Claimed

ALEXIA GREEN. 

“Then make a choice, sweetheart. Nothing’s for free in this world if your loyalty can be bought by quick sex. Walk back to Demetri, crawl back to his 

sheets or come to me where your life will be a living hell after this. No rainbows, no privileges, no unicorns just me and my demands. And you 

want to hear one of the demands I’ll dish out to 

you when you crawl back to me? I want you to 

scrub that man off you and afterward? I expect you on my bed, naked, prim and proper for me. to take. Make a choice, nurse.” 

I did not sleep with Demetri. 

My hair is a tangled mess because I have spent almost an hour trying to wrap my mind around your sister’s confessions. My hair’s a mess because I have been running my fingers over my scalp trying to decipher what’s what. 

I can not leave you because your sister begged me to stick around in exchange for paying whatever Rhett owes you back. 

But Rhett didn’t just take money from you, did 

he? 

He took your sister. The only thing that mattered. 

to you and you want to know something? 

Catelina is alive. 

You don’t have to live like this because your sister 

is alive. 

I should say all that but I promised Kat I wasn’t going to ruin whatever relationship she had with 

Demetri. 

I’m to the point of exhaustion and tears when I interlink my hands with a steaming furious. 

Volkov. 

na 

I try to swallow my emotions and put on a brave 

face. 

“Let’s go….home.” 

I give myself up like a pig stuffed with an apple to the mouth on a silver platter to this man. 

From the coolness of the gun in his hand, and the tight hold his fingers grip mine, I know that tonight is going to end up badly. 

As he puts his gun back to where it was behind his pants, orders Maximo to bring Millie home and yanks my left wrist so painfully, a few burning questions plague my mind. 

Why am I tolerating this? 

Why am I allowing this to happen to me? 

Because of Rhett? Because he murdered an 

innocent girl that I feel guilty of? Because I think 1 can do what Catelina asked me of and heal this man? 

I heal wounds. 

This man isn’t wounded, no he is scarred and the difference between wounds and scars is wounds. heal, scars linger and fester and mess with your body in all sorts of ways. 

Scars can’t be healed. 

His dark vehicle is already awaiting us by the time. we exit the restaurant. 

Volkov doesn’t even tip the valet as he yanks his car keys, walks me to the side of the passenger door, opens the door for me and I hop in, 

A second later he gets into the car, hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, he starts driving. 

All the while I look at my left wrist which has already turned red. 

I try not to sob. 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. 

Oh God. 

A tear falls down my cheek and I wipe it away. only for another bout of fresh tears to attack me out of nowhere. 

He doesn’t even look my way. 

He doesn’t hand me a tissue. 

He just sits there, drives, jaw locked, eyes. emotionless. 

While I, pathetically crying, wanting to say so much but being restrained by my promise to his 

sister. 

‘I don’t open my doors for traitors. I don’t protect those who double–cross me.‘ 

I remember his words and they sound like getting 

a shot of acid to my ears. 

If he thinks I’m a traitor for hanging out with Demetri that means he trusted me in the first 

place. 

This man who has been brooding, seeking revenge after his sister’s death, let me into his life and trusted me and now that trust is broken? 

“Christian-.” 

“Don’t.” 

His voice cuts mine down before I can even go 

further. 

So, for the next fifteen minutes, I look out the window and hide my tears. 

I swallow down the bitterness and accept my fate. 

My fate comes in the form of a grand hotel with gleaning windows, a height that of a skyscraper 

and a luxurious logo that says ‘Davenport‘ and screams expensive hotel. 

This isn’t home. 

I don’t get to voice out my discovery because Volkov unbuckles his seat belt and hops out of the 

car. 

The next time I see him, he’s standing just outside my car window illustrating with his finger for me 

to hop out. 

I open the door. 

His cologne, damp air, the smell of rain hits me 

face first. 

We don’t exchange words. 

He slams the door behind me shut, once more. taking my wrist and dragging me around to wherever he sees fit. 

“Mr. Volkov, welcome to Davenport. It’s been quite some time; can I interest you in-.” 

“No“, Vicious dismisses the receptionist so fast, I almost flinch at the word ‘no‘ on her behalf. 

Her eyes fall on me and she gives me a look of pity and awe. 

