Their Thief

Thirty-seven

"Is Jace taking care of you properly?"

I froze at Luca's question. Clearing my throat, I answered. "Yeah." Thankfully my voice didn't crack at the lie. Jace had told me not to let them know he wasn't here whenever they called. He didn't threaten me or anything this time, but I still didn't want to risk being punished.

Memories of his whip flashed through my head. It seemed like it had happened years ago when only it had been a few months. Lying to Luca caused my hands to shake and sweat to line my brows, but if I had to choose which of the two's anger to face, I would choose Luca's.

"Good, he better be," Luca answered, not questioning my answer. "So, I have a question for you."

I swallowed. "Yes?"

"What's your favourite flower?"

His question threw me off. Favourite flower? He had been asking me at least one question about myself whenever he called. Mostly they were questions like where did I grew up and who my parents were. I always responded with short vague answers or even lies for those I didn't want to tell the truth about. Asking something as simple as what my favourite flower is, was a surprise. I thought he'd ask something more important or invasive.

"Umm, I like peonies."

"That's a beautiful flower. Just like you." I could hear the smile in his voice.

I flushed at the compliment, even though it was a lie. There was no way I was pretty, not compared to the women I had seen around their home so far. They all had smooth skin, silky hair, and looked like runway models. My skin was marred in scars and stretch marks, my hair was dry and frizzy, and I looked like the furthest thing from a model with my short height and lack of hand to eye coordination.

"Hmm, thanks," I replied, even though I didn't believe him.

"Is there anything you want? We're about to head back soon, I don't mind stopping on the way to grab you anything."

His words caused a weight I didn't know I was carrying to be lifted. He told me that they would be back today when he called yesterday. My heart had been racing in anticipation ever since and his words only served to make it race even faster. I furrowed my brows at my reaction, confused.

"No, I'm good."

"Hmm, if you change your mind don't hesitate to call me," he said, knowing full well that I wouldn't call him even if I did. "Or you can tell Vince or Max," he tacked on.

He continued to ask me more insignificant questions about my likes and dislikes were. He also sounded smugly pleased to learn that I was continuing to choose his room to sleep in at night.

"We'll be back in a few hours before the party. I'll come see you before I'm trapped in a room with those stuffy bastards with sticks up their asses and greed in their eyes." His voice lowered and deepened. "I can't wait to hold you in my arms once again. It's all I've been thinking of for the past week."

I flushed at his words, memories of his electric touches and velvety lips flashed through my mind. My heart rate picked up, but I remained silent.

"Bye, love, I'll be seeing you soon."

After ending the call, I stared at the black screen of the phone while self-loathing replaced the warm feeling he had left me with. Just last week I was afraid they were going to force themselves on me to try to impregnate me, but now my body was growing warm just at the thought of Luca's lips on my skin and I was relieved they were returning? I clenched my fists. Was this Stockholm syndrome? Or was my father right and I was becoming the whore he said I would be?