Without even glancing at the camera hanging above me, I go to bed naked and pretend to fall asleep with the key clutched firmly between my fingers. There, I wait for hours, checking the clock every once in a while when I turn around.
Once the clock reaches 3:00 a.m., I slide out of bed and put on a bathrobe. I walk out of my room and close the door softly so as not to disturb anyone. No one appears to be in the house, though I reckon guards will be waiting outside should I try to escape.
But I won’t … I’m only going on a short exploration, and I know just where to go. On my toes, I slip downstairs and to his study. The door’s locked, so I pull out my key and wriggle it into the lock, twisting it. A soft click follows, and the door opens.
My heart pounds in my throat as I go inside and close the door behind me, then move straight to his desk. No one’s here, so I’m sure he’s gone to bed as I’m sure his favorite pastime is watching me lose my mind in my room. He sits here every single day, doing whatever it is that he does to make more money and get more power. And I know for sure this key leads to something right here in this very room.
My hand slides along the surface of the desk, below the rim, searching for a button. Got it. The screen comes down again, showing the live video feed. Unsurprisingly, no cameras are inside his room. He only spies on others, but no one can spy on him. Filthy, dirty bastard with his filthy, dirty fingers touching me in places I haven’t even been. And it was right here against this desk …
Just touching the wood makes me feel his fingers inside me again, toying with me, playing with my clit while he kisses me on the lips, and for some reason, it instantly makes me clench my legs together.
No, I can’t think about that. Not now, not ever.
I open the laptop on the desk and turn it on. It’s password protected, but that won’t stop me from trying, so I enter a bunch of random things that come to mind.
VanBuren.
Error.
CharlotteDavis.
Error.
Only one more try left. Shit. Hmm … what about …
CharlotteVanBuren.
Ping.
The laptop switches on, and I’m left with a lopsided grin on my face. That asshole made my name his password? I’m not even surprised even though it’s creepy. It’s Easton Van Buren, after all.
I check his laptop files and try to find something about myself using the search option but to no avail. There’s no information about me on this thing except for the video files maybe. So I open those and press the timestamp for yesterday evening.
Our sexcapade was definitely caught on camera. In fact, my pussy is in full view and so is his dick as he strokes it. My cheeks heat again, and I gulp from the way he shoves that plug into my ass.
I close the file before I get all hot and bothered again. He has folders filled to the brim with videos such as these. What does he plan to do with them? Use them to jerk off to? Extort me with them?
Whatever the case, I can’t let it happen, so I immediately move all the files from last night into the bin and permanently delete them from his computer with a smirk on my face. I turn off the camera in this room for an hour so it won’t record me being in here, and I’ve also erased the footage it already took.
That’ll teach him not to mess with me.
But I shouldn’t forget why I came here in the first place; the entire reason I got myself in this situation so I could steal his key. He must be keeping something more from me because he knew my father and brother were having that celebration at the restaurant. I need to find out how.
I search his laptop through, leaving nothing uncovered. However, there’s little to nothing on this laptop about his business. Everything’s locked behind passwords, and no matter how many times I guess, I can’t figure it out, and it’s infuriating. For some reason, it also has no access to the internet either, which means I can’t send out an email or any other call for help.
I sigh out loud and lean against the desk, wondering if it was all for nothing.
That’s when my fingers slide along the locked drawer.
What if …
I immediately go to my knees and touch the lock. It looks the same as the one in the door, so I grab my key and push it in, twisting it. A click follows, and my heart jumps into my throat. I pull open the drawer and look around to make sure no one’s watching before I peer inside.
On the bottom lies a notebook … pink … fluffy …
Mine.
My eyes widen, and my breathing falters as I pick up the notebook I used as both a diary and a planner. I sink to the floor with the fluffy pink notebook in my hands. I’m shaking as I open it and read my own handwritten notes on the pages. My heart races, and my stomach twists as I sift through the pages finding that one date … the date my father’s company would be given to my brother.
It’s all in here. This is where he found out about the party at that restaurant.
From my notebook.
That I never gave to him.
In fact, I’ve never even carried it outside my little apartment.
My fingers tremble at the sight of the words.
Easton had this in his possession all this time. My notebook … stolen from my apartment. The same notebook that suddenly vanished a couple of months ago even though I turned my whole apartment upside down looking for it.
Easton’s been in my apartment, and he took something away from me without my knowledge. Without my permission.
Shivers run up and down my spine at the thought of him coming into my apartment when I wasn’t even there … or, worse, when I was.
Because there was this one night when I woke in the middle of what felt like a dream, when someone touched my face and hair, and a draft entered my room. What if it wasn’t a dream after all? What if it was … him?
What if he was there all along, watching me … stalking me?
My entire body feels numb and cold to the bone as I scramble off the floor with that notebook still in my hand.
No wonder he knows so much about me, about what I like, my style, my favorites, my dislikes. It’s all in here. This fucking notebook gave away my life. And he used it against me.
Tears well up in my eyes. I want to shred this thing to pieces. Rip it apart and chuck it out the window. But if I did that, I’d give myself away.
He’d know I’d been to his study alone, and that I’d meddled with his affairs. He’d know I’d stolen a key that belongs to him.
And he’d probably punish me for it.
Hell, I’d be surprised if he didn’t lock me up in my room for the rest of my life.
There’s no other choice. I should put the notebook back where I found it.
My fingers reach for the drawer, and I stare at the wood as though it’s a coffin where I’m about to leave my beloved friend. If Easton keeps this in his possession, he’ll be able to use all my own thoughts and wishes against me all over.
Could I? Would I be able to live with that?
Suddenly, a clicking noise has me on edge, and I shut the drawer and duck for cover.
Someone walks past the room, a light emanating from the hallway. Luckily, they don’t come inside and go up the stairs instead.
But I can’t calm myself. What if they come back? I have to get out of here before someone finds me in here, so I close the laptop, lock everything up again, and leave the room exactly the way it was.
Except for the notebook.
Because that notebook belongs to me. Not him.
And no one else but me will keep it hidden.
