THE TERMS OF SUBMISSION
785 Words
Chapter 4: The Terms of Submission
The heavy oak doors of the Crowne estate hadn't even fully clicked shut behind them before Elowen ripped herself away from Julian’s grip.
The high heels she had been wearing for hours clicked sharply against the marble foyer as she spun around to face him, her breathing ragged, the diamond collar around her throat catching the golden light of the chandelier.
"What was that out there?" she demanded, her voice echoing in the vast, quiet space. "’She is under my personal and exclusive custody.’ You made me sound like a piece of confiscated property, Julian! You humiliated me in front of everyone I’ve ever known."
Julian didn't look bothered in the slightest. He slowly unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket, sliding it off his broad shoulders with a calm, deliberate ease that only made her blood boil hotter. He handed the jacket to the waiting butler, who vanished into the shadows of the mansion without a sound.
"I didn't humiliate you, Elowen. I protected you," Julian said smoothly, stepping into her space. He loosened his silk bow tie with one hand, his gray eyes locking onto her flushed face. "Arthur Sterling would have torn you to pieces. The press would have eaten you alive. By declaring you mine, I made you untouchable. No one in that room will ever dare speak your name with disrespect again."
"Because they are terrified of you!"
"Exactly," Julian whispered, a dangerous, sharp smile touching his lips as he closed the remaining distance between them. He stood so close she could smell the expensive champagne and the dark, rainy scent of his cologne. "They are terrified of me. Which means you are safer under my wing than you have ever been in your life."
"I am not safe," she breathed, backing up until her spine hit the cool wood of the grand staircase railing. "I am trapped."
Julian didn't deny it. He reached out, his long fingers wrapping gently but firmly around the diamond collar at her throat, his thumb resting right over her hammering pulse. He tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"You signed the contract, Elowen. You chose this cage," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, seductive baritone that sent a confusing wave of heat straight to her core. "And tonight, you played your part beautifully. Mostly."
Elowen’s eyes narrowed. "Mostly?"
"You opened your mouth to speak to Sterling," Julian reminded her, his thumb applying a fraction of pressure to her jawline—not enough to hurt, but just enough to demand total submission. "We discussed the rules before we left. You do not speak to the public unless I authorize it. You broke the terms within the first hour."
"He was insulting my father!" she snapped, her pride refusing to bend. "I have a right to defend my family."
"You surrendered your rights when you put your name on my parchment," Julian whispered, his gaze dropping to her parted lips before rising back to her eyes with a terrifying intensity. "Your father is safe in his bed right now because of my silence. If you cannot maintain yours, the deal is void."
The brutal reminder hit her like ice water. The anger in her chest deflated, replaced by the crushing weight of her reality. She was entirely at his mercy. She hated how much power he held over her, but even more, she hated the electric spark that flared in her veins every time he touched her. It was a chaotic, toxic attraction, and it terrified her.
"I understand," she whispered tightly, looking away from his hypnotic gray eyes.
"Look at me when you submit, Elowen," he commanded softly.
She forced her gaze back to his, her chin trembling slightly but her eyes blazing with a quiet fire. "I understand, Mr. Crowne."
Julian’s eyes darkened at the title, a heavy, possessive satisfaction settling over his sharp features. He slowly released his grip on her jaw, his fingers trailing down the bare skin of her shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
"Good," he murmured, stepping back and gesturing toward the stairs. "Go to your room. Strip off the dress, but leave the diamonds on. I want them waiting on your vanity table by morning. Tomorrow, your training begins."
Elowen didn't wait for him to change his mind. She gathered the slit of her emerald gown in her hand and hurried up the stairs, her heart racing not just from fear, but from the intoxicating danger of the man standing in the hall below.
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