He sat up and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Not likely with the half foot of snow outside,” an irritated snarl curled her lips.

“Like that’s my fault?” He stood and turned his face to the window to see a complete white out.

“You didn’t know a storm was coming?” she continued to glare at him.

For a moment, he wondered what kind of storm she was referring to. “No. Did you?”

“Who was that woman?” she abruptly changed the subject.

So that’s what this was about. Jealousy.

An unintentional smile curved his lips upward, visibly infuriating her. “The way you reacted with Emily and…

Her rage simmered. “So she is another chapter.”

“Elsa,” he leaned into her but she pulled away.

“Are you just tying up loose ends with her, too?” She stood and moved to other side of the room. “Picking up where you left off in the game with her? Making threats and promises to her?”

“Are you done?” he asked sternly before continuing his interrupted statement. “First of all: I didn’t invite her here. She showed up. I shouldn’t have to explain myself, but the way you acted the night of your birthday with that man and now finding out who that woman is… where the hell do you get off being jealous when you have a fiancé waiting for you at home? And where the fuck was he last night when you were being attacked?”

“My fiancé has nothing to do with this. And I’m not jealous,” she rebuked a little too vehemently. “Jealousy would imply that I care and I. Don’t. Care.”

Her mouth said one thing, but her body language and eyes said something completely different. He watched her closely, all her slight movements and breathing patterns; the way her eyes caressed his body…

She was falling for him again, despite the fact that she was engaged. Or maybe in spite of the fact. He hadn’t anticipated this little glitch in the game. On some level he had hoped for it, even if he couldn’t admit it before. But now faced with it, he became thrilled at the prospect of winning her heart again and stealing her away from that man.

“If not jealousy, then what?” He crossed his arms over his chest, daring her to try and deny what was obvious to him. Her eyes darted around the room nervously, only confirming what he had already concluded. “You’re falling for me,” he whispered, making her body stiffen.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Swiftly, he stood and cut the distance between them, yanking her into his arms. Holding her tightly with one arm around her waist and the other hand firmly holding her jaw, he ghosted his lips against hers. “Tell me you love me.”

“Never,” she thrashed against him.

“Say it. Tell me, Goddamn it.” He needed to hear the words he had let slip out of his hands so easily before.

“I won’t…” her movements became more frantic and her breathing ragged.

“You said you would do anything I asked…” he growled against her ear when she turned her face away.

“Not that. I won’t do that.”

“You said it once before. What’s the difference?”

“I meant it then,” she panted. “And you threw it back in my face…” He had and every moment since then, he regretted it... “You’ll never hear me say it again, especially after what you had that man do to me last night!”

Her words and tone made him loosen his grip on her. “What did you say?”

Her face reddened and she backed away from him. “You heard me.”

The loud grinding of teeth cut through the silence in the room as she fought to even out her breathing. Confused by her hostility and statement, he took a step toward her.

“Is winning the game so important to you that you would plan out an attack on me just so you could save me to make me think you care?” Disgust and hurt lined her voice.

She had spoken so quietly, he almost didn’t hear her. He wished he hadn’t. She might as well have struck him. He wished she had. At least he knew how to respond to that kind of insult.

His voice rumbled like distant thunder when he answered her venomous accusation. “If you think for one fucking second that I would stoop so low as to put you in physical danger, then this game is over and I don’t give a shit who takes the title of winner.”

Her stare was cold as death and her response dripped with spite. “You did it once before. What’s the difference?” she mocked.

She was right.

Her defenses were high and seemingly impenetrable, and he was to blame. Just like Emily, his previous actions against her had made her paranoid and unable to rationalize things logically. But dropping her off at some counselor’s office to deal with the havoc he had wreaked on her life like he had done with Emily, wasn’t an option. Elsa was his responsibility and it was his job to deal with the mess he had made. He was accountable for all the lives he had fucked up, most especially Elsa’s since he had demanded she play his game again.

He stepped nearer to her, closing the space between them until he could whisper and be heard. “Tell me how I can prove to you that I would never do anything to hurt you again.”

He braced himself for the brazenness of her demand, but wasn’t prepared for her quick response.

“Tell me how you got that scar.”

16: Surrender

Elsa marched down the stairs to the living room with Victor close behind. She reached for the treasure chest of bondage equipment that now had permanent residency on the mantel, and handed it to him. He looked relieved, but bitter. She had thrown down the gauntlet. Would he accept her challenge or prove to her that Mr. Black was every bit as ruthless as she had suspected?

A little too casually, he began unclothing her, his fingers unhooking the buttons of her blouse and jeans at a painstakingly slow rate. It was obvious he was prolonging the inevitable. However, she had all the time in the world. She would even miss work the next day if she had to. The world outside had already stopped because of the crippling amount of snow and she wasn’t going anywhere.

Thrust once again into darkness, speechlessness and immobility, Elsa waited.

Sounds. Only sounds. There was nothing else to grasp onto. A current of air whistling past the window. The bark of a dog in the distance. A snow plow loudly rumbling down the street. But no words. Nothing. Only Victor’s breathing and occasional paced footsteps and a faint whiff of his cologne. The opening of the front door and coolness filling the room. The closing of the door. Silence. Minutes… The opening of the door again and frigid winter air blowing all around her and the odor of cigarette smoke.

Music. A passionate female voice was singing about salvation. Haunting lyrics… I never meant to fall for you… but I was buried underneath and all I could see was white… My Salvation… My, My…

Is this how he felt? Was this part of the game? God, she was so sick of the ceaseless, repetitive questions in her mind. She just wanted the truth from him... to trust him... She just wanted this fucking game to be over with and to be free from Mr. Black.

Her jaw began to ache and she fought the impending migraine that was jabbing at her frontal lobe. She stretched out as best she could and rolled her neck.

Warm hands on her body. A quick massage of her shoulders. A blanket around her shoulders. Manipulation of her limbs and more massaging. Victor.

An hour had passed. She knew the time because she heard the chirp of her phone in the next room reminding her to text Nick.

Another long period of time of silence interspersed with beautiful, but unfamiliar music.

More powerful lyrics… I fell in love with you long before I knew what it meant to give everything up… I was a rolling stone, rolling my way along until you came and made sense out of everything… But you couldn’t wait… I couldn’t promise you anything…