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She might be a brat, but I’m the one with the upper hand. I will always be in control, no matter how much she chooses to push me.
I take the panties from her. She stares at me as I place them back inside the drawer gently, arranging them perfectly, just the way they were. I run the backof my pointer finger down over the fabric, noting the delicate gold waterlily print on the silk.
That’s the scent I couldn’t place.
Waterlily.
“Despite our initial introduction, I’m a gentleman who knows exactly how to treatguests.” I slide the drawer shut, enjoying the way she jolts a little as I lean closer. “Enjoy this room. For as long as you’re a guest of my father’s, it’s yours.”
She sucks in a small sharp breath but remains silent.
I turn and pick up my suitcase, sensing her eyes on my back as I leave.
Chapter 4
Ava
“Jet sounds like anentitled ass,” Liv says.
I hold my phone to my ear as I open the fridge and take out a carton of grapefruit juice. I woke up thirsty after going to bed with a headache. I’m sad I missed dinner with Magnus. I’ve loved chatting to him since I arrived. He’s been telling me stories of him and Gramps and what they got up to together at school.
“He sounds like one because he is one,” I grumble.
I place the carton down, then lean against the counter. The silk from my green panties is like a smooth caress against my skin. I love wearing luxurious lingerie beneath a regular outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. It makes me feel powerful and strong.
I can pinpoint the exact moment my addiction began. It was my sixteenth birthday. The day I opened a stunningly beautiful, gift-wrapped box from my mother. Everything about that present was perfect. The champagne silk ribbon tied on the outside. The waft ofpowdery scent as I lifted the lid. The shimmery cream silk bra and matching panties neatly encased in the tissue paper inside. That set is long gone now, but its memory remains.
The only thing that would have made it better was if my mother had been there to see me open it.
I sigh, looking out at the immaculate green lawn.
“How’s it going?” Liv asks.
I know exactly what she’s referring to and my spine straightens as something moves outside.
“I’ve written fifty words.”
“That’s a start.”
“And deleted forty-five of them.” I crane my neck to see who’s in the garden.
“Five more than you had, though.”
I smile at her confidence in me. “True.”
“You’ll get there. Have faith.”
I murmur a response as something flicks past the window.
“I’ve got to go, I’ll call you later,” I say as I walk toward the glass to investigate.
“Love you, bitch,” Liv sings.
“Love you too,” I reply and hang up.
The thing flicks past the door again.
What the hell is that? A whip?
