Page 53 of Savage Elites

His hardness pressed into my ass, and disgust rippled through my belly. The more I struggled, the more he became aroused. I let my body go limp.

His heavy breaths slowed. “Are you going to be quiet like a good girl and listen to what I have to say?”

I nodded.

The forearm Mr. Byrd wrapped around my middle wedged itself underneath my breasts, and I forced myself not to squirm. Forced myself not to give him the struggle he wanted and forced myself to wait. My heart accelerated, and sweat poured down my brow.

“The other day in Mrs. Benazir’s office when you saw me reprimand my daughter, that’s all you saw. A slap.”

I stiffened. If he was willing to admit to slapping Bianca, then it was to cover up the even more atrocious act he had wanted to commit against his own daughter.

“Now, Miss Evergreen. What did you see when you walked in on Bianca and me?” He loosened his grip.

“A slap,” I said from behind the hand still loosely clamped around my mouth.

“Are you going to tell anyone about what happened in here?” he asked.

I shook my head, hoping to convince him of my silent lie.

“Will you sign a document to that effect?”

I nodded, hoping he didn’t have it on him.

“Very good.” He released me and walked away. “Bianca will be in touch with you soon. Don’t make me return here to warn you again. You won’t get off quite so lightly.”

I clapped a shaking hand over my mouth and spun around, only to see him disappear around the corner. His footsteps receded down the hallway, a door creaked open and then shut, but I still stayed in that alcove.

After several moments, a long, shuddering breath escaped my lungs. I had thought he would—I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. Mr. Byrd was an evil monster but not an idiot. If I spread any shit about him, no matter how true, he would carry out his unspoken threat.

All thoughts of Sebastian and whatever he might be hiding receded into the back of my mind. The more immediate threat of Mr. Byrd might still lurk in the hallways, encouraged by my naked photos and the grudge he held against me for seeing him abuse his own daughter.

I stuck my head out of the alcove and peered down the hallway. As much as I wanted to rush back to Leopold and Prakash to tell them about Mr. Byrd, I couldn’t risk encountering him in the east stairwell. Instead, I turned in the other direction and ran to the west wing without stopping.

After locking myself in my room, I slid down the door and spent the rest of the night on the floor staring blankly between the scanned pages of Corrine’s diary and the translated Optical Character Recognition on my laptop. Mr. Byrd had left me too scrambled to refine the rough translations into coherent words. Did grabbing someone while aroused count as sexual assault?

Rubbing at my temples, I bit down hard on my bottom lip. “Shit,” I muttered. “What should I do next?”

Mr. Byrd hadn’t rubbed his erection into my ass, nor had he touched my breasts with his hands, but my insides still rippled with revulsion. The man had done just enough to shake me to the marrow while not doing anything concrete enough to report.

“This is so fucked up.” I slammed the lid of my laptop shut and slid it across my parquet floor. “He’s twisted me into knots.”

Thanks to Ashley talking shit to the police, I didn’t want to be the girl who cried wolf and have my more serious complaints dismissed, but I also didn’t want to encourage further encounters by making him think I would let the matter slide.

* * *

Early the next morning, just as I was changing, someone knocked on my door. I asked who it was, but the person continued knocking. I took my time and fastened my tie and slipped on my jacket before crossing the room, flinging open the door, and snapping, “What?”

Bianca stepped back. “Father says you’re going to—”

I slammed the door in her face and turned the lock. If she wanted me to sign a document saying her father wasn’t an abusive monster, I would stuff it down her throat.

Bianca continued knocking, but I ignored her until it was time to go to breakfast. She followed me to the dining room, reminding me of my obligation, but I continued to ignore her. Fortunately, she backed off by the time I sat at the kings’ table, but she continued to shoot me furious glowers.

“Where’s Sebastian?” I asked Leopold.

“Brooding, most likely,” muttered the blond boy.

“I still have that box in my room,” said Prakash. “What do you want me to do with its contents?”