Page 6

CHAPTER 6

ZAIDEN

T he digital clock's red numbers glowed 9:47 PM. 10:13 PM. 10:38 PM. Each minute stretched into an eternity as I sat motionless in my dark bedroom, ears straining for the sound I'd been waiting for. The pipes groaned faintly within the walls. Then, finally, water rushed through them toward the bathroom that connected Ariella's bedroom to mine.

I smiled in the darkness.

Since the library incident the night before didn't scare her enough to make her leave, it was time for us to establish our new relationship. The one where I owned her. The one where I slowly took everything she loved away from her, like she did to me.

The house was empty except for Ariella and me. Her mom was away for a charity event, and my father was always at work.

Silently, I pushed out of the chair and opened my bedroom door. I knew the bathroom door would be locked, but I had the key. Without making a sound, I inserted the key into the lock, listening to make sure she was in the shower. I pushed the door open and stepped into the steamy bathroom, listening to her hum a song that was low and sweet.

It was a nervous trait. She'd hummed herself to sleep the first night she'd ever spent in this house. She was seven, and it was the first time she'd been away from her parents. It was Kacie, me, Ariella, and Sterling, and we'd decided to watch a scary movie in the dark. She'd hummed through the whole movie. Not loud, but I could hear her fear. I'd ended up holding her hand until she fell asleep because it turned out she was even more scared of the dark. Those days were over, and I'd never be the one to hold her through her fears again because now I planned to terrorize her and become what her fears were made of.

I knew all of Ariella's dreams, knowledge that would make crushing them effortless. I understood exactly what she cherished, making it simple to strip it away. And I was intimately familiar with her deepest fears, the perfect weapons to use against her.

My hand hovered over the light switch. One flick and her biggest fear would engulf us. I needed to move with precision, relying on sound and memory rather than sight. I drew a silent breath and held it.

Darkness.

Her scream pierced the black void. The curtain rings scraped against the rod as I yanked it aside. Then chaos—water spraying, her hands flailing wildly, desperate to connect with anything. With me.

"No!" Her voice echoed against the tile.

I caught her wrist mid-strike, the impact vibrating up my arm. Cold metal kissed skin as the first cuff locked into place. She twisted violently, her wet body slippery, but I'd anticipated this. Her spine hit the tiled wall with a dull thud.

"Stop—" The word died in her throat as I secured her other wrist.

The handcuffs rattled against the shower rod, a metallic rhythm punctuating her ragged breathing. Only then did I allow myself to acknowledge the heat that spread through me where her skin had brushed mine. The memory of a different time, a different touch.

I searched for the light switch, wanting to see her fear.

"Zaiden." My name emerged from her throat like something feral, halfway between recognition and curse.

I let the silence stretch between us, savoring the ragged sound of her breathing. Water continued to fall, striking her skin before spattering against the tub.

"I always knew you'd put up a good fight." The words came out rougher than I'd intended, betraying exertion I didn't want her to hear.

The cuffs struck the shower rod three times in quick succession. "Zaiden, let me go."

My fingers found the light switch and hesitated, prolonging the moment. When I finally flicked it on, the sudden brightness was almost painful. I blinked, my vision adjusting, to find her staring back at me with eyes like blue flames.

Water beaded on her skin, tracking down her curves. I brushed my hair back, giving myself time to rebuild the mask of control she'd nearly dislodged.

There was no denying Ariella was hot. She was petite, with curves in all the right places. Her skin was deeply kissed by the sun except for the little triangles of creamy skin around her pink nipples that pulled tight like she was cold and a patch over her bare pussy. I dragged my tongue along my bottom lip as I fantasized about running my tongue along her tan lines, wondering if she still tasted the same as she did back then. "I think it's time we had a chat."

"Can we not have a conversation like normal people?” she hissed. She pulled her leg up, twisting slightly to hide herself from me.

"This was your choice, princess," I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the door frame. "When you let your little boyfriend talk for you."

"What the fuck do you want, Zaiden?" She seethed. She was angry. Good, that was exactly how I wanted her.

"I think it's time we set some boundaries," I smirked. "Or should I say rules?"

"Great," she forced a smile. "Boundaries would be great. Starting with no more leaving me naked, and I want my laptop back."

I laughed. "No, the rules are for you, not me." My eyes held hers. "And if you want your laptop back, you'll have to follow my rules."

She rolled her pretty blue eyes. "Go fuck yourself, Zaiden. I'm not following your rules." She jerked against the shower rod, making her perfect round tits bounce. "If you didn't know how this works, I'm part of the football team. You don't set rules for me."

"I had a feeling you would say that."

I remained against the wall, watching her. Letting her think she still had some control. Letting her believe her defiance meant something.

I pushed off from the wall when her eyes narrowed with suspicion. My hand slid into my pocket, fingers closing around my phone.

"Let me tell you how this is actually going to go."

Her chin lifted slightly. Defiant still. Good. Breaking her spirit would be so much more satisfying this way.

I swiped through my phone, taking my time, watching her from the corner of my eye.

"I'm going to set the rules," I said, voice dropping lower. "And you're going to follow them."

A short, dismissive laugh escaped her lips. "Or what?"

"Or there will be consequences."

I turned the phone toward her. For one heartbeat, confusion crossed her features. Then recognition. Her smile crumbled, color draining from her face as she stared at herself on the screen—on her knees in front of her dance coach, performing in ways that would destroy everything she'd built.

