Page 21 of Coercion

“Do you like it?” It shouldn’t matter. Not really. If everything goes to plan she won’t be here long enough for this place to truly become home. But I want her to like it. I want her to be happy here.

“It’s not what I expected.” She admits.

My lips curl at what feels like a rare show of honesty. “What did you expect?”

“More concrete.” She says. “Like Levi’s compound.”

“Ah.” That makes sense. She’s used to walls and prisons. She’s used to the great monstrosity Levi built that resembles more of a bunker than a home.

“Are you not afraid?” She asks. “With all those glass windows?”

“Afraid of what?”

“Attack.”

I shake my head. “It’s all reinforced. Bullet proof. And no one can get past the perimeter.”

“You’re sure?”

The car door opens as she speaks and she bites her lip, like she thinks questioning me is speaking out of turn. I get out, holding my hand for her and she once again takes it like she’s taking the very hand of death.

“You’re safe here, Ruby.” I say, leading her up the stone steps. “I want you to feel safe, to feel at home.”

She side eyes me like she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying but I let it go. It’s going to take time but I am going to get her trust me.

I don’t bother giving her a tour, that can wait, instead I take her straight to the master suite. “Grab a shower, freshen up. Breakfast will be ready when you are.” I say before leaving her to it, giving her what I suspect is her first moment of privacy in the last twenty four hours.

I head down to the dining room, taking the time to pour an extra strong coffee while I go through my emails.

When I hear the patter of her bare feet on the stairs, I look up in surprise. She was quick. Like she was afraid of keeping me waiting.

She’s wearing a silk robe that more than hints at her pebbled nipples beneath. And the turquoise colour accentuates how pale she is. With her mother’s heritage her skin should be so much darker. Maybe Levi kept her locked inside and that’s why she looks like she’s never felt the sun on her skin.

She stands awkwardly, just inside the room, waiting for something.

Her hair is damp. Her face is finally free of all the smeared makeup and, though she looks beautiful, I can see the faint hint of bruising against her right cheekbone. Someone hit her. And recently. A flash of rage surges in me and I clench my fists, forcing it back down, reminding myself that she’s mine now, no one is going to hurt her ever again.

“Sit, Ruby.” I say, realising that’s what she’s waiting for. God damn permission just to breathe.

She does it quickly, sliding into a seat that’s far enough out of reach from me but not so far I’d take it as an insult.

“Do you like coffee?”

She nods.

I get up, taking the cafetiere from the side and pour out a fresh mug for her. When I place it in front of her, she wraps her hands around it like she wants to warmth to reach her very soul.

“Are you hungry?” I ask as I sit back down.

“A little.”

“What do you like to eat?”

She shrugs, all noncommittal, and my jaw tightens with frustration. She’s so afraid of saying anything, of voicing any opinion. It’s fucking infuriating.

“Fine.” I murmur before clicking my fingers and quietly make the staff bring up everything there is.

She keeps her eyes down. Every so often she sips her drink and I’ll admit I catch myself fantasising about what those pouty lips would feel like wrapped around something other than just that cup.