paneling, and a large crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling.

  It was old-fashioned but beautiful all the same.

  Steam was rising from the bathtub along with a heavenly scent. Elias pointed to it. “I drew you a bath. Get in,” he commanded.

  I faltered. My back and chest were still lined with angry red welts from last night, and I knew getting into
a hot tub of water would make them sting like hell. “Eli… I mean, Master, I’m not sure I can,” I said, motioning to one of the welts. “It’ll hurt.”

  “It won’t. I promise. Do you trust me?” he said, extending one hand to me.

  I swallowed hard. Did I really have a choice?

  I took his hand and let him guide me into the tub, sinking slowly into the bubbling water. Amazingly, he was right. The bath was filled with some sort of salts which immediately relaxed my muscles and had a strange cooling effect on my whip-marks, even though the water was hot.

  Elias sat on the edge of the tub and watched me relax in the bath.

  “Mmm…” I couldn’t help letting out a satisfied moan.

  His lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. “See? It’s a special sort of bath salt from France. When I was a kid, my nannies would put it in my baths if I ever scraped my knee or anything like that.”

  “How many nannies did you have?” I asked tentatively, curious as to what it was like to grow up uber-wealthy. The closest thing I ever had to a nanny was the little TV my mother would set me in front of when she wanted some time to herself.

  “Four.”

  “Your parents must’ve appreciated the extra help,” I said, trying to sound as pleasant and agreeable as possible. I had no idea what might set him off and make him angry at me all over again.

  His lips tightened. “My mother died when I was a baby, and my father was working most of the time. So yeah, I guess it was appreciated. By me at least.”

  I saw a flash of vulnerability in his eyes, and for a moment, I felt terrible for him, despite everything he’d done to me. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “I had no idea about your mother.”

  For a brief second, my brain screamed ‘Stockholm!’ at me again. I knew one of the signs of the condition was when a captive began to feel sympathy for his or her captor, and I was definitely feeling that toward Elias right now.

  I pushed the suspicion aside. No, it wasn’t a mental condition. I really did feel bad for him. He might be an asshole, and I might hate him for what he’d done, but I could still separate my feelings from the sadness of his motherless upbringing. No matter who he was, it was tragic that she had died so young, leaving him to be raised by a bevy of nannies instead.

  He abruptly stood up. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t even remember her,” he said, stepping over to the end of the tub where I was leaning my head.

  He reached down into the water and slowly stroked his hands over my shoulders and back, and the feeling of his palms on my skin was the most delicious, gratifying sensation I’d ever felt. Even better than when he rubbed the cream on me last night. His hands were strong and talented, and he knew just how much pressure to apply to make my treacherous body respond.

  “Do you really believe I killed Ben?” I suddenly blurted out. I didn’t actually mean to let the question slip out, but it’d been burning a hole in my tongue, so I guess it had to come out one way or another. I was glad Elias was above and behind me so I couldn’t see his face when I asked. I felt him stiffen, though.

  He reflected the question back at me in a low voice. “Do you really believe you didn’t?”

  “Yes,” I murmured. “I know I was at fault in some way, but I didn’t push him.”

  There was a long pause, dense and volatile, heavy with tension. I squirmed in the tub, regretting ever opening my big mouth. “Let’s not talk about this now,” Elias finally muttered in a brittle tone. “I want us to have a good day.”

  I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as my pulse slowed. I had to admit I was surprised at his reaction. I thought he would revert back to his usual self, angry and seething, filled with fiery rage toward me. I thought he would drag me back into that red room and tie me up and beat me. Instead, he was still being nice and lenient, just like he promised earlier.

  My mind drifted back to the article Greer sent me about beta slave programming. Apparently one of the mind control techniques the MK-Ultra psychologists developed was some form of irrelevant leniency. It entailed letting the slave have certain privileges at totally random times for no apparent reason. This confused them, which led to them becoming even more compliant and subservient.

  Was that what Elias was doing to me today?

  If so, it was damn well working. I was confused as hell, and I felt as if I were balancing on a razor’s edge. One more slip and the leniency might vanish, replaced with the cold steel of anger. I had to try and be good to avoid that.

  Elias got up a moment later, dried his hands, and crossed over to the marble-topped chest on the other side of the room. There was a silver cloche tray sitting on it. He picked it up and carried it over. A delicious buttery scent wafted under my nose as he pulled the dome lid off the tray.

  “Is that….?” I looked up at him, letting my question linger in the air.