"Now, you're probably thinking if this video gets out, you could lose your scholarship or even be kicked out of the school for bribing a coach."

"Where the fuck did you get that?" She hissed. "Delete it now." She surged forward, but the cuffs wrapped around the shower bar held tight. "You have no idea what that is."

"I don't care," I smirked, cocking my head to the side. "This video ensures you'll do whatever I tell you to do, doesn't it? My guess is that even more than not wanting to lose your scholarship, you don't want this video to go viral. What would your little football fuck boy think about you blowing your coach." Clicking my phone black, I shoved it back into my pocket.

"Fine, Zaiden, what do you want?"

Reaching out, I brushed a strand of her wet hair out of her face, my gaze locked on her full lips. "I want to own you. I want to ruin you."

"You really think this is what Kacie would want?"

"You really think Kacie would want to be dead right now with you living your best life and moving into her bedroom like she never existed."

"Zaid—"

"Shut up," I ordered. "First, you're going to let your football fuckboys know you belong to me. You'll no longer be changing with the rest of the team. You'll use the hockey locker rooms starting tomorrow."

"I can't do that, Zaiden. I don't have a locker in the hockey room. I have an assigned one in the football room."

"Figure it out," I groaned, turning toward the bathroom door. "Or your video will go viral, and you'll be headed back to your daddy." Stopping, I twisted back to her and stepped forward until my black boots hit the porcelain tub. My gaze raked down her naked, wet body, making her squirm. "The video is the last consequence I'll use." I gripped her jaw and leaned in so she could feel my words against her lip. "You make sure you let them know who you belong to, or I will. "My lips lifted into a sinister smirk. "And I prefer public humiliation." I shrugged. "Just so you know." I jerked her face away from me and ran my tongue up her throat. She tasted as sweet as I remembered, but with a hint of salt. That taste. A new addiction.

Fear.

She tasted like fear, and for some unknown reason, new to me, that fucking turned me on.

I stepped back, hand falling away from her face. Her skin left a damp impression on my fingertips.

"You win, Zaiden." Her voice had changed, softened around the edges. "Now, please let me go."

That "please" hung between us—sweet, desperate. Exactly what I wanted to hear. I reached into my pocket, taking my time, letting her wonder what would come next.

The spy camera was smaller than a matchbox, black, and inconspicuous. Her eyes tracked it as I inserted it into the outlet near the sink.

"What is that?"

The camera slotted into place with a click. A tiny red light blinked once, then steadied.

"Smile for the camera, princess."

Understanding widened her eyes. She pulled against the handcuffs, the metal biting into her wrists. "Zaiden, no." Her composure fractured, panic bleeding through. "Do not leave me here."

I moved backward toward the door, maintaining eye contact. Her fear was intoxicating, better than I'd imagined. Steam continued to rise from the shower, enveloping her.

"Put on a good show for the hockey team for me, baby." My hand found the doorknob behind me. "Make sure you scream my name when you struggle to free yourself."

The door closed between us, inch by inch, her panicked expression gradually disappearing from view. Only when the latch clicked into place did I allow myself to smile.

Through the door, her voice carried, stripped of everything but raw desperation: "Zaiden! Don't do this!"

It would only be a few minutes before she realized the cuffs were fake and there was a safety release on them, but she'd never know that I was the only one watching her struggle right now. Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I flipped open the app and clicked on the mini camera as I locked myself in my room.

My cock throbbed at the sight of her naked, wet, struggling to free herself and screaming my name. The memories of how she tasted mixed with the feeling of her skin brushing against mine pushed forward, sending blood pumping through my cock, making it beg to be emptied. I was flicking open my pants and setting myself free before I even realized what I was doing.

My gaze raked down her naked body as I wrapped my hand tightly around the base of my dick and stroked from root to tip. Closing my eyes as I continued to stroke, I turned the volume up, listening to her scream my name, the sound the cuffs made when they hit the metal bar, and her tiny little whimpers of frustration.

"Fuck," I grunted as I used the precum from my wide head to quicken my strokes. I tightened my grasp, the muscles in my forearm flexing as I increased my speed as my gaze zeroed in on her perfect round tits thrashing around as she fought to free herself.

"Zaiden," she growled. "Let me go, now."

I closed my eyes, picturing her on her knees in front of me, opening her mouth, ready to take my load on her tongue. "Fuck." My cock twitching and my abs clenched as I exploded into my hand.

Everything went silent, and when I rechecked the camera, she was freeing herself.

My sister's empty bedroom lay across the hall, door ajar. A shrine to what had been taken from us. From me.

I pressed my forehead against my bedroom door, listening to Ariella's muffled struggles through the wall. She didn't deserve the mercy of a quick revenge. No, this would be methodical. Calculated. I would dismantle her life piece by piece, just as she had destroyed mine.

The memory of her skin against mine lingered, unwelcome but persistent. Hatred and desire created a strange feeling, but I would use both. Take whatever pleasure I could from her body, then discard her when I was done.

My fingers traced the door's wood grain, following its natural lines and breaks—like the path I'd mapped for Ariella's destruction—first, her dignity, then her reputation, her relationships, her future.

By the time I finished, no man would recognize what remained of her. That thought alone sent a shiver of satisfaction through me that rivaled the physical release from moments before.

Tonight was only the beginning.