Chapter 8

• EMMELINE
• ★★☆★★
• Darius tilted his head, and I knew I'd fucked up. His dark eyes narrowed so slightly. It was the kind of look that made my blood run cold, even though his expression remained calm. Too calm. Like he was mentally deciding how best to deal with me.
• What the hell had I just done? Blurted out my anger to a man who could probably snap my neck without breaking a sweat? I stumbled back, my palms suddenly sweaty. My heart pounded so hard I thought he might hear it. What was I thinking saying that out at him like I had a death wish?
• I swallowed hard. What would he do to me now? The calmness in his expression was more terrifying than if he’d yelled.
• He brushed imaginary dust from his suit.
• He rose to his feet, the movement slow and my breath hitched in my throat. He was coming closer. My mind raced, frantically searching for a weapon, anything I could use to defend myself. A lamp? A vase? Hell, I’d grab a goddamn pen and stab him if I had to. We were alone. This was my chance. I could kill him. I could end this nightmare right here, right now.
• But then he stopped, just inches away. I braced myself, waiting for the blow, the inevitable punishment for my outburst.
• Instead, he spoke so calmly, the complete opposite of the fury I expected. “You miss your family. That’s why you’re acting out, isn’t it?”
• I swallowed, my throat dry and tight. My family. The thought of them, of my father, of my sister… A sharp pang of grief shot through me. I nodded, unable to speak, the tears stinging my eyes.
• Yes. I would blame my outburst on my family, not the monster standing in front of me.
• “It’s not my fault you ended up at that auction, Molly.” he continued. “But you’re my property now. And my property obeys.”
• I nodded again, numbly. *Property.* The word echoed in my head, cold and insulting. He grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my skin, forcing me to look up at him. “Say it,” he commanded.
• “I… I must obey,” I whispered.
• “Good girl,” he murmured, releasing his grip. “Now come.”
• He turned and walked towards the door, and I followed, my legs moving automatically, my mind still reeling. What was he doing? Why wasn't he punishing me?
• I knew I should have been happy but I could not understand this man.
• Every cell in my body screamed at me to refuse, to stand my ground. But what choice did I have? I followed him, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.
• ☆☆☆
• Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting in the back seat of a car with Darius. The silence between us was deafening, and the air felt heavy.
• I stared out the window, trying to answer some questions in my head. Where the hell were we going?
• “Are you going to tell me where we’re headed?” I finally asked, unable to take the suspense any longer.
• “You’ll see,” he said.
• I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Fine. Be mysterious. Jerk.
• When the car finally stopped, I blinked at the sight of the shopping mall outside. What the hell?
• I turned to him, confusion written all over my face. “What are we doing here?”
• “You need new clothes,” he said simply, stepping out of the car without waiting for a response.
• I followed him, more curious than anything. Why the sudden generosity?
• Inside, the bright lights and bustling crowds of the mall felt unusual after the oppressive atmosphere of his estate.
• Darius led me into a high-end clothing store, the kind I hadn’t stepped foot in since… well, since I was a princess.
• The manager, a woman with a polished appearance and a fake smile, greeted Darius like he was royalty. “Mr. Darius, what a pleasure! How can we assist you today?”
• Her eyes barely glanced at me, and when they did, it was like she was looking through me.
• “She needs new clothes,” Darius said, gesturing to me.
• The manager’s smile faltered for a split second before she recovered. “Of course, sir. Right away.”
• She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, racks of clothes were being wheeled out, each piece more luxurious than the last.
• “Pick something,” Darius said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
• I hesitated, overwhelmed by the sheer number of options. But before I could even touch a single piece, the manager chuckled—a dry, condescending sound that got me confused.
• “I’m sorry, Mr. Darius,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “I didn’t realize the clothes were for… the slave. I’ll have them bring some of our cheapest options.”
• My chest tightened, anger and humiliation crashing over me in waves. Slave. She’d said it like it was nothing, like I wasn’t even a person.
• Before I could open my mouth to snap back at her, Darius turned to her, his expression icy.
• “Whether she’s a slave or not doesn’t concern you,” he said. “It’s a great disrespect to look down on anyone with me.”
• The manager’s face went pale, and she dropped to her knees, her hands trembling. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
• Darius didn’t even blink. “Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to her.”
• The manager’s head snapped toward me, her eyes wide with fear.
• “I’m… I’m so sorry,” she stammered, her voice shaking. “Please forgive me.”
• I stared at her, stunned into silence. What the hell was happening?
• Darius turned to me. “Let’s go.”
• I followed him out of the store, my mind spinning. Who the hell was this man? One moment he was treating me like his property, and the next he was defending me like some sort of savior.
• Nothing about him made sense, and it was driving me insane.