Twisted Devotion

9

The tour ends upstairs, in my old bedroom.

Everything is exactly where I left it, down to the pink ruffes on the bed and sketch books on the cream wood drawer. I wasn’t allowed to actually paint the walls,
but I had four large canvases hanging that must have twenty coats of paint each.

Taehyung hasn’t spoken to me since we left the office.

Now he turns to face me in the center of my room. “You’ll stay here until I can trust you. The door locks from the outside.”

I know very well that the door locks. My father had the key.

There’s one way I can leave, though.
Tae’s dark eyes flicker with amusement. “The window’s bolted shut.”

Of course he knows about that. It was the only way I could meet him in the pool house.

My eyes narrow. “And what happens when we get married? Am I still going to sleep here?”

His expression is impassive. “I won’t force you to sleep with me.”

Anger rises up in me at how casually he discusses our marriage. It should be something sacred, something beautiful. Now it’s depraved.

“So we’ll be a couple in name only.” He takes a step toward me, then another. I’m backing up before I can stop myself, shoved flat against the door.
Somehow it’s closed. We’re trapped in here together, and my breath is coming too fast.

His broad shoulders block the light, casting his face in shadows. “We’ll consummate this marriage. After that it will be your decision.”

“It should always be my decision.”

He runs his hand up my arm, sending shivers over my skin.

“You’re right, Bunny. But that isn’t the world you grew up in. You were bred for this.”

As if I’m a horse. An animal.

“You don’t own me.”

“Ah, but I do.” He sounds almost sad. “No one is coming for you. Not your sister. Not your sister’s husband. Not even the owner of that club you were at would dare to touch you now.”

I shove at him, but he doesn’t move an inch. Instead my palms encounter hard-packed muscle covered in thin white fabric.

“You can hold me captive, but you’ll have to use that lock forever. I’ll never stay.”

“Good,” he breathes, his lips inches from my temple.“You shouldn’t trust me. You shouldn’t let me in.”

“I won’t,” I say, but the moment has shifted, altered. It’s intimate when he’s this close to me, when my hands are on his body. It feels like I’ve already let him in. Like I already trust him, even though that’s impossible when he’s keeping me against my will.

For a breathless, tense moment I think he’s going to kiss me. His gaze is on my lips, head bent close. Somehow my chin turns up as if to meet him. This is crazy. This is dangerous…

A sharp bark echoes through the room, and I jump.

Slowly Tae lifts his head and steps back. His eyes are hazy with lust, and as I watch, his focus returns. It should be a relief. I don’t want his lust. I don’t want his attention in any way.

But I can’t shake the feeling of loss when he’s back to his stoic self.

“What was that?” I manage, my voice uneven.

He inclines his head toward the door to the bathroom, which is closed. “See for yourself.”

My stomach fluttering, I push away from the wall and edge around him, careful not to touch. He’s like a flame, hot enough to burn. I open the bathroom door in time to see an orange and brown blur streak by me.