Couple minutes later, Vicious and I are standing in an elevator as he presses ‘P‘ on one of the 

buttons. 

B 

The tension inside is enough to drown a fish. The rattling in my chest is enough to drown out the sound of a moving freight train. 

The look in his eyes is enough to incinerate everything around us and leave ash in its wake. 

And yet? 

I obey. 

For the first time since I met this man, I obey because I get to see the man who calls himself my 

boss, my debt collector, my master. 

And this master has the very intent to do 

everything bad his twisted mind thinks of and the silly thing going on in my mind is? 

If he does this, will he not be angry with me anymore? If he does this, will he revert back to being the Christian that held me in that shower, the Christian that held me on the couch in Russia, 

the Christian that…. 

The elevator doors part, Christian walks in with 

me and the room inside is so breathtaking I would have had time to gawk if it wasn’t his own version of a slaughterhouse. 

Low hanging lights that look like they are made of cedar, a built–in kitchen by the side that doesn’t take too much space to make everything look like it’s squeezed in, the living room which is farther inside and looks like a lunge room with 

the light from glass–floor windows dazzling it with a modern country feel. 

And the windows? I have a feeling if there weren’t stormy grey nimbus clouds, they’d give a spectacular view of the sunrise and sunset. 

The spiral stairs leading to whatever it’s upstairs are also made with wood and attached to the 

red–bricked wall that houses a few ornaments. 

Christian steps into the room. 

My wrist in his hand, I walk behind him matching his lengthy strides. Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

He only lets go when he sits on the couch, eyes. zeroing in on me and turning bland like there’s nothing interesting he sees about me. 

An action that stings but I suck it up. Suck it up 

like a buttercup, Lexy. 

“Strip.” 

The word is delivered coolly. 

But the impact it has on me? 

It shatters and completely rearranges my insides. 

Hands reaching out to my back for the zip to my dress. I drag it down. 

The dress gets stuck around my waist where my hips start to bulge and I pull it down completely letting it fall to the ground and pool around my 

L 

feet. 

“The bra and panties go too, Mrs. Kingston. You’ve already done it with Demetri, I shouldn’t have to tell you what to do,” 

The words keep on coming and coming- 

Each word stronger than the last. 

Every bit of venom spitting from his mouth, punches my inside one punch after the other. 

I take my bra off. 

Thunder growls behind me and I almost jump. 

I shimmer my way out of my panties. Every piece of my clothing falls to the ground. Every piece of me spiraling down with it. 

I’m naked and bare to him. 

Standing like a prized good and nothing more. 

“Remember what I said if you made the choice to come work for me for reasons, I have no clue about? Bathroom’s upstairs in the master bedroom, the one with the big bed, you can’t miss it. Scrub every place he touched off of you, scrub that man’s filth from what’s mine. When you are done, I want you in the middle of that bed, waiting for me like how a good little slave does for his master. Do you hear me, Mrs. 

Kingston?” 

Crystal fucking clear. 

“Y–yes.” My betraying voice cracks. 

Christian dismisses me like a dog. 

My unsteady feet lead me upstairs. 

I find the master bedroom alright. 

I also find the bathroom equipped with every type of body wash there is. 

I step into the shower cabinet; I scrub myself clean of his touch. 

But instead of Demetri’s touch? 

I wipe myself of Christian’s touch knocking myself over and over for feeling like this. 

For feeling like his indifference bothers me. 

When I’m clean everywhere, I pick the towel. from one of the racks and I dry myself. 

I hang the towel back to the little hooks once I’m 

done. 

Like I was commanded, my shaking hand finds. 

the doorknob and the sound of heavy rain echoes. 

from outside. 

Opening the door feels like I’m hammering myself down to the ground. 

Time to sit on the bed and wait for him, I guess. 

Expecting to find the bed empty, Christian ist already seated at the edge of the mattress, his eyes graze every inch of me and instead of the 

fire I saw the other night in them, I see nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

He doesn’t call me to where he is seated. 

My feet take a mind of their own and walk to 

him. 

I don’t even question what I’m doing when I sit on his lap and I feel his cold hands; the very edge of his fingertips sinking into the line on my back. 

You wanted me like this? 

Here I am, do your worst.