Page 24 of At Your Mercy
“So how did your little playdate go, hm?”
My mouth went dry, and I picked at my nail beds. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t the right time.”
At that, Elias finally turned his head toward me, lips curving into a thin, condescending smile. “Not the right time.” He let the words roll in his mouth like they amused him. “Ronan, Ronan, Ronan. You sound like a child making excuses for forgetting his homework.”
Heat crept up my neck, anger and shame twisting in my gut. “I’m not making excuses—”
“Then what are you doing?” He cut in smoothly, voice sharp but quiet, like a parent scolding a kid in public. I looked away, jaw tight. I didn’t trust my voice not to crack.
Elias sighed, as if he were the one being inconvenienced, as if this were all just tedious housekeeping. He came closer,his hand brushing across the back of the couch behind me as he leaned down just enough that his cologne filled my lungs. “Youdoremember the plan, don’t you?” His tone dripped with condescension.
My teeth clenched. “Of course I remember.”
“Then remind me.”
My stomach twisted. “Seduce him and kill him.”
Elias let out an exasperated groan, then grabbed my hair, using his grip on the strands to yank my face back so I could look up at him.
“We literallyjustwent over this, boy.”
My chest tightened, fury prickling at the edges of my skin, but I forced myself still. I didn’t want him to see how easily he got under my skin.
“Elias,” I muttered, the name catching in my throat. “I—”
“You’re to ask him for helpescapingme, remember? It’s going to take some time after that to earn his trust and get closer to him. Fuck him a few times, maybe. Get him to let down his guard, then make the kill.” He shook my head around harshly before letting go of my hair and backhanding me. “Do I need tohelpyou remember? Or can I trust that you’ll stick to the plan moving forward?”
I sat frozen, fists pressed into my knees, pulse racing. The “help”he was talking about was something I’d rather die than experience again.
I answered quietly, “I’ll remember. I’m sorry. I won’t forget again.”
“You better not,” he hissed.
His words landed heavy in the small apartment, pressing down until I felt like the air itself was thinner. My cheek burned from the slap, the sting throbbing under my skin.
Elias’s expression softened in that patronizing way that always made my stomach twist. “There now,” he said smoothly,as if I were a misbehaving child who had finally quieted down. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”
I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, forcing my eyes to stay low. If I looked at him, he’d see too much—my shame, my anger, the way Wes’s voice echoed louder than his inside my head.
Elias crouched in front of me, perfectly balanced even in his expensive shoes, tilting his head like a patient parent. “You let yourself get… distracted. By what, hm? His age? His act? Or was it just the thrill of someone finally paying attention to you?” His smile was sharp, smug. “I can see why you’d be tempted. He’s exactly the type to scoop up strays and pretend it makes him noble.”
A flush crawled up my neck. “I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie.” His voice dropped low, cold enough to freeze the words in my throat. “I don’t even need to ask what happened. I already know.” He reached out, brushing his thumb over the edge of my jaw, the touch gentle in a way that felt worse than the slap. “He said something, didn’t he? Something that made you feel special. That it?”
I flinched back from his hand, shoulders tense. “N-no, it’s not like that.”
“Of course it is,” Elias said with a laugh that lacked warmth. “But don’t worry, that’s exactly what we want. Let him dangle his leash in front of you. Pretend to slip it around your neck. Let him think you belong to him. That’s how you’ll get close enough.” His voice went syrupy, coaxing, as if he were explaining a simple rule to a toddler. “You can manage that much, can’t you?”
My mouth was dry. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
My throat closed, but I forced the word out. “…Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” Elias’s smile widened, as if he’d reclaimed something Wes had stolen from him without even knowingit. He patted my cheek once, light but degrading, before straightening to his full height.
“Get some rest,” he said, already walking toward the door, his voice clipped and dismissive. “Tomorrow, you’ll be better. Tomorrow, you’ll remember who you answer to.”
