Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
She no longer looked tortured by electrocution but baptised by it. Flickers of electricity ran in her veins, arcing out and punishing me.
The crackle of awareness between us chose that moment to ignite.
The steady heat and hexing connection.
The sickness drawing me to her.
I felt things.
I felt far too fucking much.
I’d never felt the things she conjured before.
Not for anyone or anything.
I’d spent my lifetime void of emotion.
I supposed loneliness did that to a person.
It nullified hopes, eroded dreams, and smothered life until your heart was dead and empty. However, the way it hurled itself against my ribs the longer I looked at her said it was no longer dead and definitely not empty. The damn thing fucking overflowed.
Victor shifted in his chair. Sunshine bounced off his sunglasses. “She’s clean. And she’s been dosed with contraceptive, like all my jewels. You’re free to partake in any of them that you wish.”
“Great.” I went to stand. “In that case, I’m taking this jewel to my room. I’ll bring her back once I’ve had my fill—”
Victor burst out laughing.
Slapping the table with his palm, he shook his head with another loud snicker. “Oh no, no, no, my naïve friend. New jewels are for everyone to enjoy.”
“But I thought you said—”
“You can have first fuck. You can do whatever you want to her, but you’re not hiding her away behind closed doors. You want to fuck her? You will do it publicly. You will take her until she is sufficiently broken in. Only once she’s surrendered can you enjoy a more private playtime. It’s for your safety as well as hers, you understand.” He grinned. “Besides, part of the fun of breaking them is to watch the breaking. She’s to be displayed so everyone can watch while you do it. Why else do you think I spend such meticulous attention on finding the rarest, prettiest jewels possible? Men and women with degrees and accolades? Girls and boys with blinding bright futures? They glitter the brightest. They glimmer with a certain kind of fire. The moment that fire snuffs out and survival twists into utmost obedience is one of the best moments imaginable.”
His words sank into my gut, corroding with the knowledge that no matter how hard I held on to my humanity.
No matter how quickly Q found us.
No matter what I did to try to protect Ily from myself and these men…
…I would fail.
Spectacularly.
There’d be no way to fake this.
No privacy blankets to spread over us while I pretended to fuck her.
No corners where cameras couldn’t reach where I could pantomime her serving me.
I would have to touch her.
I would have to use her.
Because if I didn’t…another would.
And as fucked up as it was, I was responsible for her.
I’d noticed her.
Targeted her.
Claimed her.
Mine.
She’s mine.
I felt motherfucking sick.
Victor must’ve noticed my frozen parlour because he patted my hand with a gentle scoff. “Stop listening to that angel on your shoulder, Henri. Tell it to fuck right off. There’s no room for halos and morals here. You wanted into this world. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t see the devil inside you. Let it out to play before I get bored having to mollycoddle you.” Leaning back, he shrugged. “By the end of the day, you’ll either be free or more broken than her. It’s entirely up to you.”
Shoving aside the shreds of the son I used to be and the past that’d tried to define me, I squared my shoulders. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He chuckled and cocked his chin at the men still lingering around. “Gentlemen, for those who have had the privilege of training a jewel, how many levels of ownership are there? And how many of them do you think Henri can achieve in a weekend?”
A ripple of conversation.
I didn’t dare look at Ily.
She didn’t dare speak.
A slim Spanish-looking man stepped up the steps of the patio. A gorgeous Asian woman dressed in a sheer silver negligee with her golden collar gleaming and empty eyes locked on the ground followed closely.
He loomed over our table, ignoring his obedient jewel. “There are twelve levels of ownership.” Looking me up and down as if he debated asking me to clean his loafers, he smirked. “And I doubt you’ll be able to accomplish a single one.”
“Now, now.” Victor laughed. “Be nice, Loui.”
“Twelve?” I cut in.
“Don’t feel like you have to memorise them. I will walk you through each one,” Victor said. “But…out of interest’s sake, the twelve ownerships are: ownership of her body. Ownership of her mind. Of her thoughts, impulses, and feelings. Of her pleasure. Her instincts. Her synapses. Her senses—including sight, taste, hearing, touch, and pain. Ownership of her embarrassment and liberation. Obedience and submission. Of her life. Her soul.” Leaning closer, he licked his bottom lip. “And finally, ownership of her all. That’s my personal favourite.”