Page 35 of Arran's Obsession
Arran continued, ignorant of my turmoil. “The couple eats together, sleeps together, and fucks every day. It’s encouraged to go at it multiple times, but the commitment is once. Still pretending you don’t know any of this?”
Hot emotion brewed in me. Jamming my fingers into my hair, I unsettled the tray still on my lap so the plate clattered. “I told you I didn’t. I wasn’t there to trap you, you thug. Why would I want to be hunted like that?”
Arran reached out a long arm and claimed the tray, setting it on a side table, the disbelief in his expression switching to something new. “Thug?”
“Gangster, liar, whatever you want to call yourself.”
“I’m none of those things, but that’s nice judgement from a sneak thief like you. Need I remind you that you stole that place in the game from a real contestant? Something my team is going to have to play down, though I have no fucking clue how we’re going to explain my presence there.”
Some of the fire went out of me. I didn’t want to believe anything he said, but he had been so consistent it felt genuine.
“I assumed taking part was a perk of the job,” I said with a sniff.
“That’s where you’re wrong—I’m not interested in love. We run it for contestants only, and the people who pay to watch.”
Watch? The camera above me. The crowd of people cheering outside, celebrating. Something inside me curled up and died. “People saw me?”
Arran nodded. “It’s live streamed to screens in the club. A limited number of vetted people get to observe.”
God, the humiliation. I set down my precious coffee and turned away from him, curling up under the sheet. I’d known there would be someone behind the camera, but I figured it would be a security team, perhaps. Not paying customers.
“Please can you get rid of the footage?” I begged, not looking his way. “If my family ever saw that, I’d never be able to face them again.”
“Your family will never see it. It isn’t recorded, and we take all electronics from the watchers. That voyeur side of it is a pure moneymaker for the club as well as for the thrill of the people taking part. It validates what they’ve done and the choice they made to have it witnessed.”
I hugged my knees. The other women who’d taken part were enthusiastic beyond measure. They would have known all of this in advance. Voluntarily put themselves forward for it. I didn’t want to admit it, but imagining those final scenes with Arran fighting off the men who hurt me then entered me on the floor sent waves of fresh and insistent desire through my nervous system.
My body cried out for him. Wet pooled at my core, and I ached to be filled again.
He was everything I should loathe, and in the same heartbeat, I’d never wanted anyone more.
“Why do people do it?” I whispered.
“Like I said, they want to fall in love through a different means than polite dating. Both parties make promises including to uphold the agreement of staying together. The men promise financial support, and we tie them to that. Outside of that, the claiming is…binding. The savagery of it creates a bond like nothing else.”
“What do the women promise?”
“Other than to be healthy and willing, they’re the prize. They get to be adored and respected. They also promise faithfulness. Love. Children, if both want them. The woman can work or make a home, the choice is hers. This is modern dual-ownership. However their relationship operates after the four weeks is up is up to them, but out of the six times I’ve run this, no couple ever broke apart.”
Six times five equalled maybe thirty couples forged by this brutal method. I’d taken that from Natasha, the woman whose place I’d stolen. For the first time, a sense of disquiet slunk over me. I didn’t like it. Nothing about this had been planned. Nor did I want the terms his game offered.
“I wish you’d just let me go.”
“And I wish you’d never got us into this situation, but it is what it is.”
I twisted to face him. “You’re the one making this decision. You can just say no. Fuck your damn rules. I have people who are going to miss me. They’ll report me gone. What will you do then?”
“My reputation is built on my word, so no, I can’t fuck my rules. There are a lot of people who work for me, a lot of eyes and ears watching us who’ll spot a lie a mile off. If I failed to uphold my own fucking decree, we’ll both be back in that space. Understand?”
“Back inside that basement? You wouldn’t dare.”
“Entering the game is a commitment. Winning a privilege. If those winners disrespect it, they’ll be dragged back in by the people who watched and celebrated them. That’s the consequence. Regarding your family,” he checked his phone, “your father, Adam Walker, and your brother, Riordan Jones, tell them where you are. I’m not stopping you.”
I made a sound of disbelief. Not only was this getting worse by the second, but he’d done a background check on me. The nerve. “I don’t have my phone. Or my bag or keys. Not even a single scrap to wear. Everything got left in a locker in the warehouse or torn off me.”
Arran’s gaze dropped from my face to my body. In my haste to yell at him, I’d let the sheet slip. Bared my breasts.
For a moment, neither of us moved. His chest rose and fell, and that insane claim he’d made of being a virgin until yesterday slammed into my head.