  He nodded. “Hot lobster roll from the Buttery at your residential college at Roden. They’re your favorite, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” I said softly. Simply seeing and smelling the roll brought back all kinds of memories from my time at Roden. My friends and I used to go down to the late-night Buttery and get stacks of rolls after all-day study sessions, giggling as we discussed which professors we wanted to slap, which exams we were totally sure we’d failed, and which boys from our classes we thought were cute.

  That all seemed so far away now, like it was from a different life I lived hundreds of years ago.

  “I had it flown up here for you,” Elias said. “Thought it might make you feel a little less antagonistic toward me.”

  I sat up straighter in the tub and took a bite of the roll as he held it out to me. It was just as delicious as I remembered, and I moaned with bliss as I chewed.

  If we were here under different circumstances, this could be legitimately romantic: a gorgeous room, a hot bubble bath, a massage, and my favorite guilty pleasure food flown in all the way from Roden. Elias could actually make the perfect boyfriend… if he hadn’t kidnapped me and held me hostage in this beautiful mansion of hideous horrors.

  A lightbulb suddenly switched on in my mind. He’d inadvertently given me a clue about where the mansion was. If he managed to get a hot lobster roll flown in from the Roden campus in New Marwick without it getting too cold and soggy, then that meant the Finishing School couldn’t be far away. North, most likely, as he’d said ‘flown up’. For all I knew, we could be as close as Bridgeport.

  My heart sank a second later as I remembered Elias was a billionaire. Duh. He had access to multiple private planes, which made the process of flying to and from places a lot faster and easier. A short one-hour flight north of New Marwick could put the Finishing School somewhere in Maine. Maybe even as far as Canada. So again, all I really knew was that we were on the coast somewhere.

  I slumped back in the bath and sighed dejectedly.

  Would I ever know where I was again?

  “Don’t you want any more?” Elias asked, frowning as he held the roll out again.

  I shook my head. “Sorry. I’m not hungry.”

  “All right. I’ll leave it over there for you to finish later,” he said. Something flashed in his eyes before he walked away. Disappointment? Anger? Concern? I couldn’t tell.

  I closed my eyes and sank under the water, one hand reaching up to rub my face. When I emerged, I took a deep breath and kept rubbing at my face, removing all remnants of last night’s makeup which had spilled down my cheeks and encrusted in black chunks when I cried.

  Elias stepped over to me with a towel a moment later. Just in time; the water was starting to turn lukewarm. I stood up and let him wrap the towel around me, luxuriating in the soft fabric, and then I stepped out onto the tiles.

  Elias kept rubbing me down with the towel, and when I was dry, he tossed it aside and led me toward the large hanging mirror in the bedroom. It was framed with ornamental gold. I stared at my bare-faced reflection, wondering what Elias must think of me when I looked like this. Despite the things
he’d done to me, he was still the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on, and compared to him, I felt utterly plain and boring.

  He seemed to read my mind, because he stood behind me and slid his hands around to my hips and waist, stroking and caressing my body as his eyes focused on my face in the mirror. “Even without makeup, you still look like that,” he muttered. Then he stepped away.

  My lips twitched slightly. I suppose that was his idea of a compliment.

  He returned a moment later, holding a bag. “For you,” he said.

  I tentatively opened the bag to find a beautiful black lingerie set. The bra had pearl details and tiny little ribbons woven through parts of it, and the panties had a split at the front with lacy ruffles to disguise it. Classic with a raunchy twist.

  “You want me to wear this now?” I asked nervously.

  “Obviously.” Elias smirked.

  I slipped into the panties and hooked the bra behind my back. Then I turned to look in the mirror again. Makeup or no makeup, the set made me look amazing. It was incredible what a good bra could do. “Thank you,” I said breathlessly. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  I turned to look at him with a timid smile. “Thank you.”

  His eyes darkened as he looked down at me. I felt so short, so tiny and powerless compared to him. “I really wish you weren’t so fucking beautiful. Makes things very hard for me,” he said, voice low and husky.

  “That’s exactly how I feel about you,” I said softly. It was true. I wished he wasn’t so goddamned handsome, because it would make it so much easier to keep hating him.

  At that, Elias leaned down and took my mouth in a bruising kiss. Urgent, hot, needful. Savage.

  His hands cupped my head, tilting my face upward to meet his embrace. I moaned and kissed him right back, my tongue battling his, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as I dug my nails into his broad shoulders, clinging to him.

  A distant voice in the back of my mind told me it was a bad idea, kissing the enemy like this. I should feel sickened by it, should push Elias away, but in the heat of the moment, I didn’t care enough to stop. It felt too fucking good.