Page 49 of Save Me
“I find you very intimidating, Oliver,” I finally reply, “and a bit of an enigma. You are obviously attractive, powerful, and wealthy, yet you’re blackmailing a seventeen-year-old girl into marrying you.”
“That’s a very good answer, Beth,” he says before slurping back some of his wine. “Perhaps I should give you a little bit more information, one of my snippets. What would you like to know?”
“I would like to know more about my grandmother!” I reply instantly, almost cutting him off before he’s even finished the question. “You seem to know a lot more about her than either my father or I do. What does she have to do with you?”
He smiles sadistically as he swirls the crimson-colored wine around in his glass for a moment or two. He looks as though he’s enjoying having this information over me and is wondering whether he should let go of it yet. In fact, his reaction has my whole-body slumping with disappointment, believing that he’s not going to answer me at all. However, he eventually shoots that penetrating glare of his back at me, so I brace myself with the first bit of enthusiasm since arriving here.
“Your grandmother’s last name was Bennett. The Bennett family have been long-standing members of Mayfield for centuries. However, she is also a descendent of the Boone family. Abraham Boone was one of the founders of Mayfield, alongside Julian Steele, from whom your grandfather is a descendent. Boone died without a male heir, so the family was effectively forced out of leadership, but still very important to the Mayfield organization. Rosalie, your grandmother, was betrothed to a man named Carl Steele, and together they were seen as a power couple. Your grandmother effectively made way for him to reach the top position to run the organization, to be a president as it were. It’s true Carl Steele was not a particularly nice man to Rosalie, but he was infatuated with both her name and beauty. Her father more than agreed to the match and they were married as soon as she turned sixteen. She gave birth to your father two years later. You will see that all Mayfield men have a feather marked onto their wrist when they are born.”
“How do they…actually, I don’t want to know,” I reply with wince over the thought of how they must brand newborn babies. “Please continue.” He grins darkly, as though having guessed at what I was about to ask.
“Mayfield women are marked with a small leaf shape,” he explains, “it’s how our children will be marked.” I almost choke on my food when he says this, but he merely smiles. He is clearly enjoying my shock and horror over it all.
“Anyway, Rosalie did what no other member of Mayfield has ever managed to do before; she got out. She got away with your father when she was pregnant and remained hidden until my father met your father at a business conference. My father and I already had intel from a hidden source about your family’s existence, and with a little light digging, we knew exactly where to look. Finding out that Rosalie had a granddaughter of your age was like striking gold. You see, the Lawrence family are also descendants of a founding member, Raphael Lawrence. With the Steele and Lawrence bloodlines finally united, as well as Boone, I am almost guaranteed to win the position of president.”
He pauses to look over my thoroughly confused expression; how did my family not know we were part of such a history? I have only considered myself as ‘normal’, if not completely uninteresting. And yet, I am now being told I am descended from several bloodlines that had started this whole mystery Mayfield hundreds of years ago.
“Besides, what better way to prove my ability to rule than to bring back the grandchild of the woman who got away? Where Steele had failed to locate your exact location, we succeeded with our background in computers. When we informed your grandfather of our discovery, he was practically chomping at the bit to give me the top position.”
“And if I pull out? If I decide it’s not worth all this Mayfield…stuff?” I ask him, even though I already know the answer is going to terrify me.
“Then I will have no choice but to persuade you in other ways,” he replies. He slowly takes a sip of his wine, the image of which makes him resemble an evil-looking vampire just before he sinks his teeth into the unsuspecting virgin’s neck. “I decided you were mine long before your father gambled away his life’s work. That was just a convenient way in.” I swallow hard at the same time as I lose my grip on the glass inside of my trembling hand, leaving it to fall and shatter into pieces on the parquet flooring. Scarily, Oliver completely ignores it to keep his threatening gaze on me. “Like I said, Beth, you do not leave Mayfield; at least, not alive.”
I breathe out long and hard to try and stop the bile that is currently swirling violently around inside of my stomach. All breath has escaped my body and as I watch Oliver stand and walk over to me, I begin to feel woozy, like I could pass out at any second. Slowly, he leans over my chair, engulfing me with his body so that his face is mere inches away from mine. He smiles, baring his teeth like a predator might do when he knows he’s won, and brushes away a few loose tendrils of my hair. It’s threatening, and by no means affectionate.
