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L ily spent all day Sunday assuring Blake that she was okay.

She promised him that she was fine and she insisted that she had forgiven him.

He had been inconsolable after the incident.

With tears in his eyes, he had begged on his knees for her forgiveness.

“I love you, Lily. I love you more than anything in the world,” he had cried.

“It’s okay,” she said through bruised lips.

“Lily,” Blake had sobbed. Inching forward on his knees, he placed his head in her lap.

Him on his knees, she sitting upright on the sand-colored couch. She kept gazing toward the hallway as flashes of the brutality kept coming back.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” She had patted his head and gazed toward the wall of windows, not seeing the majestic view beyond.

Her mind turned over one thought repeatedly.

Escape.

The attack last night had lasted several minutes. Which, when one is getting punched and thrown around, could feel like a lifetime. She was sure she had a concussion, and her right wrist hurt so badly that she took to cradling it against her stomach.

It was evening now, the dinner dishes had been stored in the dishwasher and a romantic movie played on the TV.

Lily sat quietly. Blake had dried his tears hours ago. He now sat next to her on the couch.

Tomorrow was Monday and when she left for work, she was never coming back.

She jerked when Blake closed one hand on her thigh. It took everything she had not to shudder, but she managed it.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

She didn’t struggle.

When he tried to help her get undressed and shower, she told him quietly that she could do it. She took her pajamas from him and shut the bathroom door.

She locked it and she heard his hand plant firmly on the door.

“I’ll be right out here,” he warned her.

Beneath the warm spray of water, she cried. And when the tears stopped, a cold rage took sorrow’s place.

She might be physically weaker than Blake, but she was sure the fuck smarter.

She would bide her time. She would plan. And when he let his guard down, she would escape.

She dressed in her pajamas and unlocked the bathroom door.

Blake was waiting and he carried her to the bed.

Her skin crawled.

Pulling the blankets around herself, Lily turned her back on him. When he slid into bed and cuddled in behind her, cupping his big body around her, she made sure to gasp loudly when he touched her ribs.

Blake eased his grip. “Next time…let’s not fight,” he murmured and sighed into her hair.

Lily lay there, not sleeping. She stared wide-eyed through the darkness until daylight crept through the curtains.

At six AM on Monday morning, Lily slid out of bed and removed her work clothes from the closet.

Blake came up behind her and took them from her hands.

“What?” Startled, she turned and stared up at him.

“You can’t go to work. Look at your face. Do you want them to know what happened?” he said, hanging her suit and blouse back in the closet.

“You mean, do I want them to know what you did?” Lily asked between her teeth.

Blake’s eyes went cold and hard. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Lily fought down the urge to throw up. She wanted to gouge his eyes out. She wanted to stab him. She wanted to kill him and regretted that she had stopped Max from choking him to death.

Then she remembered her plan.

Shit.

She’d forgotten how she’d planned to play along. Now Blake would be on high alert and if that happened, she’d never get away.

Sighing, Lily nodded, defusing the situation—she was an expert at that.

“I’m just used to going into work no matter what,” she said lightly.

“You can take a few days off,” Blake assured her, closing the closet door.

“What about the bodyguard?” Lily said. “He should be downstairs in an hour.”

“That fucker,” Blake snarled, squeezing his fists. “He’s fired.”

“There’s a contract,” she murmured.

Maxwell would be her last hope, if only she could get a message to him.

“Call him.” Blake pulled her phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. He’d taken it Saturday night and refused to give it back.

“What do I say?”

“Say we’re working things out. And if you give him any hint of anything, you’ll regret it.”

“Regret it? How?” She glared at him.

Blake moved so fast that Lily saw the hand coming too late. Blake had a fist in her hair and yanked her head back, her neck straining.

“You have a grandfather you care about. You have friends,” Blake rasped down into her face, clamping his other hand around her throat.

My God.

Blake had resorted to threatening her family and friends.

All bets were off, Lily realized. Blake was no longer even attempting to hide his brutality.

Blake released her throat and Lily shakily punched in Maxwell’s office number.

“Put it on speaker,” Blake said and then reached over her and punched the speaker button himself.

She spoke with Maxwell briefly and ended the call. She hadn’t had time to even think of a possible way to signal Max during their very short conversation.

“Good girl,” Blake said and tucked her phone away.

“How about some breakfast?” she said, acting like it was any other morning, she made her way into the kitchen, started the coffee, and also eggs and sausage.

The rest of the morning was spent with Blake trying to make casual conversation and Lily trying to respond, but everything fell flat. Blake’s cell phone buzzed and he disappeared to take a call.

“I told you to be patient.”

Lily heard Blake’s angry voice rising, but then it lowered and she couldn’t make out any further words.

“How about a movie?” he suggested, coming back into the room and grabbing the remote.

“Okay,” she sat on the couch while he put on The Ritual Killer. She had never noticed how much Blake liked these types of movies until now.

Sara and her grandfather had been right. Two months was not long enough to really know someone. She knew only what Blake had told her about himself. Which meant that she hadn’t known what kind of man Blake was.