Chapter 5

• Iris’s POV
• “So, what are you going to do with me?” I asked, having wolfed down the food to the very last bite and licked the steaming sauce off the plate.
• I watched a wry, taunting smile form on his lips.
• “You ask too many questions in just a nanosecond, little petal.” “I think it’s about time I let you know who gets to ask the questions,” he sneered.
• His voice was quiet, cold as steel, yet carried an undeniable strength across the vast space. I stared at him, waiting for some kind of landing. But he just stared right back at me, his gaze piercing through me with an intensity that burned bright.
• I shrugged. “Well?”
• “I get to ask the questions, little petal, not you.”
• “Can you not call me that?” I fired back.
• “Why? It suits you just fine, because you’re exactly like a flower.” He scoffed as he wiped the corner of his lips with a napkin. “Soft, fragile, but still prickly. Don’t worry, you’ll adjust soon enough.”
• I glared at him, starting to feel the flicker of something hot rise in my chest. Something really hot, and disturbing.
• “Thank you for the meal,” I said, pushing to my feet and moving to clear off the plates from the table.
• “Sit, Iris.” It wasn’t a request, but an order, loud and clear, and she wasn’t about to find out what would happen if she disobeyed. “I’m not done with you, yet,” he added.
• Reluctantly, I pulled the chair forward and sank in.
• “What’s going to happen to all those other girls?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Anyway, it was a question I was bound to ask sooner or later, because it had been weighing on my mind since I left the auction house with him.
• I’ve been worried, especially about Sarah.. What would happen to her?
• She had looked so scared as I walked out of the auction house, leaving her behind, and it had left me wondering what kind of man she would get sold to.
• Would he at least feed her? I wasn’t exactly happy to be here with this imposing man—Don Vyon or whatever his name was—but I was grateful that he had fed me, at least.
• Would Sarah even have such privilege?
• I looked up to find the Don glaring at me, with a somewhat…patient look on his face? Or was I reading it wrong?
• Oops..I forgot for a minute that I wasn’t supposed to ask questions.
• Without a word, he rose to his feet and slowly rounded the table to where I sat, the confident, deliberate prowl of a predator. I stiffened as he stopped behind my chair, a damning presence.
• What was he going to do, now? Kill me? Beat me up? Molest me? My breath came out in hot, ragged puffs, as I sat still, waiting for whatever he planned to do.
• A low, guttural sound came from behind me, and it took me quite a while to realize that it was the sound of his laughter. Mocking me. Pushing me further into the thresholds of fear.
• “I might not forgive you if you break my table, little petal,” he said, “it’s very special to me, you see.” His finger was on my face now, tracing a path down my cheek, towards my bottom lip. Trembling, I followed his gaze, wondering what the hell he was talking about.
• And that was when I saw that I was gripping the edge of the table like my poor life depended on it.
• Fear. The cold, suffocating bastard.
• Without warning, he leaned into me, his hot breath fanning the back of my neck. “You see,” he whispered in my right ear, “maybe if I taught you a lesson or two, then you’d learn.” Then, he leaned away, his mocking gaze locking with mine that no doubt, was filled with an immense fear.
• “What do you think?” he asked, and after what seemed like forever of silence, no response forthcoming from me, he returned to his seat.
• “The girls are none of your concern, and this would be the last time I would entertain any questions from you.” He glanced at his watch, a frown marring his perfect face.
• Wait a minute—perfect?
• It now dawned on me that I had already concluded this man to have a perfect face, subconsciously.
• What was wrong with me? Did I even have the time, or luxury to analyze the looks of a man that held me captive?!
• I peered at him closely as he typed away furiously on his phone. But then, his, was a striking, impeccable face. My eyes trailed down to his frame. A great body too.
• I wasn’t used to seeing men that looked this..good—fine as hell was a better description, Jesus forgive me.
• Most of the men I had come across in my nineteen years of life, were parish men and manservants—I had grown up in the church, after all. And these men could only pass for moderate looking, in their white garments and dull countenances. I had never set eyes on a man as handsome as Don Damon, or even close. Not even one as intimidating as him.
• “If you keep gawking at me that way, I might just have to bend you over on this table,” Don Damon said, drawing me out of my thoughts.
• My eyes widened, and for a brief moment, I saw a glint in his eyes…something unreadable, and it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.
• He chuckled and rose to his feet. “Keep tempting me, sweet, innocent, little petal,” he ground out, “and let’s see how long you keep your innocence.”
• I flinched at his tone, although I could hardly understand any of this—his words, his actions, and reactions.
• “Ryder!” he boomed out, and the same sturdy man that had served us appeared almost immediately. “Where’s Mary?” The Don asked.
• Ryder glanced around frantically. “She’s probably in the garden, sir.”
• “Find her, and she should see to it that Iris is tucked away in her room, quietly, and tidied up, until I return.”
• Why did he keep referring to me like I wasn’t right there?
• “Yes, sir.”
• Don Damon then turned to leave, without so much as a glance at me, and I felt my insides boil. I bolted to my feet before he could make it to the door. “How much?” I blurted out.
• He paused, and slowly turned to look at me, a wicked glint in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
• “How much do I have to pay for you to let me go?”
• He watched me for a while, his eyes piercing, as if trying to read me, his face expressionless, and then, he burst into a snide laugh. “How much could you possibly pay me, little petal?”
• I shrugged, feeling my confidence rise. “I don’t know. Name your price.”
• He crossed the room in quick strides, his hands jammed into his pockets. “And tell me, do you have money? How much do you have?”
• I felt my cheeks color with embarrassment. “I can work and pay you off. It’s not a big deal to me.”
• Don Damon scoffed. “Too bad. Even if you worked for the rest of your life, you still wouldn’t be able to pay for your freedom.” He leaned down to meet my gaze on the same eye level. “You belong to me, Iris. Your life would be easier if you just get that into your skull already.”
• With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me trembling with fear and anger in the dining area.
• ***
• “Can you just let me go?” I pleaded quietly, as the pleasant-faced, round woman led me up the stairs, to my new room.
• She looked just like a Mary, the housekeeper.
• “I’m afraid I can’t do that. The Don has instructed me to tidy you up and get you prepared for his return later tonight. If I should let you go, he would kill me.” A patient smile spread across her face as she observed me. “And you can’t even run far, before he gets a hold of you, dear child.”
• I fell quiet at her words, meditating on them, as my eyes darted around the house, searching for a means of escape. I had to escape. This was not the life I had envisioned for myself.
• Yes, Mimi had done me dirty by selling me off like some slave, but it did not mean my life would end here. She, or this don, would not determine how my life would turn out, or end. Only I get to decide.
• They were on the second floor of the manor now, and the woman gestured to a corridor on the right. “Your room is this way.”
• No, no, I cried internally. There had to be a way out of here. I must find… the thoughts stumbled to a halt in my head as my eyes landed on the door at the far end of the hallway. An ‘EXIT’ sign was above the door, on the lintel.
• This was it. She didn’t know what was behind that door, but she was desperate to escape. And she would feel completely useless if she did not even try to save herself.
• “Come, child. We don’t have all day.” Just as Mary placed her hand on the small of my back, I decided to seize the chance, and without warning, I bolted for the door, all sense of reasoning leaving my entire being.
• “Stop!” Mary’s voice came from behind me, trembling, and filled with an unmistakable fear. “Don’t do this!” she screamed, but I did not stop. I kept running, not even looking back at her.
• The only thought recurring in my head, loud and clear, was to flee. Far from this creepy, intimidating mansion.
• Far from him.