Chapter 83
Georgia loathed herself in that moment. The sharp sting of self–disgust clawed at her heart. She had even considered, briefly, reaching out to Dominic–begging him to buy back her freedom from the suffocating grip of the Vetro Club. But the thought dissolved before it could fully form. Pride and shame warred inside her, leaving nothing but silence.
As Dominic dropped her off at the club’s entrance, his voice suddenly cut through the night. “Do you want to say something?”
She felt the dryness choking her throat, the words lodged somewhere deep, refusing to surface. “No. Nothing.” She forced the response, her voice brittle, thin,
She stole a glance at him, then turned abruptly and hurried toward the club’s door, as if fleeing some invisible predator. But her injured leg betrayed her, dragging behind her in a painful, uneven shuffle. The limp made her feel ridiculous, like a grotesque clown stumbling through her own life.
She couldn’t bear to look back at Dominic. Shame flooded her–an unbearable, raw self–revulsion. You’re so hideous, Georgia, she thought bitterly, so utterly broken.
She reached the elevator and waited as its doors slid open with a mechanical sigh. Just as she stepped inside, her eyes caught sight of a harsh, familiar face–Preston’s, twisting with anger and cold contempt.
Her heart lurched. A chill crept through her veins. She took a hesitant step backward, warning bells ringing inside her. But it was too late. A hand shot out from inside the elevator, dragging her back before she could steady herself.
Before she knew it, Preston pressed her against the cold metal wall and kissed her–forceful, possessive, his mouth crushing against hers.
Anger flared in Georgia. She shoved at him, trying to create space, but Preston was relentless. His powerful hands pinned hers high above her head, holding her prisoner against the steel confines.
“Let go! Let go!” she cried, struggling in vain. Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading!
The elevator doors slid open, and a startled voice pierced the tense air. “Georgia?”
Georgia’s eyes darted toward the figure outside, widening in panic. She fought harder, desperation seeping
movement.
into every
Preston barely spared the person a glance. Instead, his hand slammed the close–door button, sealing them inside the metal cage.
This time, the elevator did not stop until it reached the penthouse. Without a word, Preston bent down, hoisted her into his arms, and strode into the lavish bedroom.
He discarded her onto the vast bed with rough indifference.
Georgia bounced slightly on the mattress but quickly steadied herself, propping up on her elbows to face him. Her breath hitched as she watched Preston silently undo his white shirt, the cool air brushing her heated skin.
She recoiled, backing against the padded headboard, desperate for distance, Yet no matter how far she shifted, Preston remained unwavering at the foot of the bed, his face an unreadable mask.
Her gaze flickered to the open bedroom door, hope stirring faintly within her. Acting on impulse, she sprang from the bed,
moving to escape-
But the moment her feet hit the floor, a heavy hand slammed onto her shoulder, forcing her back.
Preston’s grip was unyielding, pressing her down into the bed as one hand held her captive, the other fumbling at his belt.
Panic rose like a tide inside her. Her breath hitched, lips trembling as she tried to speak–but no words came.
Then, breaking the silence, she screamed. “Go away! Go away!”
Preston’s weight pressed her further into the mattress.
“Go away! You! Go away!” Her voice cracked, tears pricking the edges of her eyes as she clawed at him.
<Chapter 03
Cat S
He caught her hands effortlessly, pinning them above her head.
Conflicted emotions roared within her–rage, fear, heartbreak.
“I can do anything for money!” she spat out, voice raw with pain. “Preston! You said it yourself! You said I was dirty. You said you’d never touch me again. You said I made you sick. You said you were tired of me! Did you forget all of that?”
The sharp sound of ripping fabric cut through the room as he tore her clothes away.
Georgia froze, stunned, the room spinning around her.
Then something primal surged inside her. Summoning every ounce of strength, she wrenched free, clutching desperately
at her tom shirt.
With ferocity born from pain and defiance, she lunged forward and bit into Preston’s shoulder with brutal intent.
Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth–his blood.
Preston’s brow furrowed, but he did not retreat.
She bit again, fiercely, with relentless determination. Each puncture brought fresh blood, raw and vivid.
Her heart shattered, but still, she refused to stop.
Not a single inch of his shoulder remained untouched by her teeth.
Preston’s eyes dropped to the red–streaked flesh, and for the first time, a flicker of something–pain? respect?-passed through his gaze.
At last, Georgia collapsed onto his shoulder, gasping for breath, utterly spent.
Preston remained still, his hands sliding to her waist, steadying her trembling form as if silently inviting her to vent her torment upon him.
Exhaustion overwhelmed her, the fire in her jaws dimmed. Suddenly, his arms closed around her, pulling her back against
his chest.
With deliberate, slow motions, he tugged at the fabric covering her breasts until she lay bare and vulnerable beneath him.
The wounds on Preston’s shoulder began to knit closed, faint shimmer of healing magic glowing faintly under his skin. Werewolf healing powers accelerated near their mates, and her presence hastened his recovery.
Yet he did not relent in hurting her.
Every inch of Georgia’s skin bore Preston’s mark–deep, dark hickeys branded like wounds, reminders of possession and
pain.
Shame and fury churned within her, a volatile storm of humiliation and anger.
“Let go of me!” she shouted, kicking violently.
Is he losing his mind? she thought, terror rising. I can’t stay here. I won’t let him hurt me again. I can’t break down like this.
She scrambled to rise, desperate to escape his grasp.
But Preston seized her ankles, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
He bent down and pressed a soft, mocking kiss to her ankle.
Without warning, he collapsed–beside her, arms wrapping tightly around her trembling body.
“Go to sleep,” he ordered quietly.
“I want to go back to my dorm,” Georgia said, voice cold as ice.
“Sleep now,” Preston repeated firmly.
“I’m a call girl. I’m dirty and disgusting.”
“Sleep,” he murmured, his gaze locking on hers before he closed his eyes.
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Chapter 83
Silence filled the room.
Georgia pressed her lips shut, words dying on her tongue.
She knew reasoning with him was futile. She didn’t understand what tangled thoughts occupied his mind.
Soon, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulled her senses
She lifted her head slowly, disbelief pinning her gaze on his peaceful face.
Did he actually fall asleep? she wondered.
She tried to break free once more, but his arms held her fast, a cage of quiet dominance.
Resigned, she gave up.
Her eyes drifted to the ceiling, thoughts wandering in a haze.
Preston was strange today. What was he really thinking?
Forget it, Georgia. Don’t try to make sense of his games. Maybe this is just another way he punishes me.
Just don’t think about it
Weariness pulled her under, and as her lids grew heavy, the darkness of sleep claimed her at last.
