Page 54 of Saving Grace

“Fuck.” I screeched. My heart sank deep into my chest. My eyes fluttered up to meet Atticus.’

He stood leaning against my bedroom door fully dressed, watching me.

I wonder how long he’d been standing there.

I met his eyes, but they were unreadable. Atticus was hiding again.

I tried to hide my trepidation as I lied. “The doctor,” But my voice shook and wobbled.

He furrowed his brow, his eyes danced over my face. I wanted to look away, but it was as if he was telepathically holding me hostage.

I swallowed, hoping I wasn’t visibly sweating.

After a few seconds of scrutinizing me he frowned. “Your doctor called you at,” he paused to check the Rolex on his wrist, “five o’clock in the morning? On a phone I’ve just given you. Did you call and give the number to him?”

I knew the next lie I told would burn my tongue coming out my mouth so I nodded instead of speaking.

“Anything I should know?” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed.

I dropped my eyes and quickly shook my head no.

“You sure?”

My body shook.

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

He shifted from his leaning position to his full height, drawing my attention back to him. Slipping his hand into his pocket he waited. His silence stretched long enough to make me aware that he was giving me a chance to tell the truth. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. It made me sad he had faith in me and I had none in him. He knew I didn’t too. Probably why he was so angry with me.

More silence, until he finally nodded.

His face remained expressionless. “Okay,” he said simply before he turned around and walked out.

His indifference to an obvious lie was an act. My chest ached.

I knew that simple okay was about to cause a lot of problems for me.

Grace

Atticus was being cruel. When he called my into his home office earlier I thought it would be about the phone call again. It was in a way, but we weren’t discussing it like I thought we would.

“Solonik is asking for a meeting. He wants to discuss his ever-decreasing territory.” One of his men said.

Atticus scoffed. “I don’t talk with Bratva scum. You handle it or tell my grandfather and let him.” He ordered, his voice never wavering, despite what he had me doing to him.

I closed my eyes tuning him and his men out as I tried my hardest to make him cum. I didn’t know which what was sorer—my knees, my jaw, or my throat as I worked my mouth up and down his thick, veiny cock.

His hand was wrapped in my hair, pushing my face down so the head of his dick stayed in the back of my throat. Struggling to get an adequate amount of air I was forced to breathe through my nose.

This was his punishment.

He wanted to humiliate me into telling him about the phone call. He kept asking to whom I’d been talking. He knew it wasn’t the doctor. Doctors didn’t call from untraceable numbers. “Doctors don’t illicit the type of fear I saw in your eyes, Grace.” He’d yelled at me the day after the call. Despite what he said, or how he tried to break me—I held onto the lie I’d told.

After that, he had gone from asking me to berating me for not telling him.

Now he was determined to break me by any means necessary— even if it meant having me stark naked under his desk while he conducted business.

More than an hour had passed.