CHAPTER FIVE

When I wake up, my mind is completely clear, and I remember everything. The urge to scream is overwhelming. I jump out of bed, noticing I'm still wearing the robe from last night.

The movement brings a sharp awareness of deep soreness, and my lower body tightens as I recall how it happened. I can still feel his presence inside me, and it makes me shudder.

I am disgusted with myself. What is wrong with me?

How could I have just lain there and let Lucifer take advantage of me? How could I have enjoyed his touch?

Yes, he's attractive, but that's no justification.

He's evil. I sensed it from the start. His outer beauty conceals the darkness within. I fear he's only just begun to show me his true nature.

Yesterday, I was too terrified, too shaken to pay attention to my surroundings.

Today, I'm feeling better, so I take a careful look around the room.

There's a window, but it's covered by thick ivory shades, though I can still see some sunlight peeking through.

I rush over and pull open the shades, blinking at the sudden brightness adjust, and when th eyes take a moment to ook outside.

I can see palm trees and a white sandy beach.

Beyond it, there is a large body of water, blue and shimmering in the bright sun. It's beautiful and tropical.

And about as different as possible from my little town in the Midwest. I'm cold again,so cold that i'm shivering.

i know it's from stress because the temperature must be somewhere in the eighties. I'm pacing up and down the room, occasionally pausing to look out the window.

Every time I look, it's like a punch to the stomach. I didn’t know what I had been expecting.

I hadn’t even taken the time to think about where I might be. I had just assumed he would keep me somewhere nearby, maybe still close to Chicago, where we first met.

I thought escaping would be as simple as finding a way out of this house. Now I see it’s far more complicated than I imagined.

I try the door again. It’s locked. Earlier, I discovered a small bathroom connected to this room. I used it to take care of basic needs and brush my teeth.

For a moment, it had been a small distraction from everything.

Now I’m pacing the room like a caged animal, my fear and anger growing stronger with every passing minute.

Then, the door opens, and a woman steps inside. I’m so stunned that I just stand there, staring. She looks fairly young, maybe in her early thirties, and she’s attractive.

She’s carrying a tray of food and smiling at me. Her hair is a cascade of red curls, and her eyes are a soft brown. She’s taller than me by at least five inches and has an athletic build. Her outfit is casual: jean shorts, a white tank top, and flip-flops. I briefly consider attacking her.

She’s a woman, and maybe, just maybe, I could stand a small chance against her in a fight.

That’s more than I could ever hope for with Lucifer. Her smile widens, as though she's reading my mind.

"Please don't jump me," she says, and I can hear the amusement in her voice. "It's quite pointless, I promise. I know you want to escape, but there is really nowhere to go. We're on a private island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean." The sinking feeling in my stomach worsens.

"Whose private island?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Why, Lucifer's, of course."

"Who is he? Who are you people?" My voice is relatively steady as I speak to her. She doesn't make me nervous the way Lucifer does. She puts down the tray.

"You'll learn everything in due time. I'm here to take care of you and the property. My name is Daphne, by the way." I take a deep breath. "Why am I here, Daphne?" "You're here because Lucifer wants you."

"And you don't see anything wrong with that?" I can hear the hysterical edge in my tone. I don't understand how this woman is going along with that madman, how she's acting like this is normal. She shrugs.

"Lucifer does whatever he wants. It's not for me to judge."

"Why not?"

"Because I owe him my life," she says seriously and walks out of the room.

i eat the food Daphne brought in for me and it tastes nice, actually, even though it's not traditional breakfast food. There is grilled fish in some kind of mushroom sauce and roasted potatoes with a side of green salad.

For dessert, there's some cut-up mango. Local fruit, I'm guessing. Despite my inner turmoil, I manage to eat everything. If I were less of a coward, I would resist by refusing to eat his food but I fear hunger as much as I fear pain.

So far he hasn't really hurt me. Well, it did hurt when he put his c*ck inside me, but he hadn't been purposefully rough.

I suspect it would've hurt the first time regardless of the circumstances. The first time. It suddenly dawns on me that it had been my first time. Now I'm no longer a virgin.

Strangely, I don’t feel like I’ve lost anything.

The thin membrane inside me never held any real significance. I never planned to save it for marriage or any other special moment.

What I regret is that my first time was with a monster, but I don’t mourn the loss of being called a “virgin.” If things had been different, I would’ve been more than willing to experience that with Ace.

Ace.

My stomach twists. I can’t believe I haven’t thought about him since Lucifer told me he was safe. The guy I’ve been infatuated with for months didn’t even cross my mind while I was in the arms of my captor.

Shame flares hot inside me. Shouldn’t Ace have been on my mind last night?

Shouldn’t I have been imagining his face when Lucifer touched me so intimately?

If I truly wanted Ace, why wasn’t I thinking of him during such a traumatic moment?

Bitterness and hatred swell within me for the man who did this to me—the man who shattered my illusions about the world and about myself.

I had never given much thought to what I’d do if I were kidnapped or how I might react.

Who plans for something like that? But I’d always assumed I’d be brave, fighting until my very last breath.

