Page 19 of Emperor of Corruption
“I amtryingto getawayfrom you,” I snap. “I amnotinterested in you. I havezerodraw to you. I understand perfectly well that there isn’tshitI can do about the night of the gala and itinfuriatesme. I get that you’re bigger, badder, and more powerful. I’m not disputing that. You can have that fucking win, and I hope it leaves as foul a taste in your mouth as it does in mine. I don’t want to play your games or earnanythingfrom you—I just want toleave.”
Killian leans back, appraising me for several moments. “Do you actually think your opinion holds any relevance here? I thought I’d just illustrated Ialwaysget what I want.”
“What the helldoyou want?” I cry. I’m beyond measuring my words; try as I did to keep my composure, Ican’t.Not trapped in a room with this psychopath.
“That changes often,” Killian says with a shrug. “Right now? You. Don’t worry, it’ll pass. I expect I’ll get bored before the eight weeks are up, but until then…” another shrug. “You seem to think that not engaging will make me lose interest, but you’re wrong. The best way toget me off your back is give me what I want and wait for me to move on. Stonewalling me only makes me push harder.”
“Why?” I snap. “Why me? I’m not your enemy—”
“You’re not strong enough to be my enemy,” Killian agrees.
“I’m not your rival, I’m not even big enough fish to be on your radar. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You got what you wanted from me the night of the gala; I have made itpainfullyclear that I don’t want to spend time with you or give you anything else.”
“That’s what makes it fun,” Killian says. “You’re perhaps the only woman I’ve encountered in the last several years whodoesn’twant me. The reasons why the others want me aren’t particularly seductive—they desire my money, power, and last name.You,however, couldn’t care less about those things. They repel you instead of enticing you. Like I said, novelty.”
“If I start swooning over you, will that get you toleave me alone?”
“Maybe.” Killian’s brows furrow. “Maybe not. You could always give it a try.”
“I don’t want to give anything atry, I want toleave,” I emphasize. “Let me out of here,please.”
“No, but thank you for asking so nicely. For future reference, I enjoy it when you’re less bitchy and more polite.”
“I’m not polite by nature; I’m a bitch.”
“I don’t believe you.” Killian braces his elbow on the armrest of his chair and leans his hand on his chin. “See, I think that there’s a sweet side of you, but it’s buried beneath layers of trauma.”
I blink, startled by his assessment. Even more startled by the fact that he’s not entirely wrong. I could refute it, but that would only draw out this argument, and I want to minimize the time I spend in his vicinity.
“What do I need to do to get out of this room?” I question.
“Sit down and answer my questions. Participate in whatever that leads to. Then, you’re free to go.” Killian pauses. “I’m sure I don’t need to reiterate this, but talking to anyone about what happens in here—trying to spread the truth—won’t work. I dictate what the truth is. At best, you’ll be discredited and pitied for your misconceptions; at worst, you’ll be fired and lauded as the woman who decided to spread lies.”
“I don’t need your fucking threats,” I snap.
“Good. Then I won’t have to keep reiterating them.Sit. Down.”
Once again, I’m left with no choice. The door is locked; I’m trapped here. The sooner I give Killian what he wants, the faster I get out of here.
Compartmentalize.Put all the trauma in a box and use it as fuel.
It’s in this moment that I decide; Killian won’t see me coming. I can’t escape his depravity, but Iwillget back at him for what he’s doing. He’ll think he’s cowing me, and in some ways, he will be… but every time he ignores my consent, every bit of pain he inflicts will be repaid tenfold.
I don’t know how I’ll destroy him, but I’ll find a way.
I sink back into my chair, drop my bag beside me, and fold my hands in my lap. Killian nods in approval, taking his time looking me over.
“Is your wardrobe limited, or did you think dressing like an imbecile would put me off?” he asks.
“The latter.”
“For future reference, that won’t work. If you can’t afford to dress appropriately, I’ll have my personal shopper pick up some things for you.”
“I don’t need your clothes or your money.”
Killian looks somewhat disappointed by my retort. “Please don’t tell me you subscribe to the ridiculous notion that the value of money inflates or deflates depending on the source it comes from.”
“I don’t think a blood-soaked dollar bill is worth less than a clean dollar bill at the grocery store, but I’d rather not have the bloody one in my wallet.”
