His Slave

61. The End

The next morning, I wake to find that James has already gotten up. What time is it? I sit up and glance at the screen by the bed.

11:27AM.

I never sleep that late. I must have been more exhausted yesterday than I thought.

As if he could sense the exact moment I woke up, James enters the room, a cup of coffee in hand.

"Good morning, my darling little slave," he says as he comes over to my side of the bed. He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, making my stomach flutter in response.

I smile up at him. "Good morning, Master," I reply softly.

He brushes his thumb across my cheek. "I'm glad you're home," he says, offering me the cup of coffee.

I take the mug gratefully, cradling it in both my hands. "Me too," I agree, taking a slow sip of coffee. It's rich and warm and made up exactly to my liking. Fuck, I missed coffee.

"The police are here," James says after I've downed a few sips.

Oh yeah. I had forgotten about that. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I ask in surprise, throwing the covers off.

He smirks, stroking my hair. "I wanted to let you sleep. And besides, they've only been here for a few minutes," he adds.

I take another sip of my coffee before setting the mug on the nightstand and getting out of bed. I dress quickly in a casual navy blue dress that falls just below my knees before stepping into my flats. I know this is my home but going around barefoot in front of the police would be awkward.

Once I'm ready, James takes my hand and we head downstairs.

The police chief is seated in the foyer, flanked by four other officers. None of them look thrilled to be here.

"I though she said she was sending someone," I whisper to James as we descend the stairs.

He chuckles softly. "I guess she decided to send herself," he retorts, trying to ease my nerves, but her presence here makes me uneasy.

"Miss Ricoletti," she acknowledges as we join her, sitting on the sofa across from her.

"Good morning," I reply, hoping I sound respectful. Given my reputation, and the fact that I'm a debtor, I know she'll already be wary, so I don't want to give her anymore reasons to distrust me.

Her eyes fall to James and I's intertwined fingers, and she frowns. "I know you've been through quite a lot, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to speak with you alone," she says dryly.

I knew it would be like this, but still, panic spikes in my chest and I glance to James who squeezes my hand reassuringly.

"It's alright," he whispers to me. "I'll be waiting right outside."

I give a slight nod before meeting the police chief's gaze again. "I understand," I tell her softly.

"You can use the room down the hall, to the left," James tells her

She nods, standing up. "Miss Ricoletti, shall we get this over with?" She asks me.

I nod, forcing myself to let go of James' hand. The second his fingers leave mine, I already feel their absence. I get to my feet, following her and one of the other officers into the room James specified.

I've never been in this room before. It has simple decor, with a rug, four large wing back chairs and a coffee table in the center. The only decoration is a crystal vase on the coffee table, filled with blue roses. It must be some kind of meeting room.