Chapter 72 - 74
He releases and the echoes of my panic wilt on my tongue as tears pour from eyes, streaming down my temples. The last thing I want is for him to see me cry but I can’t help it—I can’t stop the deluge.
"It’s a nice dress," he breathes with a hellish and hypnotic lilt in his voice as his fingers curl around the modest chest cut out. "You look like a king’s queen, when I need you to look like his—mistress."
He wrenches the hole wider, the force lifting me an inch off the backseat as I ground my jaw to hold in any sound—the fabric ripping, tearing a plunging neckline to create a gaping slit to expose my breasts and glimpses of my strapless bra.
"Better."
I thud back down, flinching when his finger comes near my face. Landen’s thumb then swipes away at a streak of tears with a whisper of menace in the movement that was made to be loving. "Wouldn’t it have just been easier to listen the first time, hm? Instead of trying to make a monster of me."
I squeeze my eyes shut as I jerk my face away as if willing reality to relent this nightmare.
He pulls himself away from me slowly and I scramble back upright like the car is on fire, shrinking into the corner. Landen digs into the opposite side compartment on his side to take out sanitary wipes and chucks it onto the vacant space between us.
"Fix your makeup."
***
The door opens, a breeze turns the flap, the gaping silt sags open, a droopy desecration I try to hide by crossing my arms over my chest as I climb out.
The house hosting the party is less a home and more a spectacle. A sprawling manor perched precariously on the water’s edge, its foundation elevated on sturdy supports that defy gravity and reason. Most of the structure extends out over a private lake, its shimmering surface reflecting the grandeur above. From a distance, it appears as though the house is floating, an architectural mirage hovering over liquid black glass.
Landen places a possessive hand on the small of my back to steer me towards the grandiose entrance. As soon as we step through, the thumping bass drives my pulse and the scent of sex fills the air. Dancing black silhouettes against the hazy red. The stripper poles and risque trapeze artists suspended in the air and dancing just as erotically as the strippers who might as well be naked.