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"Where am I?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady. "What do you want?"
"This?" He waved his hand airily. "This is a temporary holding place. As for what I want..." He stood, moving behind me, his fingers trailing across my shoulders. "I want to finish what we started. Before you so rudely ran away."
I shuddered at his touch, memories flooding back—the pain, the humiliation, the fear. "Harold sent you," I said, not a question.
Degrassi circled back into view, smiling thinly. "Coombes and I have a mutually beneficial arrangement. He wanted you gone; I wanted you back. But there's been a slight change of plans."
My heart sank. "What change?"
"Harold was quite insistent that you should meet with an unfortunate accident." Degrassi shrugged, as if discussing the weather. "But I convinced him there was a better solution. One where he still gets what he wants, and I get what I want."
"Which is?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"You, boy. " His fingers touched my cheek, and I flinched away. "Properly trained this time. No more of this childish regression. No more tantrums. Just instant obedience."
"My husband will find me," I said, clinging to the thought of Daddy like a lifeline. "He'll tear this place apart."
Degrassi laughed, genuinely amused. "Your 'husband'? The biker? Oh, Matthew." He shook his head as if I'd told a particularly amusing joke. "That man is a mercenary, nothingmore. Do you really think he cares about you? He married you for money."
The truth of his words stung, even though I knew there was more to it now. "You're wrong about him."
"Am I?" Degrassi walked to a small table and picked up what looked like a remote control. "Harold told me everything. How your 'Daddy' met with him just days ago to discuss a buyout. Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars to walk away from you." He clicked his tongue. "Not a very devoted husband, is he?"
I tried to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing my doubt. "And he turned him down," I said fiercely.
“Ah, yes, but he’s now lost a million-dollar business that no insurance company will touch, as it's been proven arson.” Degrassi said almost casually. “He might not want to give you up just yet, but do you think he’ll feel the same when the next bar goes poof?” He flicked his fingers.
I swallowed my whimper. “Does my godfather know—”
"Your godfather is impatient and sloppy, and is doing an excellent job of running all his businesses into the ground," Degrassi replied dismissively. He moved closer, his fingers playing with the chain attached to my collar. "But I made him a better offer. You see, your continued existence is actually quite valuable to me—as long as you're under proper control."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your trust fund, Matthew. With the right paperwork—which we've already prepared—your new lawyer is going to make everything tidier. You will get an immediate annulment and your new husband—me—will take charge of your inheritance. He smiled coldly. "Your biker gets his payout to keep quiet. Harold recoups his losses, and I get my boy back and my continued expenses very generously paid. Everyone wins."
"Except me," I whispered.
"Oh, you'll adjust," Degrassi assured me, his tone almost gentle. "You always were so adaptable. Remember how quickly you learned to kneel properly? How fast you picked up the correct way to present yourself?"
I closed my eyes, trying to block out his words and the memories they evoked. "Novo won't do it."
"He will when he sees what happens if he doesn't." Degrassi turned his phone screen to me showing security footage of the Diamond Kings compound. "We have eyes everywhere, Matthew. Your precious Daddy, his club, all those children at the barbecue..." He let the threat hang in the air.
Fear clawed at my throat. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" He zoomed in on one of the cameras, showing Daisy organizing the evacuation of the clubhouse. "They're in quite a panic right now, aren't they? Searching for bombs that don't exist—at least, not yet." His smile turned cruel. "The strip club was just a demonstration. Imagine what we could do to a building full of families."
I strained against my restraints, fury and terror making my voice shake. "You're a monster."
"I'm a businessman," Degrassi corrected. "And you're an investment that's about to pay significant dividends." He set down the remote and moved to a cabinet on the far wall. "Now, let's discuss your new rules."
When he opened the cabinet, I saw an array of implements that made my blood run cold. Paddles, whips, canes—tools designed for pain and submission. Degrassi selected what looked like a riding crop, testing it against his palm with a sharp snap that made me flinch.
"Rule one: You will address me as sir at all times." He approached slowly, the crop tapping rhythmically against his leg. "Rule two: That childish headspace you retreatto? Forbidden. Rule three: Complete obedience, without hesitation."
I kept my mouth shut, refusing to acknowledge his rules. Defiance might be foolish, but it was all I had left.
Degrassi sighed, as if disappointed by my silence. "I see your time away has made you forget your training." He reached out, gripping my chin painfully. "That's alright. We have all the time in the world to relearn."