“What?” I squint up at him. “Where are you sending me?”

He slides his hands from my shoulders to encircle my neck and pulls me toward him. Despite the gentleness of his touch, his eyes are hard with determination. “We are leaving. I don’t want you in the city while I work on this case. Pack your bags for somewhere warm.”

I hold his intense stare, refusing to back down. If I give in on this, who knows what other freedoms he’ll strip from me under the excuse of protecting me?

“I can’t just leave,” I say. “I have a job, and I’ll miss Harper. Besides, what about your promise to me? I want to enroll for classes in the spring, which is only a few weeks away. I understand you wanting to keep me safe, and I believe you’ll do that, but it’ll have to be here. If you trust me, then you have to back off and let me make my own choices.”

His expression remains stony despite my impassioned plea. I search his eyes for a sign he’ll bend on this, but there’s no softness to be found. If anything, he’s more rigid than before.

“I understand you wanting your independence,” he says between clenched teeth. “But I won’t risk your life just so you can enjoy the familiar comforts of home. I’ve made too many mistakes where you’re concerned, and I won’t add another to the list.”

“Do you mean the mistake of leaving those pearls in your pocket?” I jerk from his hold with a laugh, but the sound is hollow. “That was a huge mistake. It showed me I can’t trust you not to put your needs above mine.”

He works his jaw, visibly struggling with inner turmoil before narrowing his eyes. “I’m not changing my mind, Calista. Pack your bags or don’t. Either way, we’re leaving.”

My heart sinks. “I don’t get a say in this?” I ask, bitterness coating my words. “You just get to decide what’s best for my life, and that’s it, end of discussion?”

“It’s for your own good.” He folds his arms, a silent indication that the subject is closed.

I rear back as though he slapped me. Indignation and hurt well up inside my chest, nearly bursting through my skin. “I won’t accept that. You can’t dictate every aspect of my life and dress it up as protection.”

“Say what you want, but you’re not leaving this place until I come back for you. When I do, you’re getting on the plane, even if I have to carry you. Whether you’re tied up or not, that’s your choice.”

I give him a saccharine smile. “How kind of you to let me have a say. What about my body? Will you take that whenever you feel like it, too?”

Hayden’s eyes flash at the implication right before he steps towards me. I retreat, but he keeps advancing until my back hits a flat surface. He slams his palms against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have the strength to run, not with the look of fury covering his face and draining me of my courage.

“I would never force myself on you,” he grinds out. “I’m not a rapist. Don’t insult me or what we have by suggesting it. However…”

He presses the length of his body to mine, pining me in place. I gasp at the feel of his cock, hard and pulsing against me. My cheeks burn from both arousal and shame. I crossed a line, but I can’t take it back, even if I regret what I said because of anger.

“Miss Green, if you think that I won’t seduce you until you’re begging me to fuck you, then think again. I don’t have a problem playing with that pretty pussy until you’re crying to come.”

“Miss Green? I thought it was Mrs. Bennett, according to Sebastian,” I snap, my words sharp and my breaths thin.

“Mrs. Bennett has a nice ring to it. It’d look even better written on your skin.”

I glare at Hayden, knowing I failed to get a reaction from him. “What we have is a joke, Mr. Bennett. You only want me if you can control every aspect of our relationship.”

“Sounds like marriage to me.”

“You arrogant son of a bitch.”

“Call me what you want,” Hayden says, “but remember that name because it’ll be the one you’re screaming later, Mrs. Bennett.”

He shoves away from the wall, his jaw set in a hard line. Without speaking another word, he turns away from me and strides into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I stand there clutching my chest, willing my heart to calm and my panicked breaths to even out.

Seeing Hayden this angry with me… I never want to experience it again.

I stumble from his room to the guest bedroom and sink onto the edge of the mattress. Time passes while I stare ahead, still in shock from the confrontation. The distance between us feels insurmountable, and from the looks of things, we’ll never come to a peaceful agreement.

Unless I surrender.

I grab my phone from the nightstand in Hayden’s room without wincing. Relief due to the pain medication is in full effect, but the pain from my conversation with Hayden earlier still lingers. He hasn’t contacted me since he left for work. I’m grateful, but lonely.

On the screen of my cell phone is a notification from Harper. I smile, despite my battered emotions, and open up the text.

Harper: Hey girl, I know you’re busy resting, but when you get a moment, send me a text. I’m trying not to freak out. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m totally freaked the fuck out over you. Message me when you get this.

Harper: I don’t know if the pain meds they gave you are working, but if not, let me know. My mom works for some big-name pharmaceutical company, and I can get you the good shit.

Calista: Hi friend. I’m sorry I made you worry. After I saw you in the hospital, I was discharged. Then Hayden drove me to the pharmacy to pick up my medication, and we went back to his place to eat dinner. After that, I passed out. How’s Alex? Can you tell him that I’m sorry and I’ll pay for all of the damages once I get back to work?

Harper responds within seconds. I smile as I picture her typing furiously on her cell phone while ignoring everyone around her. Once she has her sights set on something, good luck getting her attention.

Harper: It’s about time you messaged me. I was thiiiis close to breaking into the penthouse, or whatever fancy-as-fuck place you live. Yesterday, Alex and I cleaned up all of the glass, tossed all of the baked goods to ensure they didn’t hurt anyone, and then spent the rest of the day baking in the kitchen. Don’t worry about trying to compensate Alex for anything. Your husband—I believe I heard that Russian god refer to you as Mrs. Bennett—arranged for someone to arrive today and fix everything. He paid for all of it too, and he gave Alex the amount of revenue he would’ve made if we’d been open.

Calista: Wow.

Harper: Yup. When it comes to you, that attorney does not fuck around.

Calista: You’re telling me.

Harper: I am telling you. You should’ve seen his face when he came to the Sugar Cube and saw you lying on the floor. I’m not religious, but I said three Hail Marys. That man looked like he wanted to kill someone, and it wasn’t going to be me. Anyway, when are you coming back to work? I’ll be opening tomorrow. Fuck my life.

I gnaw on my bottom lip, thinking about the travel plans Hayden mentioned this morning. As much as I want to rebel, I’m not sure I want to provoke him again. But if I don’t, then what?

Calista: I’m not sure. Hayden said he wants to take me on an impromptu vacation while he figures out who sent me that delivery.

Harper: You know, maybe getting away from all of this bullshit wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Alex finally hired two more people, and Sheryl is back from maternity leave. For once, we won’t be short-staffed. So, if you’re worried about that, don’t be.

Calista: You know me so well. I’ll try not to feel guilty about all of this.

Harper: You better not. None of this is your fault. I’ve got to run. Some asshole is trying to talk to me and I’m about to tell my economics professor he can take his syllabus and jack off with it. Talk about micro, am I right? 😉

Calista: lol. Ttyl. ❤️

I flop onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling in a daze. Harper made Hayden’s suggestion to leave the city sound reasonable. But whenever I think about the way he ordered me to pack my things, I want to hit something. If I don’t stand up to him now, will I regret it later?

A sigh escapes me, filling the quiet. I don’t have any answers, only questions. Not all of them center around Hayden. Who took my panties and sent them to me almost a year after my assault? I shudder at the thought of someone holding onto them for this long. That’s sick.

What do they want from me? I don’t have anything of value. My family name is in tatters. I don’t have even a fraction of the wealth I used to. I don’t own anything expensive, whether that be something physical or by way of secret or privileged information. Nothing makes sense.

My anger towards Hayden lessens enough for my muscles to relax and loosen a little. He’s an asshole, but that man wants to get rid of the danger looming over me. How can I make him value my independence while staying in the shadow of his protection?

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