Page 62 of His Twisted Game
Another text vibrated on his phone and his facial expression shifted again, back to that fury. Why did work disturb him like that?
He exited the room, making a phone call, then returned. I itched my cheeks; the come was unpleasantly dry now, but I didn’t wipe it off. I wanted to see how long he would make me keep it there. He sighed, his face full of pleasure as he took me in. His fingertips grazed my cheek.
“I can’t take you back to the library,” he said. “But my driver can take you back home.”
He must have had work to do, then. “What about my car?” I asked.
“It’s been taken care of,” he said. “Another car is parked in your complex. One that doesn’t require any extra maintenance to drive.”
“Sawyer,” I started, but he put up a hand.
“If you can’t get to work, then how can I use you?”
Use me?Did he mean sexually, or as an employee? I let those words sink in. I loved being his plaything, his toy.
But buying me a car? I had to mean more to him.
I wanted to be more than that.
He nodded at the door. “Finish up, and my driver will take you home.”
CHAPTER 14
Sawyer
A new recruit had given us information on how to find Roth, but by the time I left Fiona at the restaurant, Roth had moved on. We needed to find him; it was crucial to dismantling his company. But since we had no new leads, I was itching to see Fiona again.
That next afternoon, I immediately went to her apartment, driving myself. Her new car was gone, but she was supposed to be off from the library.
Where are you?I sent the message, waiting for those three dots to indicate that she was typing. Finally, they appeared.
At the library,she sent.
I sent back a question mark, waiting for her explanation.
Gotta beat my rival one way or another,she responded.
I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. When it came to what she wanted, Fiona wasn’t simply smart; she was also stubborn and ambitious. A day off didn’t mean relaxation; it meant that she had things to accomplish. It had been like that since I first started watching her. And that was the fire that I enjoyed messing with so much. I had wanted to ruin her. To make her question why she tried anything. I wanted to teach her how none of her worries actually meant anything. It wasn’t the kindness of helping people that mattered like she so desperately believed. The only control that mattered was power over others.
But that desire for power didn’t seem as strong anymore. It seemed… off.
Perhaps that was because I hadn’t taken control of Fiona yet. But once I did, everything would fall back into place.
By the time I got to the library, she was still messing with the encrypted file. It was pride; she didn’t want to ask anyone, including me, for help, because that would admit defeat. But what she needed was another mind. Someone else to work with. To see things from a different angle.
“You’re stuck,” I said. Her shoulders sank. I settled into the seat beside her. “Part of success is knowing when you can’t win by yourself,” I continued. “And knowing when you need to ask for help.”
“Do you ever ask for help?” she asked, her words blunt.
“No.” She rolled her eyes and I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. “But I also don’t set myself up for failure. When I look at my family’s business, I see exactly what each person is capable of.”
“And what am I capable of?”
There were so many ways to answer that question. Building her up, telling her the truth—that she was strong and ambitious, that there wasn’t much in this world that could stop her—was what she wanted to hear right then. And I wanted to tell that to her.
But she needed the whole truth, not just the good parts.
“You were never going to be a doctor,” I explained. “You set yourself up to fail. You were never going to follow through with it.”
