bedroom before I’m yanking the bloody scrubs off my body with shaking hands. My heart beats unevenly in my chest, making me feel unsettled in my skin. Stepping into the shower, I run the water as hot as I can, hoping and praying that the scalding liquid will wash away the guilt that’s mingling with the man’s blood.
The urge to pick up my phone to call Mia and tell her everything is almost unbearable, so I keep them busy instead. I towel dry my body, moisturize, and pull on a random gray loungewear set. I’ve just finished taking my makeup off and washing my face when I feel his presence.
“The food’s ready, come eat.”
“No thanks.” Turning on my heel, I move to exit the bathroom. He blocks my path.
“It’s not a fucking request, Lexie.”
Standing in my bathroom doorway, Callum’s giant figure fills the frame, blocking me in completely. This time when he looks down at me, I don’t look away. His expression is one of domination and intimidation, but I’m not having any of it.
“You’re going to sit down and eat a full meal,” he states—like it’s a fact.
“I’m not hungry.” It’s not a lie, my appetite disappeared the moment Callum slammed that poor man against the wall by the throat.
“I don’t give a shit if you’re hungry or not. You haven’t eaten yet today, you’re going to eat.”
“What, are you watching me?”
“I always have eyes on you. Don’t doubt for a second that I know everything you do.”
“I’m not eating with you.”
“Either you walk into the kitchen, sit that beautiful ass of yours in a chair, and eat every bite on the plate I set in front of you,” he leans forward, getting closer to my level without breaking eye contact. The corners of his mouth lift into a taunting smile, “or I’ll put you in the chair myself and personally feed you every single bite. And you’ll have seconds.”
He sounds almost excited about this possibility—like he’s hoping I choose to defy him. Like he wants to manhandle me and hand feed me every bite, be in complete control of me. He’s getting off on this, the perverted control freak.
A chill runs down my spine, goosebumps raising on my arms. I bite my bottom lip as I consider my options. His gaze catches on my mouth, growing heated, and the air in the bathroom shifts around us. Suddenly the tension between us feels more sexual than angry.
“Fine,” I grit through clenched teeth.
Callum’s eyes move back to my mouth once more before he finally steps aside so I can pass. But he doesn’t move nearly enough, forcing me to press my body against his to squeeze through the gap. He flashes a satisfied smirk at my glare as I shove past him and walk to the dining room. He’s following closely behind me and I don’t even care that it makes me look petulant, I stomp a little before I fall heavily into a chair with a huff.
The table is set for two, the plates filled with seasoned chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. A tall glass of water sits next to my plate, laughing at me. Callum takes the seat adjacent to mine, sitting down casually and getting comfortable like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He digs into his plate without hesitation. When I don’t even reach for the silverware, he leans forward and rests his muscled forearms on the table. His eyes latch onto mine and dare me to challenge him.
“Don’t test me, Dewdrop. You’re an investment now, and I take care of what’s mine.” His deep voice sends a wave of lust curling through me, but I ignore it and throw him a withering glare. “You’re going to eat everything on the plate and drink everything in that glass.” There’s no way out of this other than to obey. I’d rather die than give this man the satisfaction of feeding me each bite.
Triumph lights his eyes when I relent, reaching for the fork and taking a scoop of the creamy mashed potatoes. He watches intently as I eat the first two bites and cut a piece of the chicken. It’s perfectly seasoned, the son of a bitch. He relaxes back into his chair while I chew, his eyes only leaving me once I swallow.
There are a lot of things I can say about Callum, but the bastard can cook. Reaching for the glass of water, I take a sip.
“Good girl,” he murmurs deeply.
My eyes snap to his over the glass, his piercing gaze pinning me in place. The heat in his eyes sparks something inside me, warming my blood. His focus flickers to my pursed lips, expression as unreadable as ever. I slowly put the cup back on the table, shaking off the desire and forcing myself to keep eating as if the room doesn’t suddenly feel ten degrees hotter.
After dinner, Callum disappears and leaves me to stew in my emotional chaos. There’s nothing to distract me anymore; not food, and not a sexy, controlling asshole watching my every move. No matter what I try to focus on, my brain loops back to the image of Callum slamming that man against the wall. Something snaps in my mind that has me on a fucking mission.
His office is off-limits, but I don’t give a damn. I stride in there with a purpose, making no attempts to hide my anger. Callum looks up from his computer and watches as I take a seat in one of the chairs across from him. His passive expression just pisses me off further. Callum doesn’t think he needs to concern himself with me and my feelings. He thinks that my emotions are just ridiculous and inconsequential.
He’s very wrong.
“I want out,” I state, sitting tall as I glare at him across the desk. He leans back in his chair, black dress shirt pulled taut across broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to inked elbows.
“There is no out, Lexie. If you read what you were agreeing to before you signed it, you’d know that.” His condescension is like a slap to the face, sparking my temper.
“You think I’m dumb, Callum, is that it? That I’m some clueless girl who just didn’t read the fine print? I did. I read every line of that contract. I just didn’t know the kind of man you are when I was reading it. So when I signed my name, agreeing to be the medical party that acts on your behalf, I didn’t know that meant doing your bidding—even if it means hurting people.”
As always, his eyes remain fixed on me in an unrelenting stare. I feel like a bug being examined under a magnifying glass. The way his eyes touch every detail about me and seem to climb right into my head to read my thoughts is unnerving.
His expression in return is calm as still water, his shoulders rigidly set in stone. “The contract is binding,” he says, making me scoff.
“Not legally,” I argue. I’ve done my research, I know my rights. “You gave it to me in bad faith. No judge would uphold it.” His expression darkens, the look in his eyes terrifying.
“You think we’re talking about lawyers and judges here, Lexie? I thought you knew better by now. I don’t waste my time with red tape and paperwork. A broken contract means resorting to more personal measures. Family, friends.” He speaks slowly, deliberately enunciating each word to punctuate them with menace.
Dread settles in my stomach, heavy as a ball of lead. I shake my head in denial, images of Mia, Samantha, and the rest of my loved ones flashing through my mind.
“You wouldn’t hurt them. You’re not that petty.” My words come out too quickly, betraying my uncertainty. Callum sits forward in his chair, arms resting on his desk, his eyes sending the message; try me and see what happens.
“Aren’t I? You just told me this contract showed you just what kind of a man I am. So tell me, Lexie, what do you think I’m capable of?” His question hangs in the air between us like a hanger’s noose. He stands and braces his arms on the desk to loom over me, eyes sucking my soul straight out of my body until there’s no life left, no fight. “It’s binding. I suggest you get cozy, this is your life now.”
