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“Doubt it.”

“I was chained in your basement for five days.”

“Technically, not chained.”

“Well, Luca, the guy you met, he gave me the pick a few days ago. I’ve just been unchaining them while you’ve been asleep so I could get comfy. And that really was the best mattress I’ve ever slept on. I wanted to get the full experience.” I take her hand and run my thumb over her knuckles.

Changing tack, I ask, “Are you ready for our date?”

She looks down at herself and laughs.

“I’m wearing workout gear.”

As if I fucking care what she’s wearing.“You could wear a trash bag, Olivia. I’ll take you anywhere.”

I push a loose strand behind her ear and drag my fingertips down her neck before gripping firmly. It’s a risk, but I think she needs me to take control right now.

“Go get ready, baby. Wear whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I smirk.

Her eyes roll, and she nods.

Our drive into the city is so smooth, it feels like we’re elevating. Not a single bump or swerve the entire time. It is as if everything uncertain and chaotic is bubbling inside the vehicle. Thankfully, Jimmy is driving, so I can keep my focus on Olivia.

Her nose is almost touching the blacked-out window, her body turned completely away from me. Not a great start. She isn’t talking either, but I wouldn’t know what to say if she did.

Part of my role with my father was playing a part. Generally speaking, people are more terrified of long silences than they are of verbal threats. The silence leaves room for guessing, for imaginations to run wild at what torture you have in store for them.

Perhaps Olivia is better at this than she thinks. She did successfully kidnap me with a little help, and now she has me sweating and pulling the collar away from my neck.

The balance of power has shifted astronomically in the last twenty-four hours, and I’ve mentally prepared that this might not be a smooth transition for her.

Sure, she’s agreed to a date, but she’s taken a lot of cajoling.

At least I’ve finally had a real shower. I’ve trimmed my beard, tidying up the scruff. Running my hand over the bristles, the sound was soothing. From the way her eyes dipped, I bet she liked it too.

I still remember how she descended the stairs, the light from the upstairs window lighting her up from behind like some ethereal creature. Her red sundress embroidered with daisies that seemed to float along the fabric. The hem fell just above the knee, showing off her toned legs. The bodice squeezing in at her waist and tight enough that her tits pressed against the fabric into a sweetheart neckline.

Her loose waves cascade over her shoulder, preventing me from reading her face. At least she’s not crying anymore. I’m sure her anxiety today has been an accumulation of overthinking and guilt over what she’s done. I just have to reassure her that this is the best thing that could have happened for us. It’s led us to tonight.

I cough lightly. She’s like a deer in headlights, and I don’t want to startle her.

“There’s a restaurant called Harvest. We’re going there.”

She turns, eyes wide and beaming.

“Harvest? Oh my god. I’ve wanted to go there for ages.”

I smile. “Good.” I reach out for her hand and draw it to my lips, kissing her knuckles.

Thank god I’ve done something right. I dare not look at her face, so I take my turn to stare out the window. She doesn’t let go of my hand the rest of the way.

???

“This isn’t chicken.” I stare down at my plate before looking over at Olivia’s across from me.