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What if I lose myself while hurting Ily, and she breaks, after all?
She has a safe word.
As long as I kept listening for it, I would stop.
Khushi.
Happiness.
Fuck, that word mocked me.
Why did she have to be named after two things I’d never earned and so desperately wanted?
Sighing heavily, I glanced around at the high rotund walls.
My eyes widened as I found out why Victor called it the snuffbox.
His theme of gemstones repeated itself. Giant artwork surrounded us at least two stories high, sweeping toward the domed roof above. A never-ending pattern of sparkling, priceless jewels. Sapphires blended with rubies; diamonds scattered on emeralds.
It felt as if we’d be buried under an avalanche of gems at any moment.
“Exquisite, is it not?” Victor puffed with pride. “One of my first jewels was a world-renowned painter. I managed to acquire her when she accepted a hefty commission to paint for a private collector on his yacht. Unfortunately for her, this collector owed me a few debts, and when I went to collect, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. So…I took her with me.” He pointed at the outstanding art. “I allowed her to paint these before I ever laid a finger on her. She lived in here for almost two years. When it was done, I gave her the option of becoming my personal favourite or…I could free her for the work she’d so skilfully done.”
“Free her?” I raised an eyebrow. “You actually let her go?”
Victor chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous. But I did let her go somewhere else.”
“Somewhere else?” I played dumb, stroking his ego, all while my mind raced with the ramifications of how many people he’d killed and butchered.
Just how many body parts had he sold over the years?
“You’ll soon learn, Henri, that sometimes, the only fate available to a jewel is to kill them. I tried for a year to make Beth behave. I tried all manner of things, but alas. She would rather get hurt trying to kill me than fuck me, so…I gave her what she wanted and killed her instead. Let’s hope a similar fate for Ilyana is still far, far away, hmm?”
My heart fisted.
Ily didn’t rise to his bait. She gave none of her usual retorts or barely hidden slurs.
I wanted to hug her for that.
Get on my knees and thank her for staying in character.
Tapping his polished shoe on the echoey floor, Victor muttered, “So…you’ve told me what you want to happen, and I’ve agreed to let you play your way, but…I still expect you to work on the levels of ownership. I refuse to let her cause discord amongst the other jewels again, especially now my home is rebalanced.”
I stiffened. “You said it yourself that the purpose of those levels was to break a jewel. I don’t want her broken, Vic. As long as she never speaks back to you, then what’s the harm if she speaks back to me?”
Victor sniffed. “You’re proposing to let her keep her backbone, which never works—as I’ve just shown with Beth. If Beth had submitted, I would still have an incredible artist. My home could be brimming with stunning art, but I saw her for the infection that she was. She would’ve stirred unrest in my other gems, just like Ily attempted to do.” He crossed his arms. “While she’s obedient, it’s fine. But what about the day she shows flagrant disregard and disrespect again? What about the day she tries to turn Peter against me again? I might be forced to step in. And I’d hate to have to pick up the pieces once I was done.”
Ily sucked in a breath.
I sighed and raked a hand over my face.
Getting my shit together, I snapped, “You have my word she’ll behave. And I have your word that you won’t interfere.”
“Ugh, fine. Oui, oui.” He threw up his hands. “It’s on your head.”
A wild, stupid idea popped into my mind.
He wanted proof she’d behave?