“You have no need to fear me, Beth,” he says softly, though it still sends an icy chill down my spine. “So long as you do as I say. I will love you, be faithful to you, and look after you like you deserve to be looked after.” His words offer little comfort, and I eye him wearily, bracing myself for when he’s going to turn. “But if you cross me, my darling girl,” he says as he suddenly grips hold of my hand, “I.Will.Punish.You!”
All I can do is nod, anything to stop him from looking at me the way he is. His icy blue eyes, beautiful like the ocean, have me feeling nothing but abject fear. It is no doubt a look that he has been schooled in how to give from a young age. He pulls me up with such speed I gasp. The sound I emit is soon extinguished by his mouth smothering mine in what resembles a kiss, only it feels much more aggressive.
He leads me along the room and toward the staircase, making me all the more nervous over what he has intended for me this afternoon. His words of warning have told me he will not stand for disobedience, which only cements the fact that I am pretty much at his mercy. If I try to fight him on this, I know he’s going to dig his heels in deeper, if only to teach me that he is very much the alpha here.
“Does Mr Steele know I am with you right now?” I ask, deciding a change of subject may sway him against anything heinous.
“He does,” Oliver replies without even turning to face me, “he is more than happy about our match and can’t wait to meet you when he returns home from Europe. As soon as he heard he had a granddaughter, he was already looking for a potential partner for you, Beth. It was between myself and another descendent, but when I informed him that we had found you, I no longer had any competition.”
“When did he hear about my existence?” I ask, it now occurring to me that a perfect stranger has been organizing my life from behind closed doors; a man I’ve never even met before. “And who else was lined up to be a ‘potential partner’ for me?”
Before he opens the insidious-looking entrance to the main bedroom, he turns and cups my face, all the while smiling deviously. He looks as though he’s challenging me to say something else. Instead, I bite my lips together, keeping my tongue firmly within my mouth.
“Rest assured, between the two of us, you were given the better choice…the safer choice!”
His words of reassurance do nothing to soothe my rapidly beating heart, nor my trembling fingers. I am pulled inside of the room, where he practically drags me to the end of the bed and begins kissing me hard, reaching his tongue so far inside my mouth, I almost choke. This is not a kiss of affection; this is a kiss of ownership, and a warning to behave myself or face the consequences.
Just when I think I might throw up or let loose the ball of emotion lodged somewhere near where his tongue is reaching, he steps back from me. His hands fall into his pockets while he eyes me up and down like a piece of furniture, making me feel small and cheap before his lascivious eyes. Under normal circumstances, I would like to think I would have slapped him hard. However, I have to remain still, and watch as he turns to draw up an antique chair that sits before a dressing table. He proceeds to straddle it with his eyes fixed firmly on my small, hunched frame.
“Take off your clothes, Beth!” he orders without any room for question. “I want to see all of you.”
At first, I look away to the floor, my head trying to think of some way out of this but only come up with nothing. As soon as I turn back to face him, he arches one of his eyebrows. His simple act threatening me with what will happen if I do not comply.
Reluctantly, I slowly peel away my dress, shoes, and tights. I am by no means seductive about it, and when I finally stand before him, in only my underwear, I begin scratching my arm nervously as though I have a bad case of eczema. He takes his time to run his eyes over my body, paying no heed to my nervous itch, and even goes so far as to reach out for me, only to stop himself.
“I want you to lose the bra and sit back on the bed,” he says as he motions to the mammoth piece of furniture behind me. His face lacks any sort of emotion; it almost feels like he’s playing the role of a physician instructing his patient before performing a clinical examination. I pause, knowing I would rather throw myself from one of the huge windows than do as he’s just instructed.
“Don’t make me ask you again, Beth!” His voice makes me jump at the same time as he leans back slightly and eyes my body with dark intent.
“I’ve never done this before,” I try to explain in as small a voice as I can manage without it becoming mute. He merely shrugs and waits for me to do it anyway. His head tips to the side as I unclasp my bra and drop it to the floor with a small, ugly thud.
“You, my darling, are fucking perfect. I could fuck you right now!” He hisses through his teeth and clutches at the chair like it’s a prison he desperately wants to break free from. “But I won’t. Instead, I want you to touch yourself for me,” he says, after seemingly gaining back some of his self-control.