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Eliza

Troy keeps a tight leash on my spending, so leaving is not an option.

I live with him too, so he controls everything I do.

I’m lucky he hasn’t made me quit, but if he knew how much my bosses hated him, he would.

Although, if Julian and Calder knew just how poorly he treated me, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything they did.

“Are you fucking listening?” Troy yells. “You’re so goddamn lazy, Eliza. God , why am I even with you?”

“I don’t know,” I say. I do know. He’s with me because he can manipulate me with fear. He knows I’m scared of him, even if I do get an attitude. I can’t keep it from slipping out, though. When a sarcastic remark slips out, I instantly get scared that he will punish me.

“Whatever. Just go back to work,” Troy says as he ends the call.

It’s too bad Troy is so fucking crazy because he’s hot.

The type of hot that I was once shallow enough to overlook all of the red flags just to not feel so lonely.

Truth be told, he ambushed me with love and affection until I was swooning so hard that I was colorblind.

Now, it’s my fault for staying. I have had years to leave him, yet I stay. Why?

“Trouble in paradise?” Calder asks, not looking up from his desk.

Calder is a massive, six-foot four-inch man with thick muscles, reddish-brown hair, and emerald-green eyes.

He is fucking intoxicating to be around.

Julian is just as stunning. He is slightly taller and has more of a dad bod.

His piercing blue eyes seem to cut right through this happy bullshit facade, and he understands Troy is no good.

Muscles and good looks or not, they’re amazingly sweet and gentle-natured. They’re everything I wish Troy was.

“Something like that,” I mutter.

“When are you going to dump that loser?” Julian asks.

“He tries,” I lie. He doesn’t try to do anything but break me down day by day.

“Mhmm,” Calder remarks, making me sigh. “What did he get mad about?”

“I didn’t wash my coffee cup this morning,” I say honestly.

“And that warranted him yelling at you?” Julian asks.

“He wasn’t yelling,” I lie again. “He was just talking loudly.”

“Mhmm. When you are ready to leave him, just let us know. You know the pool house is yours if you need it,” Julian says.

“I don’t need a handout,” I snap. Julian and Calder look up at me and narrow their eyes. When they stand, I sigh heavily. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” Julian says as he moves to stand beside my desk.

“Stop being nice when I was a bitch,” I say. “You two always do this shit.”

“Stand up, Liza,” Calder says.

“Annoying,” I mutter as I stand up. Julian puts his arms out for a hug and smiles.

I give in and step closer so he can wrap me in his arms. I always pretend like I don’t need this, but I do.

Fuck, it’s so nice. It’s like they can read my body language and just know that I am overwhelmed.

If only they knew how afraid I was to face Troy.

“You’ve got to stop letting him control you, Liza,” Julian says softly. “You deserve better than that.”

“I know,” I admit.

I’ve worked for Julian and Calder as their assistant for six years.

I started at nineteen as an intern, but they kept me on once I graduated.

Together they own The Velvet Room, which is a BDSM club with six locations, as well as VelvetBound.

VelvetBound is a community of sorts. Users can set up profiles for dating, chatting, joining online, or in-person communities.

It’s directly tied to the clubs, but the app and website are worldwide.

It allows users to explore kinks in a safe, controlled way.

We always recommend that if someone meets up, they do it in a Velvet Room location, this is strictly because we have the security to keep people safe.

Now, I have never seen them do scenes, but I know they do.

They teach whipping classes and lead submissive training.

Whatever that is. I’ve never seen that side of their personality, but I know it’s there.

I sometimes see it slip out when I’m being a brat, but what I get to see is the soft, kindhearted men that I wish Troy was.

Instead, Troy is a wannabe Dom that uses BDSM to abuse me.

When Julian pulls back, Calder hugs me. “We are good. Why don’t you cut out early?” Calder asks.

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yeah. It’s Friday, so we have some things to do at the club. Go enjoy your weekend, Liza,” Calder says.

I sigh and step back to my desk. “I’m sorry I was a bitch,” I say.

“Eliza,” Julian says.

“Yes?”

“Day or night. Call us, and we are there. Okay?” he says, gently grabbing my shoulders. “No stubbornness. We care about your well-being, so please tell us if you want out. Okay.”

“It’s not that easy,” I admit.

“Has he ever hit you?” Calder asks.

“No,” I say. “He’s just… He hasn’t hit me. I want to leave him, but it’s easier said than done.”

