A Debt Owed by Clarissa Wild

Author:Clarissa Wild [Wild, Clarissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-22T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Charlotte

I can’t stay there. Not a minute longer.

I thought I could do this, but I can’t.

Not when he taunts me like this every single day, pushing me and shoving me in whatever direction he wants just for the fun of it. He doesn’t say those things because he means it. He doesn’t truly want me; he just enjoys angering me, torturing me, and pushing me beyond my limits.

And I’m letting it happen. I’m letting this powerful, arrogant billionaire take over my thoughts just because his fingers were all over my body last night, and I didn’t protest.

Not until it was too late—when he’d already gone—did I realize what happened. I should’ve stopped it, but I didn’t. He knows I regret that, but now he’s using it against me.

Fuck him.

Footsteps are audible behind me, and before I know it, someone’s grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. “Where are you going?” Easton snaps.

“I’m leaving,” I hiss.

“Impossible,” he says, chuckling as if it’s funny.

“Fuck you!” I shout.

He raises a brow at me. “Is that all you can come up with?”

My lips part, but out of annoyance, I don’t know what to say, and it only pisses me off further. “Gah, why do you have to be such an asshole?” I reply, shaking him off. “Do you enjoy torturing me? Pushing me to the brink of insanity? Is that what you want? A wife who’s lost her mind?”

“No.” He steps closer, his hands in his pockets. “I want a wife who obeys my every wish, and I want that to be you.”

“Then you want something that doesn’t exist,” I reply, shaking my head.

“You underestimate yourself, princess.” He keeps stalking me when I walk off.

“I’m not a princess,” I say, and I gaze down at my bathrobe. “It doesn’t matter what clothes you put on me, what bed you make me sleep in, or how many times you make me dress up. I’m not a doll, and I never will be. You should’ve invested your money somewhere else.” I turn around again and walk around the rooms, jerking on every window I can find. There must be some way to get them to open, right? They have to air out this place.

“You’re wasting your time,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “They’re all locked. We have vents for air.”

“I don’t care.” I won’t stop searching until I find a way out. I’ll never stop. Not even if he puts locks on all the doors and windows or chains me to my goddamn bed. I’ll never fucking stop. Because if I don’t, he’ll have been right all along about my inability to resist him.

He’s still following me around even as I go into his private study where he keeps all his books and memorabilia. “Why are you so obsessed with escaping?”

I spin on my heels, and yell, “Because I need to be free!”

Saying the word free causes tears to well up in my eyes. It’s the one word that defines all the things I lost the moment my father decided to sell my body to the devil himself and I came to this place.

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