Bound To The Monster Who Ruined Me

Adrian Fletcher hung up the phone. He signaled the bodyguards, and they immediately locked the heavy glass doors of The Sargon Club. The lobby manager sprinted over, sweating through his suit. Adrian ignored the man's stammering. He bypassed the lobby and marched straight into the security control room. Inside, a technician hammered on a keyboard. He pulled up the camera feed for the top-floor VIP corridor. The screen showed nothing but static. "The circuit blew last night," the manager wiped his forehead with a trembling hand. "The cameras were fried." Adrian's eyes turned lethal. He grabbed the manager by the collar and slammed him against the monitors. "If you don't find the woman who entered that suite, this entire club will be leveled by tomorrow." The manager's knees buckled. "The schedule! Get the shift schedule from HR!" An HR supervisor rushed in, handing over a crumpled piece of paper. The manager pointed a shaking finger at a highlighted row. "Haleigh Delaney. Her shift schedule shows she was the primary staff assigned to the VIP suite's routine service last night." Avery was just temporarily sent up to deliver wine and wasn't officially logged on the top-floor roster. "We only found Haleigh at first glance, I swear it." Adrian snapped a photo of the name. "Where is she?" "Breakroom," the manager gasped into his walkie-talkie. Down in the staff breakroom, Haleigh Delaney was applying bright red lipstick in the mirror. The intercom barked her name. She frowned. The second she stepped out of the room, two massive men in black suits grabbed her arms. They dragged her toward the VIP elevators. Haleigh screamed, her face pale with panic. Inside the top-floor suite, Cassius sat on the sofa. He wore a custom-tailored suit. Smoke curled from the cigarette between his fingers, failing to mask the violent impatience in his eyes. The door opened. Adrian shoved Haleigh inside. Haleigh looked up. When she saw Cassius's god-like, sculpted face, her breath hitched. Cassius narrowed his eyes. He scanned her up and down, searching for that phantom scent of roses and rain. Instead, a cloud of cheap, synthetic vanilla perfume hit his nose. His stomach churned with disgust. He crushed the cigarette into an ashtray. "Were you in this room last night?" Cassius's voice was ice. Haleigh opened her mouth to deny it. But then, her eyes darted to the coffee table. Resting next to the ashtray was a silver necklace carved with a rose. It was Ayleen's. Her roommate's most prized possession. Greed swallowed Haleigh's fear in a split second. She bit her lip, forced tears into her eyes, and nodded slowly. Cassius's expression darkened. He stood up and closed the distance between them. The sheer physical dominance radiating from him made Haleigh's legs give out. She dropped to her knees. Cassius gripped her chin, tilting her face up. He studied her features. There was no spark. No peace. A violent surge of irritable confusion rose in his chest. He couldn't smell that unique scent of roses and rain on her at all. But the necklace was the only physical evidence left in his room. Could she have used a different perfume last night? Or... He forcibly suppressed his deep-seated suspicions, deciding to keep her close under his strict observation for now. He picked up the necklace and tossed it into Haleigh's lap. "Since it was you, I will take responsibility," Cassius said, his tone devoid of any human warmth. "But do not expect anything more than what I give you." Haleigh clutched the necklace to her chest. She kept her head down to hide her manic smile and nodded weakly. Cassius turned to Adrian. "Set her up in a high-end apartment. Put a detail on her." He walked out of the suite without looking back. Adrian gestured coldly toward the door. Haleigh stood up, straightened her spine, and strutted out of the corridor she used to clean. Miles away, Ayleen dragged her broken body into her cramped apartment. She collapsed onto the narrow twin bed, shivering violently. She forced herself into the bathroom. She turned on the shower, scrubbing her skin until it was raw. She stared at the red bruises on her neck in the mirror. Humiliation choked her. She reached for her collarbone to find comfort. Her fingers met empty skin. The necklace. Her mother's only relic. It was gone. All the blood drained from Ayleen's face. She ran to her torn uniform on the floor, ripping the pockets inside out. Nothing. She dropped to her knees. It had to be in that suite. But the thought of going back to that monster made her stomach heave. Suddenly, her cell phone screamed from the nightstand. The caller ID flashed: Brenda. Her adoptive mother. Ayleen swiped to answer. Brenda's hysterical sobbing blasted through the speaker. "Ayleen! Your father was in a crash! The sky is falling!"