Chapter 8

Fear gripped Emily. She'd messed with James again. What would William do if he found out? Would her grandfather get dragged into this too? "James... please..." Tears slid down her cheeks. He stepped back, avoiding her tears like they disgusted him. "Game over. Get lost." "Wait!" Emily lunged forward, clutching his leg, eyes pleading. "James, can we just talk? Please, just leave the Andersons out of this—" He raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you have to offer?" Gripping the hem of his pants like she was drowning and he was the last straw, she stammered, "Anything you want. Just... spare my family." He agreed to see her—he had to want something. She was banking everything on that. His gaze stayed razor-sharp and cold as he smirked. "Spare your family? Fine. Entertain me." "...What?" She stared at him, blank. Her hands slipped away in a daze. "You said it yourself—anything." His shoe nudged her chest, sliding over soft flesh with slow, deliberate pressure. His grin was twisted but hollow, eyes like ice. He wasn't flirting—he was toying with her. Just like women in those shady clubs, selling themselves for leverage. She flinched back but couldn't escape. Her heart bled with shame. "Not willing? Think of your family. Think of your grandfather. You think Daniel can protect you from me?" His tone sharpened, and his foot pushed harder. She bit her lip, staring up at him. Of course he'd known all along. He planned this—to humiliate her, control her. The sting in her chest grew unbearable. Straightening up slowly, she forced the words out. "...Whatever you want." He hooked a leg behind her neck, pulling her between his knees. “Don't drag your feet,” he said lazily. Her trembling hand reached for his belt. She was shaking so badly it took forever, and he didn't lift a finger to help. Just stared, burning holes through her. Finally, she unlaced it. Biting her lip, she reached for the zipper. Her fingers brushed something scalding hot. She jerked back, but his grip forced her hand in place. "Need me to show you how to undress me?" She flinched under his voice, lashes fluttering. Her fear? It only fed his control. His hand moved up and seized her chest, kneading cruelly. She whimpered at the pain but didn't resist, sliding his pants down at last. Then he shoved her head down—hard. He filled her mouth, and the pressure sent hot tears spilling over her cheeks. She barely kept up, sobbing softly as his clothes darkened from wet streaks. When he finally released her, she collapsed on the floor, lips swollen and red. But he wasn't done. "If you don't want this, get lost." Her body shook. She knew all too well—he had no patience, but his thirst for revenge? Limitless. If she walked now, the fallout would ruin her family—her grandfather. And that? That she couldn't risk. She wiped her tears, then leaned in again, this time without a word. He leaned down, voice low, biting at her ear. "Emily... what a whore. Did you kneel like this for Daniel too?" She shut her eyes tight, ignoring him, stifling the shame. "Look. See how he's enjoying the show?" He yanked her hair, forcing her gaze toward the door. Her eyes met a pale, horrified face— Daniel.