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I seize her upper arm, and she cries out, then cuts the sound off. This time, I'm not entirely sure she's acting. Jenkins opens his mouth, as if he's going to demand she stay, or tell me to go find him another woman to rape. I don't give him the opportunity, dragging her to the door.
"We leave in an hour, Jenkins. Tell them to leave your gift outside the door. I'll be busy until then," I call over my shoulder.
I don't wait for an answer, pulling her into the hallway and around the corner quickly. I loosen my grip when we're far enough away. Peeking at her pale face, I spot tears in her eyes and curse softly. The bedroom they stuck us in is in the opposite wing. We pass several guards, and they rush out of the way when they see me. Most don't even spare Aelia a glance.
Our room appears after several minutes of walking, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Unlocking the door, I shove it open as the pile of clothes Aelia stacked on the floor slowly slides out of the way. I push her inside, then kick the wood shut, locking it again.
"There has to be a better way to figure out if people are coming into the room," I say, as she wraps her arms around her stomach and paces to her side of the bed.
The fact that in my mind she has a specific side after only a week isn't lost on me. I'm studiously ignoring it for now. No use going down the rabbit hole, wondering if years from now she'll still be sleeping on the left side of our bed. Because there's no guarantee we'll live that long, or that she would stay with me if we did. I shake my head, heading for the closet to change.
"If you have an idea, I'm all ears. For now, piling your pants behind the door is the way we'll go."
I stand in the closet, staring at the mixture of clothes surrounding me. Mine hang next to the ones I bought Aelia. I stuffed the shit Grant brought in the back of the bottom drawer. Aelia keeps telling me she has to wear them, but I refuse. I'll use the power I currently have to make that stop.
I sigh, running my hands through my hair. I've only been here a month and yet I feel drained. The world outside doesn't seem to exist anymore, though I'm sure life is still going on for them. I can only hope it's still there when I finally get us out.
Sixteen
Aelia
I shiver, following Dante out the front doors. The stairs in front of us are massive. Glancing back, I'm hit with how large the place is. It's probably something I should have noticed, but being locked away inside the building for six months gave me a skewed perspective.
Dante tugs on the leash, and I whip around, the collar around my throat pinching the skin on the back of my neck. He apologized as I buckled it on, but for some reason, it doesn't bother me. In fact, the whole setup makes me feel safer. At least this way, no one will question who I'm with. No random men will grab my ass, or try to drag me into a closet. I clearly belong to Dante.
My father passes us, sneering at me. Then his eyes fall on the collar and he flushes. Normal people would be incensed that their child was being led around like a dog, but not Anders Drake. He's probably upset I'm being allowed to leave headquarters.
"Problem, Drake?" Dante asks, his hand landing possessively on my neck.
"Does Jenkins know you're taking your bit off property?" he bites out, still staring at me.
"That's none of your business. I'd be careful if I were you. Thin ice is easily cracked."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Dante shrugs, then directs me toward the blacked-out SUV. Jenkins graciously offered Dante the use of a Guild car, though I'm sure it was so he wouldn't take me and run. Dante wasn't happy, but I wasn't surprised.
I wonder how he was able to gain so much freedom within so little time. I've watched several men clamor for years to have a seat on the council. Hell, a lot of them are merely wanting VIP status and they never make it. And here Dante is, swooping in and breaking all the rules. He has to be supplying information the Guild needs, but I can’t imagine what it entails. The money isn’t enough to convince Jenkins to give Dante such a high status.
When I asked Dante what he told Jenkins, Dante told me not to worry about it. It took me an hour to realize I just let him brush me to the side. It hit me how much I trust him to not fuck me over. Eventually, I’ll demand answers since I can’t ferret out Jenkins’s secrets without revealing myself.
Dante settles in the seat, pulling me onto his lap even though there's space next to him. He nods to the man who slides in the other side. The man grins, eyes undressing me as he scans my body. Part of me wishes I could have just stolen some of Dante's clothes, but I'm used to being leered at. I lay my head against Dante's shoulder, feigning submission.
I subtly try to smell him. There's a hint of exhaust under a woodsy aftershave. I can't place it and it's been driving me nuts. Sleeping next to him every night, I'm surrounded by it. Eventually, it'll seep into my pores, into my bones, refusing to leave me be. Soon I'll forget what it was like to not have him around.
"Any way you're willing to share?" the man asks, and I tense.
"No, Byron, I'm not," Dante growls, running a hand from my knee to my thigh.
His fingers dig into my hip, but I don't mind. I didn't think I'd ever feel safe while still owned by the Guild. Somehow in such a short amount of time, he's convinced my body he's a haven. I burrow deeper into him, wondering why my mind is still holding out.
After his conversation with Jenkins, I'm starting to understand what he's trying to do. He won't succeed without me. I have access to the financials. Granted, they're limited and I’m monitored, but I could feed him information at the very least. Especially with us staying in the same bedroom, it should be easy to work together.
Fear slices through me, sending tingles down my arms. I’ve spent so long toeing the line, the thought of things changing terrifies me. Digging my nails into my palms, I bite my lip, hoping the pain will center me. It doesn’t.
I can’t afford to lose my shit here with other people present. Even if Byron, whoever he is, doesn’t say something, the two guards riding in the front will.
The leash jingles as Dante swings it around my body, gripping it with the hand on my hip. He turns his head, lips brushing against my ear, and I shudder.
