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Maybe I was the one who pushed her away.
The first thought had been a prelude. Now, I was being bombarded with more and more ideas, clues, as to why Violet had left me. I never should have tried to break her so soon. Having her as my possession was so much more important than her submission. And now... Now it was too fucking late.
The last time we were together, I broke her.
Had I misconstrued everything?
Had I mistaken her breaking for me as becoming mine, when actually, her breaking point didn't give her what I'd expected... She wasn't free from her own oppressive mind when she submitted to me. I wanted to make the worry, the rules, all the things she'd been taught to believe, to fall away, leaving her raw and vulnerable for me.
But now, I wondered whether breaking her had done something else.
I wondered if it gave her the strength to walk away from me.
Maybe that son of a bitch Peterson is actually telling the truth. Maybe she just wanted to get the hell away from me.
Disgust at myself, at my own actions, made my fingers shake as I reached for my silent phone. I did my best to ignore it.
No calls. No news on Violet. No more fucking hope.
She really was gone...
I allowed the phone to slip through my fingers, burying my head in my hands.
Gone. Fucking gone.
I slammed my fist against the oak desk, making everything on it rattle. The staff had barely cleaned the mess I'd made during my outburst last time, and here I was, ready to wreck the place again.
My phone started ringing on my desk, snapping me out of my thoughts. Hope filled me with every ring that sounded through the deathly silent room, and I allowed myself to believe this call would bring good news.
I reached for the phone, glancing at the unknown number and furrowing my brows. Normally, I would've ignored the call, but with Violet's disappearance, I just had to take it.
"Devlin Windsor," I answered the phone. "How can I help you?"
"The question, Devlin Windsor, is how I can help you." The voice on the other side was robotic, masked beyond recognition. I glared at the number again, but it was blocked. "I heard you were offering money for Violet Cabot's safe return."
"What do you know?" I barked into the phone, making the voice laugh robotically.
"More than you," the voice said cryptically. "A hundred million, was it?"
"Only if she's unharmed," I hissed in response.
"Oh, she's unharmed," the unrecognizable voice went on. "Unharmed, unscathed and comfortable. Happy, even."
"Cut the shit." I could barely hold my anger back anymore, my words dripping with venom as I shot them out, like stabs to the stomach, the knife going in and out and tearing the flesh. "I know it's you, Peterson."
Just then, the door to my study opened, and Jasper appeared in the doorframe, frantically shaking his head at me. I'd had a tracer put on all incoming phone calls, and Jasper was signaling me now, trying to say the voice wasn't who I thought it was. I glared at him, and he muttered, "It's not Peterson. I've got the signal he was calling from, and this ain't the same place."
Knitting my brows together, I returned my attention to the phone.
"Well, finally you're listening," the voice said. "I made you a deal, Windsor. Are you going to take it or not?"
I had no reason to trust this person. I didn't even know who it was. But the thought of Violet imprisoned, hurting, being subjected to torture that wasn't a direct order from me, made me fucking crazy. I grit my teeth together and tried not to think of the insane amount of money I was giving up in exchange for her safe return.
She's not just a plaything,I realized again, my stomach tightening into knots as I remembered my sweet princess.This just fucking proves it. To her, to me, to everyone who's got their fucking doubts about us. Let them fucking talk now.
"I'll take the deal," I said firmly. "But I want proof that Violet's unharmed."
"Money first, Windsor," the robotic voice interrupted. "Money first, and then you'll get what you want."
