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I blinked several times before rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands. When I took them away, the room stayed the same. Shoving a blanket away that had been draped over me, my brows furrowed at the vile mustard-colored, itchy material instead of the silk sheets usually on Jacob’s bed.

Nausea churned in my stomach as I swung my legs off the hard bed, my bare feet landing on the cold concrete floor, which triggered a memory. Wallace. Hot chocolate. Wallace looming over me with a bone-chilling grin before everything went dark.

Springing to my feet, my body swayed, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the panic burrowing into every pore or the aftereffects of whatever Wallace had laced my drink with. He had to have drugged me; that was the only answer for why I was trapped in a…

Cell.

I was in a prison cell.

I’d never been particularly bothered by small spaces, but as I spun on the spot, taking in my surroundings and discovering there were no windows, claustrophobia crawled over my skin.

A tremor started in the tips of my fingers, traveling up my arms, and straight to my chest. My lungs tightened, refusing to let air in. Despite sucking in deep breaths, I began hyperventilating as I twisted on the spot again, hoping that somehow, I would find myself back in Jacob’s luxurious bedroom with a beautiful ensuite and enormous bed instead of the cot bed and metal toilet I was staring at.

“No, no, no,” I panted when my predicament stayed the same.

My gaze landed on a steel door, the same color as the dull-grey walls. It didn’t have a handle or lock, but at the bottom appeared to be a closed hatch. I rushed over to it and banged my fists, the pounding ricocheting around the room.

“Jacob? Jacob, can you hear me?” I crouched to the hatch, attempting to prise it open, tears of frustration streaming down my cheeks. “Please, Jacob! Wallace! Anyone?”

My cries went unanswered. Giving up on attempting to open the hatch when all of my nails broke against the harsh metal, I banged harder on the door, panic and fear gripping me in a vice, and my wails of despair grew louder until my throat hurt.

After several minutes of slamming my hands against the steel barricade, my knees buckled. I crashed to the floor, pain bursting to life in my ass from where Jacob had spanked me, and sobbing so hard, it was almost impossible to breathe.

Wallace had done this to me. I always had the feeling he didn’t like me, but to do this? What had I done to him to deserve being locked in a cell? Was I even still on the island? I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious for; Wallace could have carried me out to the boat and taken me to the mainland, and Jacob wouldn’t have known.

But, why?

He must have drugged me the other night too, and it was only because Jacob had been there to catch me when I passed out and keep me safe that Wallace hadn’t struck then. Questions turned over in my head, but I couldn’t think straight to answer them, not with the panic, fear, anger, and helplessness swimming through my veins.

Desperately trying to piece together the fractured memories of the night before, my gaze lowered to the dress I’d worn to dinner, and my blood turned to ice.

I hadn’t put any panties on.

Bile crept up my throat as I slid a hand up the side of my dress, my eyes squeezing closed in mortification at discovering I was bare underneath.

Had Wallace…peeked under my dress?

What if he’d done more than peek?

Before I had time to process what I was doing, I leaped to my feet and rushed over to the toilet to expel the contents of my stomach. When nothing was left except for turmoil, I collapsed back onto my ass, buried my head in my hands, and sobbed until I had no more tears left to cry.

I didn’t know how much time had passed since waking up in this version of hell. I alternated between crying on the rock-hard cot bed and banging my fists against the door while calling for help.

No one came.

At some point, my stomach growled, but with the nausea still churning, I was grateful there was nothing to eat; I would have only puked it up again. Helplessness consumed me as I replayed the stupid decision to attempt to leave the island.

I would happily take another spanking if it meant not being held hostage in a cell by a deranged housekeeper. I still couldn’t figure out why Wallace had done this to me.

For the umpteenth time, I dragged my pathetic ass over to the door and banged again. “Please! Is anyone there?”

“I’m here, angel,” a familiar voice replied, smooth and intoxicating.

Hope soared in my chest, tears of relief brimming in my eyes. “Jacob! Oh, thank god! Can you let me out of here? Wallace locked me in here and-”

“Wallace didn’t lock you in there, sweetheart.”

Desperation to be rescued by Jacob meant my brain didn’t process his words. “He did, Jacob. He made me a drink last night that he must have drugged. I think he drugged me the other night too-”