Isn’t that what happens in all the books and movies?

The heroine always resists, even when it seems hopeless, even if it means enduring more pain.

Shouldn’t I have done the same?

Yes, he’s stronger than me, but that doesn’t excuse how quickly I gave in.

He hadn’t tied me up or threatened me with a weapon. All he did was chase me down when I tried to run.

That single attempt at escape was the extent of my resistance. I don’t recognize this version of myself—the one who surrendered so easily.

But she’s still me, a part of me I never knew existed until now. A side of me that Lucifer has dragged into the light. The thought fills me with so much turmoil that I redirect my focus to my captor.

Who is he?

How does someone afford their own private island?

Why does Daphne claim she owes him her life?

And most importantly, what are his plans for me? My mind races with countless possibilities, each one worse than the last. I know human trafficking is real. It happens all the time, especially to women from vulnerable backgrounds.

Is that what he has in store for me? Will I end up trapped in a brothel somewhere, drugged and used by countless men every day?

Is Lucifer just sampling the merchandise before he ships me off to my final destination?

The horrifying thought consumes me Before panic can take over my mind, I inhale deeply and try to think logically. While the human trafficking is a possibility, it doesn't seem likely to me.

For one thing, Lucifer appears to be very possessive of me far too possessive for someone just testing out the merchandise.

And besides, why bring me here, to his private island, if he's just planning to sell me?

My pet, he had called me. Is that just a meaningless endearment, or is that how he sees me?

Does he have some fetish that involves keeping women captive?

I think about it for a while, and decide that he probab does. Why else would a wealthy, good-looking man do this?

Surely he had no problem getting dates the usual way. In fact, I might've gone out with him myself if I hadn't gotten that strange vibe from him in the club If he hadn't touched me like he owned me. Is that his thing?

Ownership?

Does he want a s*x slave?

If so, why did he choose me? Was it because of my reaction to him at the club?

Did he guess that I would be a coward, that I would let him do whatever he wanted to me?

Did I somehow bring this upon myself?

The thought is so sickening that I push it away and get up, determined to explore my prison further. The door is still locked, which doesn't surprise me.

I'm able to open the window, and warm, ocean-scented air fills the room. I can't open the screen on the window, though.

I would need to do that in order to climb out. I don't try too hard.

If Daphne is to be believed, escaping from this room wouldn't help me at all. I look for something that could be used as a weapon.

There's no knife, but there's a fork left over from my meal. Daphne would probably notice if I hide it. Still, I take a chance and do it, concealing the utensil behind a stack of books on a tall bookshelf that lines one of the walls.

Next I explore the bathroom, hoping to find a bottle of hairspray or something else along those lines. But there's only soap, toothbrush, and toothpaste.

In the shower stall, I find body wash, shampoo, and conditioner -all nice, expensive brands. My captor is clearly not stingy.

Then again, anyone who owns a private island can probably afford a fifty-dollar shampoo. He might even be able to afford a thousand-dollar shampoo, if such a thing exists. The fact that I'm thinking about shampoo amazes me.

Shouldn't I be screaming and crying?

Oh, wait, i did that yesterday.

I guess there's only so much crying a person can do. I seem to be all out of tears, at least for now. After exploring every nook and cranny of the room, I get bored, so I take one of the books from the bookshelf.

A Sidney Sheldon novel, something about a woman betrayed who seeks revenge on her enemies. It's engrossing enough that I'm able to mentally escape my prison for the next couple of hours.

Daphne comes and brings me brings me some clothes, folded in a stack. I'm glad. I've been wearing the bathrobe all morning, and I would like to dress normally.

When she puts the clothes on the dresser, I again think about tackling her and trying to escape. Maybe using the fork I've got stashed away.

"Ella, give me the fork," she says. I jump a little and give her a startled look.

Could she actually be a mind- reader?

And then I realize that she's simply looking at the empty tray and noticing that the utensil is missing.

I decide to play dumb.

"What fork?" She lets out a sigh. "You know what fork. The one you hid behind the books. Give it to me."

Another one of my assumptions proven wrong. I don't know why I thought I had any privacy. I look up at the ceiling, studying it carefully, but I can't see where the cameras are.

"Ella". Daphne prompts. I retrieve the fork and throw it at her. I think I'm secretly hoping it spears her in the eye.

But Daphne catches it and shakes her head at me, as though disappointed in my behavior.

"I was hoping you wouldn't act this way," she says.

"Act what way? Like a victim of kidnapping?" I really, really want to hit her right now.

"Like a spoiled brat," she clarifies, putting the fork in her pocket. "You think it's so awful, being here on this beautiful island? You think you're suffering by being in Lucifer's bed?" I stare at her like she's a lunatic.

Does she honestly expect me to be okay with this situation?

To meekly go along with this and never utter a word of protest?

She stares back at me, and for the first time, I notice some lines on her face. "You don't know the real meaning of suffering, little girl," she says softly, "and I hope you never find out. Be nice to Lucifer, and you just might be able to continue living a charmed life."

She leaves the room, and I swallow to get rid of the sudden dryness in my throat.

For some reason, her words make my hands shake.