“Alexander, we are listening for her to cry out, but we can’t go in without risk.”
I was speeding towards my house in the centre of the city. I wove in and out of traffic, cursing the evening hour, the number of cars, the red lights, everything. My plans hung in balance. We were less than two days away from moving in on Sylvia, but it had to be done in such a way that the trail didn’t lead back to me. If Dylan found out that I was responsible, he would spook badly and as Jean-Luc had pointed out, he did still have resources. He could disappear before I could act. Worse, he could harm Bethany. People did dangerous things when they thought they had nothing to lose.
“The playroom is sound-proof,” I gritted out. “If Sylvia’s taken her in there, you won’t hear her scream.” Fuck. Fuck. “I’m driving as fast as I can,” I said, resigning myself to the crumbling of my plans. But I could not allow any more harm to come to Ellie. I had promised her I would keep her safe from Sylvia in Provence and I had broken my word. “But if I’m not there in fifteen minutes, go in.”
***
Fourteen minutes later, my car skidded to the sidewalk. Jean-Luc was pacing outside, his entire face set in lines of worry that eased into relief when he saw me. “Remember, don’t show your hand,” he cautioned me. “Get Sylvia out. Don’t make her suspicious. We’ll get her later.”
“If she’s hurt Ellie,” I said, “she does not live to see tomorrow. I don’t care what the consequences are.”
If Jean-Luc had a protest to make at that, he took one look at my face and wisely refrained from voicing it.
I took a deep breath and opened the front door. There was no sign of them on the main level. I headed upstairs, towards my playroom. Sylvia was perfectly capable of causing pain anywhere, but that room was the best equipped for Sylvia’s perverse pleasures. I took the stairs, two at a time and almost burst into the playroom, and the sight that confronted me almost caused me to snap.
Ellie was there, tied to a spanking bench. Her face was wet with tears. Her mouth stuffed with a too-large gag that should have never been used on her. Her ass was an angry red with bruises of deeper purple. Welt marks decorated her thighs and her shoulders. She was a bloody, bruised mess.
And Sylvia Anliker had done this to her.
“Sylvia,” I kept my voice light with effort. “You got started without me.”
She jumped guiltily, flushing as she met my gaze. “Don’t be mad, baby,” she purred. “I just wanted to play.”
I shook my head. “You know you aren’t allowed to play with Lori’s submissives, don’t you?” Again, it took real effort to keep the rage out of my voice. I wanted to grab Sylvia by the shoulders and slam her against the wall, again and again, until her body broke. I’d never felt such a desire to utterly destroy another human being as I did in that moment.
Jean-Luc was right. Angry was not a useful emotion for me to feel right now. I needed to be as cold as ice for what needed to be done next.
“Now,” I chided. “I’ve got to stay and clean this up,” I gestured to my sweet Jenny, “when what I really wanted to do was take you out to dinner.”
“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes. “You are too soft on your toys, Alexander. Just untie the cunt and let’s go out?” She pouted. “There’s no fight in her. Boring.”
Ellie wanted Dylan. She wanted revenge. Of course she wouldn’t have fought back. She couldn’t risk exposing her cover story.
My heart ached in my chest for the unnecessariness of it all. Why didn’t you just be honest with me, bright star? I wanted to cry out. We were on the same side. We could have made it work together.
But she wasn’t the only one who had hugged her secrets close to her chest. I still hadn’t told her mine. I was too much of a coward.
“Tell you what,” I told Sylvia. “Why don’t you go get changed into something… sexier… and I’ll meet you at your apartment in a few minutes? I’ll bring the champagne.” I smiled at her, the fond smile of someone so much in love that he could neglect to notice the weeping girl next to him. “You’ve been away for too long. I’ve missed you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I like the sound of that,” she cooed. “Okay.” She winked at me. “I’ll be in my bathtub,” she said. “Perhaps you can soap my back.”
“Give me fifteen minutes,” I responded. Fifteen minutes and Jean-Luc would have her.
I ushered her out of the front door, needing to make sure she had left my house. Never again would she set foot inside my home. When the door shut, I sent Jean-Luc a text. “Make it happen.”
Then, my heart in my mouth, I went to tend to Ellie.
***