AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Argh.
I still couldn’t believe he sent my mother an AI-generated recordingandgot me fired. He deserved more than a punch to the face or a kick to his groin. The man needed to be thrown behind bars, locked away for good. I just had to put up with the submissive act till I found a less dangerous means of escaping from his clutches. It didn’t matter how hard he claimed to be on the outside; every man loved a submissive woman. Unknown to him, his ego would be the source of his downfall.
When he was distracted and convinced, I’d strike, and he would never see me again.
However....
My mind was in order, knowing what needed to be done and the importance of getting away from a man like Egor Yezhov. But I was having a hard time convincing my body to stay in tune.
Even now, in this tub, immersed in water, the feeling of his fingers between my thighs, journeying up my legs, was as vivid as the night he’d touched me.
I swear I didn’t want to think about it. I really didn’t. But I couldn’t stop. The details flashed, and my nipples stretched hard in reaction to the sound of his deep, bass voice in my ears, the heat of his body pressed against my side, his large hand on my back. And the not-so-secret bulge between his legs that dug into my thigh. It blew my mind to believe that I’d aroused him. I almost thought I’d imagined it.
And that might have been possibleifit didn’t affect me, too.
The experience had been a first. It was new, foreign, and frightening.
Back in college, I had friends who ranked guys according to how hot they looked, their charisma, and their intelligence, among other things. A lot of them were a solid ten. But men likeEgor hit above the bar—wayabove the bar—like a hundred over ten.
He was undeniably attractive and had everything any rational woman would swoon for.Almosteverything, except a heart. It didn’t matter which way I looked at him; I didn’t think it was possible to unsee him from that night with that gun pointed at his old uncle’s head. It was irrelevant that the ex-mob boss probably deserved it as a consequence for all the terrible things he’d done to many families. It still marked Egor as a murderer. And fantasizing about a murderer was a solid taboo.
I cupped a handful of water, splashed some on my face, and combed my fingers through my hair.
Another puzzling piece was figuring out why he kept me alive.
Gathering from the research I’d made on them, his clan was brutal. They didn’t accommodate threats, and I had adequate information on how they treated those who lived long enough to be captured by them. The end result was almost always the same: They didn’t live longer than two to five days. I’d lived longer, and that was a sudden cause for concern.
Whatever the case, I would make sure all the cards played in my favor.
I reached for the nearest robe and lifted myself from the tub. Warily, I watched the droplets of water soak into the bathroom rug under my feet and walked up to the round mirror on the wall. It had pretty golden lights underneath and illuminated the bathroom in a fancy way.
Beside it, on a rack, I’d neatly hung my lace underwear. It was a matching black pair: a sheer bralette and a thong. The bathroom was genuinely the only place that offered privacy. The room had a security camera, and I was very much aware that he had full access and used it to spy whenever he wanted.
Hence, my decision to take my underwear alongside me.
While dabbing my hair, I appreciated the prison bathroom, which seemed to have everything built in. I couldn’t lie; it was better than being thrown into a basement.
If the circumstances were different, basking in the beauty of the place would have been an option. But that wasn’t the case. Constantly, I was reminded that I was nothing but a captive with as many rights as women had before anyone gave a thought to suffrage.
If I allowed myself, I might just get too comfortable.
After quickly brushing my teeth, I dropped the towel, cinched the robe around my waist, and teased the strands of my hair. Twisting to the side, I inspected the brown tips brushing just below my hip line. Gosh. I needed a hair trim.
I made sure the bathroom was in order—because I didn’t want the housekeeper to have stories about me being a brat and unorganized—and stepped out.
My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach at the sight of him seated at the edge of my bed, unbothered, with focused green eyes and one leg crossed over the other. I clutched my chest and fought the urge to swat him with one hard swipe of my hand.
“God. You scared me.” I slowed down to catch my breath. “What is wrong with you? Do you go around sneaking up on people like that?”
Snap.
I guessed bridling my tongue and maintaining a temper check had to be the first step to take to make sure I aced the pretense strategy of being okay with his arrogance and social awkwardness.
Also, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but seeing his mouth curve in a wry smile was at the bottom of the list.
Egor brushed a hand down the front of his jacket and tapped on the spot beside him. Laying there was a beautiful longsilver satin dress. It was sleeveless with a plunging neckline and draped over the edge of the bed to the rug.
“Number one: This is my house. I don’t think ‘sneaking up on people’ is appropriate to be used in a context involving the owner of the residence in which you stay.”
