Chapter 7
1387 Words
Evelyn’s blood boiled. She looked at the man in front of her and wondered how he dared to say those words.
It was true she had put herself in this situation, but it had never been about the money. One look at Roman had weakened her knees and had her imagining being on her back for him. Or her front. Or sideways. Whichever way he wanted her. He had turned her head from the start. She often wondered if how she had looked at him had been why he had offered her the job.
She would have said yes without him offering a monthly wage, but because she had so greedily accepted it, Roman would always hold it against her.
“Escort,” she said through gritted teeth.
“No, Evelyn. w***e. Prostitute,” Roman said coolly. “You let me f**k you however I want in exchange for money. That is the literal definition.”
The way he said that, as if he really didn’t give a s**t about her feelings, hurt more than the words themselves.
“Roman_”
“Mr Ashfield,” he cut in.
She bit her jaw. Roman never cared what she called him.
“I quit. I don’t want this position anymore. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding someone else.”
It was hard to let those words pass her lips, but she hadn’t watched her mother work two jobs most of her life just to end up like this. Her parents would be heartbroken if they ever found out what she had become.
“That’s true,” Roman said arrogantly. “But none of them would be so... easy.”
Her cheeks coloured. She turned to look at the passing scenery outside her window to avoid his gaze. Bastard.
“Your lawyers can let me know how much I need to pay, and we’ll be done with it.”
Roman sighed as he looked through his paperwork again and then handed her a few sheets from the pile.
“I took the liberty of printing a copy of your contract. Pay attention to all the highlighted areas, and then tell me again that you can afford to pay the penalty.”
The contract she had signed had many sections, including a Non-Disclosure Agreement and pages full of rules. The rules she had memorised. The contract itself, not so much.
With a frown, she leafed through it until she came to the first highlighted section. Her eyes bulged at the figure. Ten times what he had paid her plus all expenses, including rent and utilities?
She eyed the man in horror and then back at the contract. She could never afford rent at that place, even if she were gainfully employed. But she’d signed this. She remembered the day clearly. The interviewer had surprised her when he’d led her to the top floor, where she came face to face with the man himself. Her brain turned to mush before Roman had even made his proposal and had stayed like that the whole time she had been signing the papers.
“What do I need to do to get out of this?” she whispered.
“You can’t. Not unless you have all of that money to pay me.”
“You don’t even need it,” she pointed out.
“It’s still mine,” he answered with a shrug.
She bit her lip as she looked out the window again, fighting back the tears. When had Roman become such an asshole? Maybe he had always been one. Decent men didn’t pay women to sleep with them; that should have been a sign. She’d screwed herself by agreeing to this in the first place.
She would still leave. Roman could have all the money she had left in her bank; it wouldn’t be her first time being dead broke. He could take her to court if he wanted. This was England. If she didn’t have the money, then she didn’t have it. If a judge said she could pay him a tenner a month, then he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I hear your parents recently came into some trouble with their landlord. I imagine the money sitting in your bank will be useful to them,” Roman said casually.
She frowned. Her mother hadn’t said anything about Mr Jenkins giving them any trouble lately. She had been sending enough to cover the rent to make sure her mother didn’t struggle too much with the expenses. How did Roman know about this?
“They could be homeless soon if you don’t hurry up and buy that house you’ve booked to view.”
Her heart sank as she watched how he casually threw that information at her. The threat was so evident in his words.
If Mr Jenkins threw her parents out when she could do something to help, she would never forgive herself.
She blinked back her tears as the car continued out of the city. She didn’t dare look at the man in front of her again, but she could hear the rustling of papers. He had returned to work as if he couldn’t see that he’d broken her heart.
But who was she kidding? Roman didn’t have a heart, so he had no empathy.
Her phone buzzed and she quickly fished it out of her bag in case it was her mother. It was Brendan.
‘Who was that? Will you still make it tonight? We’ll do a pub crawl before we hit the clubs. I’ll send the details.’
When was the last time she’d done any of that? It seemed like a lifetime ago. She wished she had stayed in touch with her friends. Now she had no one to talk to; she had isolated herself.
Looking up from her phone, she saw Roman’s eyes were on it. He’d had access to her other phone; that was why she had returned it. Maybe that was how he’d found out she had been house hunting.
She put the phone back in her bag and looked out the window again to see they were already turning into the driveway. The sight of the house deflated her. It was a beautiful, sprawling house, but it was her gilded cage.
The moment the car stopped, Roman picked his briefcase up and got out of the car. She followed slowly. Every step towards the house felt like she was sealing her fate. She should fight him harder. She should threaten to go public. But she knew he was a man of his word; he would destroy her family.
Roman was already halfway up the stairs when she walked in. Every step was heavy as she made her way up the stairs, and then her step faltered when she saw the room he had walked into.
Her breath caught. Her favourite room. Roman could f**k her senseless anywhere in this house, but in that room, he made her soar. It was where he took her to reward her, but she knew she had done nothing to deserve it, so this wouldn’t be like that.
Still, she felt her knickers getting drenched, and her body tingled as if it completely forgot Roman had just been an asshole to her.
Slowly, she followed in after him and found that he had already taken his jacket off and had loosened his tie. He sat on his throne at the furthest end of the room, watching her every move, his brow perfectly arched. She kept her gaze on him as she walked to stand in the middle of all her favourite toys.
“Strip,” he ordered.
Like a performing circus animal.
“Just like that? Are we not going to discuss this?”
“Take your clothes off, Evelyn.”
She closed her eyes and mentally screamed at herself when her toes curled at his commanding tone. Her stupid body was betraying her once again. The tingles in her body turned to flames, and shame flooded her. Easy. He was right; she was so f*****g easy.
“Don’t act like you won’t be screaming my name in a few minutes. I have your consent to do this in black and white. Strip, Evelyn. Then let me f**k you like the good girl you are.”
- Writer
