Trapped in his End Game (Series)

A book sits on his stomach as he lounges in his chair. I sit nearby, pretending to watch TV. Every so often, his gaze flicks over his book to check on me.

I know what he’s doing. He sits there day after day, watching me, never letting me out of his sight no matter what. He’s everywhere.

His eyes follow me as I leave the living room. Even when he’s not in sight, I can feel his presence. In desperation, I turn towards the door.

Maybe if I just leave right now.

If I’m really quiet.

Maybe.

I don’t even have shoes on, but I’m grateful for that because I’m much more silent on the floor. I reach out and grab the brass doorknob.

A thick arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back into his chest. I scream, already on edge.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, nuzzling my ear.

The scream becomes a shuddering whimper. His lips find the sensitive area right under my ear. I shut my eyes, willing myself not to feel pleasure, not to enjoy it.

But I do.

I’m powerless against the feelings he gives me. Just a graze of his fingers on my neck is enough to make me limp. I’m pushed against the wall gently as his body covers mine. His hot mouth descends over mine.

“I asked you a question.”

The hint of a smile in his voice makes me pause. I don’t know if this is one of his games, or whether he’s serious.

“I wanted to leave. Just for a little bit.”

“Where? I’ll take you.”

“Don’t you trust me?” I ask, gazing into his warm eyes.

He gives me a wry grin, tapping my shoulder with his finger. “Ah, don’t make me tie you up. You won’t be able to handle how much I’d enjoy that.”

Abandoning all pretenses, I shove his chest and walk back towards the living room. There’s no escaping him. No way I can manipulate or trick him.

But my heart feels differently.

“This is your apartment, too. You can do whatever the fuck you want in here. You just can’t leave without me. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

He shoves his hands deep inside his pockets. “The boss doesn’t trust you. What you saw at Nicky’s game-” he shakes his head.

“What about you? Do you trust me?” I edge up to him as he gazes down at me with a mixture of warmth and uncertainty.

“Not yet.” He says it apologetically.

A tiny sting of hurt threatens tears. “This relationship will go nowhere unless there’s trust. I hope you realize that,” I snap.

His palm brushes my face and I see his resolve crumbling. Vince hates doing this to me. “I hate seeing you so upset.”

“That makes two of us,” I say dully.

It still doesn’t change the fact that he’s keeping me in here.

Stalking to the kitchen, I reach up into the cupboards only to find that there are locks on the doors. Revolving on the spot, I glare at Vincent who stands in front of me with his arms crossed.

“What the hell is this?”

“You drink too much. Desperate measures.”

I turn back around and yank on the doors. If I don’t have a drink, how am I supposed to sleep at night? How am I supposed to forget all the things I saw? I scream and pound them with my fists.

“That’s enough!”

He tries to take my shoulder, but I slap his hand away and run to the bedroom. There are no locks in this place. I can’t even keep him out of the room.

I want to seize the lamp on his nightstand and smash the window, but it’s the quadruple-bullet-proof-paned type and it glances off like I just gave it a love tap.

Vince grabs it before I can try again and twists it out of my grasp. All the humor is gone from his face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re trying to control me by keeping me in this fucking box!”

“No, I’m not!” he yells. “If you want to get out of this place, let’s go! We can do whatever you want!”

“Only if you allow it,” I spit. “I can’t even get a fucking drink without your approval now.”

Glowering at me, he sets the lamp back down and takes my shoulders in his hands. “If I let you drink whenever you wanted, you would drink yourself to death. That’s what you’re doing-drinking yourself to an early grave. I love you. I want to help you.”

“I didn’t have this fucking problem before!”

But even I know that’s a lie.

“Oh, really? Because I seem to remember you getting wasted after your first day working for me.”

I let out a frustrated scream.

His face softens. “I’m not judging you, Adriana. God knows, I would probably do the same if I were you. I am trying to do the right thing here.”

“Because that would be the first fucking time!”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

As soon as I’ve said it, I know I’ve crossed over some invisible line. Vince’s eyes narrow as a dangerous smile spreads across his face.

“You have some fucking mouth on you. Sometimes it really pisses me off, but most of the time it makes me want to fuck your brains out.”

He shoves me on the bed. Angrily, I sit up, but he shoves me back down.

The awful sound of his belt slipping from his jeans fills my heart with dread, and at the same time my stomach leaps with excitement.

I scramble away from him on the bed. “No.”

“Those aren’t the magic words,” he grins.

Grabbing my ankle, he yanks me closer to the edge of the bed and makes short work of my clothing. It’s been so long since he’s touched my skin that I can feel my core heating like a furnace just from his fingers sweeping over my skin. A delirious hunger consumes his body as he touches my breasts, fondling them as he kisses me so hard and long I feel like I might pass out. He kisses my stomach as he removes my panties and then he takes the belt, wrapping it around my throat. He pulls hard, tightening with his hand so that it’s uncomfortably snug.