The Boss (Chateau #3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,4

guard spoke again. “Because he wants you.”

I knew who he was.

The boss.

Two

A Man of His Word

Melanie

I was marched through the darkness to the northern part of the camp, past the flickering torches in the clearing, past the cabins with wooden rails covered in snow. The sky was dark, and delicate flakes of snow drifted down, landing on the bridge of my nose and melting instantly.

I walked between them, flanked on both sides, the sound of our footfalls crunching as we condensed the snow under our boots, grinding it into dust. Nights spent alone in my bedroom as I tried to fall asleep were never as quiet as it was now, when the tall pines of the forest shielded any sign of life from the outside world.

We reached a small cabin in the rear, a perfect square with a small patio on a rise, three pieces of wood making the stairs that led to the front door. There were windows, frosted in the corners from the cold, and a stone chimney that showed smoke rising from the top like it was occupied.

The guard opened the door and gestured for me to walk inside.

I halted in front of the wooden steps, so afraid that I was actually tempted to run. But there was nowhere to go. To face this sort of cruelty was enough to bring tears to my eyes, to experience my terrible fate before it happened, to become a slave in a new category. It was more demeaning than anything else I’d been forced to do. Crying wouldn’t change that, would probably make him enjoy it more, but I couldn’t control myself. I was in utter despair, unable to believe this was my life now. And when I thought about it happening to Raven, it made me cry even more.

“Come on.” The guard indicated to the door. “Now.”

I swayed on the spot before I rose up the stairs, passing between the two guards and entering the small cabin. My clothes had been placed on the bed, a fire was in the fireplace, and I heard the door shut behind me. Their footsteps never sounded, as if they stayed put.

I approached the bed, took a seat at the edge, and then noticed the couch, coffee table, and armchair positioned against the opposite wall. There was an empty bookshelf there as well. In the armchair sat the man I expected to see.

The boss.

He was as terrifying as I remembered.

Deep-brown eyes, hair so short I bet he shaved it whenever it became too long, a jawline so chiseled and sharp that every bone in his face was visible, even his prominent cheekbones. Through his dark facial hair, the thin beard that hadn’t been shaved since yesterday or maybe the day before, his fair skin was visible, bright in the light of the flames that burned in the hearth.

The fire popped when the wetness from the wood sizzled into steam, and the light licking of the wooden pieces by the flames made a peaceful noise, making it sound like a cozy cabin over Christmas.

But it didn’t feel cozy.

The longer I stared at him, the harder I cried.

He was in his bomber jacket, black jeans, and black boots. His knees were wide apart, his thick arms on the armrests, his muscular frame leaning against the back of the chair. With the same expression that never changed, he watched me cry, feeling absolutely nothing.

I pulled my gaze away because his expression frightened me. It only made it worse, only made the pain I was about to endure that much more intolerable. What was worse? What was about to happen…or the fact that there was nothing I could do about it?

In my peripheral vision, I saw his immense frame rise from the chair.

I gave an uncontrollable squeal of terror and immediately shifted farther down the bed, like the increased distance would make any difference at all. It provided me no extra protection whatsoever.

He didn’t move.

My shallow breathing turned into pants, and my hand tightened into a fist and rested against my chest, my eyes on the floor, cowering in fear but also impulsively preparing to fight a battle I would lose.

His deep voice invaded every corner of the cabin, slid over every inch of my skin like a breeze from an open window on a summer day. It was warm like the fire, not cold like the piles of snow right outside. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I sucked a shuddering breath through my clenched teeth, taking