Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Total ownership over her mind and soul.
I’m incapable of being loved—my fucktoys only ever felt awe mixed with fear, and then relief when the night was over—but I intend to train Bella and prime her body to always respond to me. Soon I’ll be able to get her off with just a touch. She’ll love the sensations I give her, even if she can’t love me.
Or she might resent the control I have over her. The things I do to her. She’ll hate me for making her like them.
But she’ll crave them. And because I’ll be the only one who touches her, she’ll crave me.
It won’t be love, but it’ll be close enough. She’ll be loyal and devoted to me, even though she’ll resent it. I can take the hate, as long as she accepts my control.
“Let’s go. We need food, and then you need to get to class. After that, I’m going to pick you up and we’re going on an errand.”
“An errand?” She perks up. “For Fraternitas?”
I don’t answer because it’s none of her business. I control her schedule, not the other way around.
“Are you murdering someone?” she asks.
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you were?”
“No.”
She wriggles in that way she does when she’s excited. “If you are going to murder someone, can I help?”
I give her a look that says I have a ball gag, and I’m not afraid to use it.
She giggles.
It’s going to be a long day.
Bella
* * *
My fiancé takes me to breakfast at the diner, where we sit in the same booth. He makes me eat a veggie omelet before rewarding me with pancakes. He eats the equivalent of half a cow and drinks a pot of coffee. I notice he didn’t dare taste the coffee I gave him earlier. That’s fine. Poisoning him that way would’ve been too easy.
What are the chances I can use baked goods? Or honey? I can’t wait to find out.
He drops me off at class. I was hoping to catch up with Honey, but she arrived late. I texted her about sleepover plans, and she confirmed, so I’ll have a chance to tell her everything then. At the end of class, Honey gets called up to the front to talk to the professor. I wait for her, but Kaiser’s hovering in the classroom door. He’s breaking the rules by roaming free on the campus. Either that or he got special permission.
I want to linger to see if I can chat with Honey, but she’s still talking with the professor, so I catch her eye, give her a wave, and head over to Kaiser. When Honey notices who I’m with, she visibly startles and pales. I give her a thumbs up and indicate that I’m going to call her later. She nods, biting her lip.
Not exactly how I wanted to tell her about Kaiser, but at least she knows now. I’m hoping she’ll have more info about Fraternitas for me at our sleepover.
Kaiser puts his hand on the small of my back and escorts me all the way to his Jeep. He’s also brought me lunch: a portobello mushroom sandwich from Pane P’s and a peach iced tea.
“We have a few errands in New Rome,” he explains as he pulls away from the curb.
“Like what?”
“Like marriage counseling.”
I nearly spit my iced tea out. “Marriage counseling? Why do we have to do that?”
“Because I fucking said so.” Kaiser shifts gears and speeds up to merge onto the highway.
“It’s not a real marriage,” I argue, but I’m distracted when his bicep flexes and his shirt sleeve moves, revealing a nasty-looking burn.
“Ooh, you got a rash. Does it hurt?”
He doesn’t answer. Which is fine. I was going to offer to kiss it better, but if he’s going to be rude…
“It looks painful. Next time you’ll think twice before playing in my secret garden.”
“It looked like a bunch of flowers.”
“Just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous. People think natural means healthy. I can name twenty ordinary household plants that will kill you.”
“Like belladonna?”
“I’m probably the only person you’ll meet who grows belladonna. Which is a shame. It’s a lovely plant. It just happens to have dark purple berries that can cause you to go mad.”
Kaiser doesn’t say anything. I take a little nap and wake up when he parks the car. I stare up at the neo-Gothic building. The sign reads St. Xavier’s Cathedral.
“A church? We’re going to a church?”
“Father Francis is waiting.” He opens my door, pulls me out of the car and guides me in with his hand on my back.
I half expect him to burst into flames when he enters the church, but he walks in like he owns the place.
I can’t believe he’s making me do premarital counseling for an arranged marriage.
A priest is indeed waiting for us. He’s around forty and looks like someone’s kindly uncle. Kaiser shakes his hand and introduces him as Father Francis.