“We will respect your decision, but if it escalates, we won’t give you a choice but to leave,” Julian tells me.

“I get it,” I laugh. “He’s a dumbass, but not that much.”

“Good,” Julian laughs. “Go on.”

I turn to gather up my belongings and see that my call to Troy is still connected. I quickly end the call as fear rushes through me. Did he hear all of that? Fuck, what if he did? I’m fucking dead if he heard me say I wanted to leave. I won’t make it through the night if he thinks I’m fucking them.

I rush out of the office and down to my car before taking a second to breathe.

I am on the verge of tears and nearly hyperventilating.

I wasn’t paying attention. I could have sworn that he hung up, but I was wrong.

I fucked up, and now I have to face the consequences.

Troy already hates that I work for them and this company.

He despises that I am so close to them. I’ve managed to delay him making me quit, but I don’t think I can avoid it anymore.

As I drive home, dread settles in my belly, and it makes me nauseous.

I fucking hate how no matter what I do, I can’t stop the panic when I know he is mad.

It’s like my body knows I’m in danger. If he whips and then fucks me the way he does when I do something small, God knows what he will do to me for this.

I pull into the driveway and scurry out to run inside. He isn’t here, so maybe I can clean enough that he doesn’t get too mad. Maybe he didn’t hear me. Maybe I’m okay.

I start cleaning like my life depends on it, because I’m convinced it does.

I watch the clock slowly close in on 5:15 pm, when I know he will be home.

By the time six o’clock hits, I’m fully aware that I am freaking out.

Dinner is ready, and I’m keeping it warm for him.

The last thing I want to add to this is his dinner being cold.

There was one time I had the flu and overslept.

He was so angry at me for not having dinner ready.

A few minutes after seven, the front door opens.

I hold my breath in anticipation as I try to act normally and make his plate of food.

I hear him stop at the kitchen door, but I don’t dare turn around to see if he is watching me.

After a few seconds, his footsteps continue on to the bedroom.

By the time I’m setting his plate of food and glass of whiskey on the table, he appears in the dining room.

“Hey,” I say as sweetly as I can.

“House looks nice,” he says simply as he sits down.

“I got out of work early, so I thought I’d catch up,” I say nervously.

“Why’d you get out of work early?” Troy casually takes a bite of his food, and I don’t relax until he takes another bite, telling me that I didn’t fuck his dinner up too.

“Julian and Calder go to the main club on Friday evenings for a class they lead. They just told me to enjoy my weekend and said I could leave,” I say carefully. It’s not a lie. That is what they said.

“Hmm,” Troy grunts, taking a hearty sip of whiskey.

“How was work?” I ask.

“It’s amazing how you can look me in the eye and lie without even hesitating,” he remarks.

“I haven’t lied.”

“Oh?” he asks, setting his fork down.

“Troy, I—”

“You what?” he screams, suddenly slinging his plate at the wall. Food and glass hit the hardwood floor, and I let out a squeak as I jump up and back away. “How long?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say tearfully. His face is bright red, and it’s clear that he was drinking before he came home. Hearing my lie has him launching himself at me. He grabs me by the throat and squeezes as he slams my body back against the wall. “Troy!”

“You fucking liar!” he screams in my face. “You want to leave me?! No one fucking leaves me.”

“You’re hurting me. Troy, please,” I whimper.

“How long have you been fucking them?!” he asks, slamming me back against the wall again.

“I’m not. I swear, I’m not. I would never…”

Pain burns through my face when he rears back and slaps me. “I’ll fucking teach you, bitch. You want to be a whore? Fine.”

He shoves me down to my knees and grabs me by the hair with one hand as he pulls his dick out. “Troy! Stop. You’re hurting me!” I cry out.

“Shut the fuck up and take my cock, whore,” he growls as he uses his fingers to force my mouth open.

I gag when he pushes to the back of my throat and starts fucking my mouth hard and fast. I am already nauseous from the anxiety, so when I start retching, I can’t make it stop.

Bile builds in my throat and I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let up.

He keeps going and going until it becomes too much.

When the vomit comes up, he pulls away just in time for me to puke all over his feet.

“You fucking bitch!” he screams, slapping the side of my head. I cry out in pain, but my screams turn shrill when he drags me by the hair out of the dining room, through the living room, down the hallway, and into our bedroom. Then he pulls me up and throws me onto the bed.