Scarlett POV:
Gosh, this guy is unbelievable. I'm not signing this damn thing.
How am I supposed to even sign it with my hands tied?
I leaned back against the headrest, trying to calm my racing thoughts. But my mind was anything but at peace.
Images of his angry face kept flashing in my mind—cold, ruthless, and unforgiving.
What if he comes back and decides to punish me physically? He's already made it clear that he has no qualms about torturing a woman. He's said it himself—he doesn't care.
I shuddered at the thought.
What do I do? My hands are tightly bound, my legs too. I can barely move.
I glanced down at the document in front of me and sighed. I had to at least make an effort—maybe just a drop of ink on the paper would be enough.
Trying to bend my head toward my thighs was harder than I expected. The chains around my waist were restricting me, making every movement feel like I was dragging an anchor behind me. The more I tried to adjust, the more the pain intensified.
Finally, after a lot of struggling, I managed to get low enough. Using my mouth, I bit down on the pen and held it steady.
It was difficult to maneuver, but I finally slid the cap off with my teeth. Thankfully, the agreement was on the first page.
At the bottom right-hand corner was an empty space for a signature—my signature.
I couldn't sign it like this. The best I could do was at least get my name down.
Gosh, my handwriting was worse than a child's. I hoped whoever read this didn't mind my messy scrawl.
I was almost finished when I heard a familiar voice.
"What did you do this time?"
I froze, my heart racing. I lifted my head slowly, the pen slipping from my mouth as I locked eyes with him.
Bright ocean-blue eyes. So piercing. So intense.
"Good morning, Mr. Cross," I greeted, trying to hide my nervousness.
But he didn't seem to notice. Instead, he went straight to a drawer and began rummaging through files.
I think he spends a lot of time in here.
"Mr. Cross, please, can you help me?" I pleaded.
He paused, then looked at me with a bemused expression.
"First thing: Why are you chained up, and why are you in my room?" he asked, still not looking away from the drawer.
I swallowed. Oh, this is his room. No wonder it was the only door I'd opened without dust covers.
"I ran away last night," I admitted, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckled.
Wait. Is he laughing at me?
"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"I was scared," I said simply.
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you still a virgin?"
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt my face flush, my throat tightening with nervousness. This man is shameless.
"No," I replied, feeling ashamed. Ashamed that I'd let Jason, that lowlife, take something from me that was never his to claim.
"Then what are you scared of?" Mr. Cross asked, standing up. He held a blue file in one hand, the other casually in his pocket.
"Just do as he says and you'll be fine," he added, as though it was the simplest advice in the world. He started walking away.
"Please don't go," I begged. "Can't you help me talk to him?"
He came to a halt and turned to face me. His expression was unreadable.
"I won't," he said flatly, and without another word, he left, leaving me alone.
I just stared at the door, a mix of frustration and helplessness welling up inside me. Mr. Cross and Mr. Grey—what a pair of troublemakers.
My position was getting unbearable. My back ached, and my hands and feet were already red and sore from the chains.
I've learned my lesson. No more running. No matter what happens next time, I'll stay and face it.
Xavier POV :
I pulled the trigger, watching as the last man dropped to the ground with a dull thud. His body crumpled lifelessly, and I smiled, satisfied.
That served them right. They should've known better than to spy on me.
I was almost certain they'd been sent by Ajax Clinton. A mafia don—daring, but also foolish. He'd clearly underestimated me.
I didn't feel the need to send my men after him just yet. I wanted to see what his game was. Whether he wanted me dead like most of the other mafias or if he was after something else. Either way, he wasn't getting anything from me.
I waved a hand at my men. One more move from Ajax, and I'll return the favor—bigger and better.
That was done. Damien was handling the company today, so I had nothing urgent to do—except one thing.
A smile curled on my lips as I thought about the pink-headed nuisance in my house.
The mistake she'd made? Daring to defy me and not signing that document. She was going to pay for that.
Xavier's Mansion:I stepped out of the car, my bodyguard quickly closing the door behind me.
As I walked toward the mansion, I heard the faint sounds of movement inside.
I wasn't planning on releasing her anytime soon. I made my way to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower, taking my time, letting the steam clear my head.
When I was done, I dressed casually: a loose black long-sleeve shirt with a few top buttons undone, showing part of my chest. Black trousers and rolled-up sleeves.
I opened the door slowly, finding Scarlett still asleep in the same position I'd left her.
Unbelievable. No wonder my men had managed to tie her up without her noticing. She slept like a log.
I walked closer and spoke coldly, "I didn't ask you to sleep."
She stirred slightly, then her eyes fluttered open. The shock and fear I saw in them made me smile.
"Mr. Grey," she mumbled, still groggy. "I'm truly sorry. I won't run away again."
Her voice was pitiful, but it didn't affect me. I enjoyed seeing others beg.
"Please do," I said with an evil smirk. "I already have your next punishment planned."
She kept apologizing, and eventually, I heard the sound of her crying.
What kind of girl is this?
"Shut up," I barked, silencing her instantly.
"I don't like people who make too much noise."
"I'm sorry. I won't make another sound," she promised, her voice trembling.
"Good..." I said, drawing out the word as I walked closer. "If you want me to release you, then you'll have to make me feel good."
A smile curved on my lips as I watched her reaction. She knew exactly what I meant.
"Mr. Grey," she whispered, her voice full of nervousness, "I swear, I don't know how to... make a man feel good."
I watched her carefully, wiping the smile from her face with one simple phrase.