Page 59 of The Devil's Heir
I thanked him, and we made small talk before he had to leave me to see to a few things. He did tell me that a massage had been scheduled for this afternoon and that the rest of my wardrobe would be delivered today, but other than that, I'm on my own.
I've been left to my own devices. Left to wander aimlessly through the dark halls of the Falcon estate. Jarek never restricted me from doing so, and I'm going to take full advantage of it.
It's an older structure, with sconces lighting the corridors. Without windows, it gives it an eerie ambiance, and exploring each corridor gives me a sense of excitement and trepidation. It's almost as if the place is welcoming me to look into its past. My only worry is, what will I find in the Falcon family history?
The solitude is peaceful, and discovering other areas of the mansion is thrilling, to say the least. Room after room, I peek inside only to find yet another empty guest room. I do find another sitting room, entertainment room, and mini library on the floor we sleep on. The rooms are huge, but I feel as though they aren't big enough for the dimensions of the mansion. Something tells me that a house this old will have hidden rooms, but that's for another day.
When I get to the back of the house, I find a door with stairs leading up to another floor. It smells musty, and the dust layering the steps only confirms my thoughts; nobody has been up there for months, maybe years.
Glancing over my shoulder to be sure no one else is around, I climb the stairs. My heart thuds rapidly in my chest from the anticipation of what I might find. I shouldn't snoop, but what else am I supposed to do with my time?
As I reach the top, the air is thick, so I crack open the window to let some fresher air in. When I flip the switch to turn the lights on, I find yet another corridor. The sconces lining this one are dim and flicker. I assumed I was walking into an attic, but I waswrong.
I approach the first door and open it. It's scantily furnished, with just a twin-sized bed and a nightstand. Closing the door, I move to the next and find the same thing. Each room has a tiny bathroom and a closet.
There are five rooms on each side of the corridor, and when I get to the last one, I notice a latch where a padlock can be inserted at the top of the door. Looking back down the hall, I notice every door has the same thing. Chills run down my back, but I proceed with opening the last door.
This time, I entered the room. Now that I've seen the locks on each of the doors, I want to explore it thoroughly. Upon further examination, I find claw marks on the walls at the head of the bed, and when I move the thinly threaded blanket and pillow, I gasp.
Chains are anchored to the walls; there are three of them in total. Two on each end have wrist cuffs, and one in the middle has a larger cuff, more like a collar-type cuff. I move to the bottom of the bed and find two more for the ankles.
I back away from the bed, and my eyes land on the nightstand. With trembling hands, I open the drawer and find very old bottles of lube and older-looking plugs like the ones Jarek uses on me. There are other contraptions, but I have no idea what they are, and quite frankly, I don't want to.
My head turns toward the closet, and, ever so slowly, I move to it. My hands are sweaty. Most likely due to being nervous about what more I will find. When I open the door and pull the string for the bulb that hangs down. I find a much bigger space than what I thought I would. In fact, it's larger than the bedroom itself and filled with things that I know can be found in kink clubs. However, this furniture is much older and dust-covered.
There's a chest that calls out to me to open it, and I do, but wishing I hadn't. It's filled with whips, chains, restraints, and what I can only guess are toys, but they look so much more torturous than the ones I've seen.
A sick feeling comes over me, and I cover my mouth as I back out of the room. My scream fills the space when I bump into a rigid body, and hands grip my arms.
"Ah, pauper—I've been looking for you. I lost you on the cameras, and look—it seems you've been on a little field trip."
"W-what is this, Jarek?" I drop all pretenses and call him by his name.
Fuck the contract, and fuck him. Either he gives me an explanation or I'm out of here. I don't want to be part of whatever they do in this place.
Jarek spins me around to face him, and I can see the annoyance in his dark, luminous eyes. Damn, it doesn't matter how pissed I am at the man, his beauty takes my breath away every time. With his dark hair hanging down to his shoulders and his perfectly trimmed beard, he looks as if he could be on the cover of GQ.
"This, my little pauper, is the aftermath of my ancestor's sick perversions. It was something that every generational male partook in until my father and uncle's generation."
"What exactly did they do? Who did these rooms belong to?"
"I don't think you're ready to hear any of those answers, pauper." His eyes have taken on a bit of hardness, and his voice sounds unnaturally flat.
"Either give me an explanation, or I'm done. I'll go back to the streets, and you'll be out of an heir."
"Are you threatening me, Liliana?" he asks, slowly guiding me backward until I'm against the wall. His hand snakes up to my throat, adding just a trace of pressure.
"I'm not threatening you, Jarek. I'm giving you a choice. I've gone against my morals to be here, and I've agreed to your depraved contract. I deserve to know what the hell all this is and what it means for me."
"Your morals?" Jarek scoffs. "You agreeing to be here has nothing to do with morals. It has to do with you needing money, and as for my depraved contract…" he peruses my body, biting his bottom lip until his eyes meet mine again, and he adds, "You read it, and yet, you're still here. But tell me, pauper," he says, lowering his voice and leaning the hardness of his body into me. His hot breath tickles my ear and, in a thick, silky voice, asks, "Do you really hate how I make you feel when I'm inside of you? When I'm filling your pretty little cunt with my cock? Do you hate how I make you come and leave your body sated?"
I'm not sure how to answer any of what he's asking because, as much as I hate to admit it, I don't hate what he does to me. I just hate the person doing those things.
"You don't let me come every time…" It's all I can think of to say.
His malevolent snicker sounds in my ear just before he whispers, "That's because naughty girls don't get to come." He pulls back and reaches his other hand down to cup my sex. "I bet I can slide my hand inside your panties and find you wet for me."
It's my turn to scoff. "Of course I'm wet. I'm on my period, but you already know that."
