I felt it happening. Felt my body relaxing into a life filled with riches and little wants. I thought the anger would keep me going for longer, that every time I felt his million-thread-count sheets or smelled his thousand-dollar cologne, I’d be filled with a burst of hatred for the man.

And I was.

But life since the downfall had been hard.

And who on this planet wouldn’t take a breather when the down comforter threatened to drown them in the softest feathers they’d ever felt?

I wished I wasn’t so affected by the luxuries in his house. They had belonged to me once too. My life hadn't been that much different from his. I could still remember it.

Could still taste it.

Eight years wasn’t that long.

But it felt like a long time since I was able to live so comfortably. So easily.

So living with the threat of Warren fucking the brat out of you is comfortable now, is it?

I shivered at my inner voice as images of me kneeling in front of Warren immediately came to mind.

Heat swam in my belly. My mouth watered at the unrealized fantasy of him zipping down his pants, taking out his cock, his hand tangling itself in my hair, and him finally fucking my face like I’ve always⁠—

I wished I wasn’t so affected by the man in his house.

I covered my mouth with the back of my hand as my skin heated.

He’s a monster. A monster. A monster. A monster.

I chanted it in my head until I couldn’t anymore, snapping myself out of whatever lustful haze had fallen over me.

I opened my bedroom door and walked down the hallway again.

A chill had settled, and I cursed myself for not bringing a jacket. The flimsy burnt amber two-piece silk night set was nice and buttery, but did nothing to protect me from the cold that infiltrated Warren’s home like a curse.

But it was one of the safest items of clothing Warren had stocked my closet with. Everything else was more similar to the lingerie I wore during the auction than something to actually sleep in.

My bare feet padded against the wood, only stopping when I came to the door of his office.

I couldn’t understand why Warren wanted me so far away from him. It would make more sense for him to force me inside his room so he could use me whenever he pleased.

Maybe he hates me even more than he wants to fuck me.

I paused outside the door across from his office, listening if Warren was moving in his bedroom. When there was nothing, I let out a sigh of relief.

It’s two a.m.; he’s probably sound asleep.

If there was a time for me to move, this would be it.