Chapter Four: The Withdrawal
628 Words
Ella didn’t sleep.
She lay in her bed, tangled in sheets that still smelled like him—leather, spice, and silk.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Rhett. His mouth between her thighs. The way he spoke to her like he owned her soul, not just her body.
And worse? The way she let him.
No. The way she begged for it.
She touched herself again after midnight. And again an hour later. Nothing worked. It was like her body had been reprogrammed to respond to only his hands. Only his voice.
And now he was gone.
No text. No call. No knock at her door with another black envelope.
Just silence.
---
By day three, Ella told herself it didn’t matter. That it was just a game. That she could walk away just as easily.
She was wrong.
Because by day three, her craving had turned into something dangerous—an obsession.
She tried to forget.
Tried to act normal—go to class, sip lattes, listen to Nina babble about a new DJ she wanted to hook up with—but her skin itched with memory. She couldn’t stop wondering why he hadn’t reached out. Why he hadn’t demanded his second night.
Had she failed some unspoken test?
Was that what he did—take, ruin, discard?
Or was this just another tactic? A new game?
A different kind of control?
---
That night, she cracked.
She took a cab to The Red Room. Alone.
The bouncer—there was one now—looked her over with a knowing smirk and waved her through without a word.
The club was exactly the same—red velvet, slow music, heat pulsing through the walls. But this time, it felt colder.
Rhett wasn’t at the bar.
He wasn’t in the shadows.
He wasn’t anywhere.
“Looking for Wolfe?”
The voice came from behind her—low, male, vaguely amused.
She turned to see a man sitting in one of the velvet chairs. Blond, lean, and dangerous in a polished way. His eyes were the color of ice and far too sharp.
“Who’s asking?” she replied coolly.
He smirked. “Kai. Partner. Co-owner. Occasional babysitter when Rhett’s in one of his moods.”
“Moods?”
“He disappears. Broods. Runs. Pretty girls like you show up and look confused.”
Ella’s jaw tightened. “I’m not confused.”
“No?” Kai sipped his drink. “Then you already know Rhett doesn’t do feelings. Doesn’t call. Doesn’t chase.”
Her throat went dry.
“I’m not asking him to chase me,” she lied.
Kai just chuckled. “Sure, sweetheart.”
He leaned forward, tone dropping. “If he touched you, it means you got under his skin. He doesn’t let that happen often. But don’t mistake heat for permanence. He’ll disappear before he lets you mean anything.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, voice brittle.
“Because I like to watch things burn,” Kai said softly. “And you… you’re a spark.”
---
She left the club before midnight, humiliated.
No Rhett. No second night. No black card.
Just silence.
It wasn’t supposed to matter.
She wasn’t supposed to care.
But as the days passed, the ache inside her didn’t fade.
It spread.
---
She finally texted him.
> ELLA: Was it just one night?
No reply.
---
On Friday, she walked into her apartment and found something on the table.
No envelope this time.
Just a single folded sheet of thick black paper.
Inside, written in silver ink:
“Two.”
Her breath caught.
Beneath it, in the same clean, sharp writing:
“Midnight. Red Room. Don’t wear anything you want to keep.”
- Writer
