Falling for her oppressor

chapter 10

Jason drove with a tense grip on the steering wheel, his mind spinning with frustration. Kyra’s cold silence and defiance back at the house had gotten under his skin. He wasn’t used to being ignored, let alone by someone he thought he had control over. The thought of her lying there, refusing to respond, made his jaw clench. He needed to blow off steam, and there was only one place he could go where he could do that—Mark’s bar.

The bar was a well-known spot for the wealthy, a sanctuary for those who needed a break from the pressures of their world. It was exclusive, luxurious, and always buzzing with energy. After a thirty-minute drive through the city, Jason arrived. The neon sign flickered above the entrance, casting a faint glow over the plush velvet ropes guarded by burly security. Jason didn’t need to stop. The security guy gave him a nod of respect, already knowing who he was—one of the boss’s closest friends.

“Evening, Mr. Jason,” the guard greeted, stepping aside immediately.

Jason didn’t respond, barely acknowledging him as he strode past, his eyes fixed ahead. His mood was dark, and it showed in the way he moved with purpose, barely containing his frustration. He made his way through the bar, the lively atmosphere a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him. The music thumped in the background, and the laughter of the elite crowd filled the space, but Jason was only focused on getting to the private room.

He reached the door and shoved it open, not bothering to knock. Inside, his friend Mark was in the middle of some playful escapade, a young, barely dressed woman on his lap. Mark’s hand landed on her rear with a loud slap just as Jason entered.

“Damn, Jason!” Mark exclaimed, noticing him. “Can’t you knock?” He pushed the girl off his lap gently, though she pouted, clearly wanting to stay. Mark gave her a quick wink and a pat on the back. “Get outta here, babe.”

The girl shot Jason a glance, clearly intrigued by the newcomer, but quickly obeyed, exiting the room with a sway of her hips.

Mark leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin on his face as he looked at his friend. “What’s up, bro? You look pissed.”

Jason didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked over to the mini-bar, grabbed a glass, and poured himself a large shot of whiskey. He downed it in one go, the burn of the alcohol doing little to cool the fire simmering inside him. He poured another glass, this time sipping more slowly, letting the bitter taste roll over his tongue.

Mark watched him, eyebrows raised. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked, leaning forward with interest. “Who pissed you off this time?”

Jason’s grip tightened around the glass, his jaw clenching. “Women,” he spat out. “All of them. They don’t deserve a damn thing, least of all being treated with care.”

Mark smirked, knowing there was a story behind that statement. “This about that girl? The one you’ve been playing house with?”

Jason let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. I’ve done everything for her—everything. I took her out of that miserable life, brought her to my place, and I just spent a fortune today buying her all these clothes, shoes, and God knows what else.”

Mark whistled, amused. “You? Buying clothes? That’s new.”

“I thought I could break her,” Jason continued, ignoring the comment. “I thought she'd eventually give in, stop fighting. But she’s playing this damn game, acting like she’s above it all. Like she’s too good to even speak to me.”

Mark chuckled, leaning back in his chair and grabbing his own drink. “So she’s giving you the cold shoulder, huh?”

“Cold shoulder? She locked me out of our room, refused to open the door. I had to unlock it myself, and even then, she wouldn’t say a word. Just laid there like I didn’t exist.”

Mark’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked it with a grin. “So, you bought her off, brought her home, and now she’s acting all high and mighty? Sounds like you’ve got yourself a real challenge there, Jason.”

Jason’s eyes darkened as he slammed his glass down onto the table, the sound echoing in the room. “I don’t need a challenge, Mark. I need her to fall in line.”

Mark took a sip of his drink, thinking it over. “You’re looking at this wrong, bro. You’re too used to getting what you want. Maybe this one’s just testing you. Seeing how far she can push before you snap.”

Jason let out a low growl. “I don’t have time for tests. She should know by now who’s in charge.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his friend’s frustration. “And you think buying her things is going to change that? Man, some girls are tougher than that. They don’t care about money or clothes. You’ve got to find a different way to break them.”

Jason shot him a look. “And what do you suggest?”

Mark smirked again, his usual cockiness coming through. “You need to get into her head. Make her depend on you, make her realize there’s no way out but you. You don’t just buy her loyalty, you make her feel it.”

Jason stared into his glass, swirling the amber liquid thoughtfully. Mark’s words lingered, and he knew there was truth in them. He’d underestimated Kyra, but not for long. He would find a way to make her see things his way, and when she did, there’d be no more defiance.

Mark leaned forward, his grin widening. “So, what’s the plan, big guy? You gonna let this girl drive you mad, or are you gonna put her in her place?”

Jason smirked darkly. “Oh, she’ll be in her place soon enough.”

Mark raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to that.”

Jason and Mark continued to drink, the tension in Jason’s shoulders slowly easing as the alcohol took the edge off his frustration. They shared a few more rounds, the whiskey flowing freely as they talked about everything except the issue with Kyra, Mark skillfully steering the conversation to lighter topics, trying to lift his friend’s mood.

After a while, though, even Mark could see that Jason was reaching his limit. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing Jason with a grin. “You know, man, you should probably head home before you end up getting completely wasted. No point in getting drunk over a woman, right?”

Jason sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. The alcohol had dulled his anger but not his resolve. “Yeah, you’re right. I need to clear my head.”

Mark chuckled, downing the rest of his drink. “Good call. Just remember, don’t let her get to you. You’re Jason—no one plays you.”

Jason nodded, setting his empty glass down on the table. “She’ll fall in line soon enough,” he muttered, more to himself than to Mark.

Mark clapped him on the shoulder as Jason stood up. “Atta boy. Now go home and handle your business.”

Jason smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He turned and left the private room, making his way through the dimly lit bar, the bass of the music still thumping in the background. The security guard nodded to him on his way out, but Jason barely noticed, his mind already back at the house, on Kyra.

He walked to his car, got in, and started the engine. As he drove through the night, the city lights flashing by, his thoughts swirled. The alcohol had given him a temporary reprieve, but the frustration with Kyra lingered. He needed to get back, to face her again and figure out his next move. One way or another, she would learn not to test him.

Thirty minutes later, Jason pulled into the driveway of his house. He parked the car, sat there for a moment, and then stepped out, the cool night air hitting his face. He walked toward the front door, his mind focused, ready to confront whatever defiance Kyra had left.

This wasn’t over yet.