Someone stepped into her bedroom.
"Master Paul would like you to join him for dinner." He said politely.
"I'll enjoy my dinner in here tonight. Thank you, Sam."
He kept his hands behind his back as he stood in the open doorway. He didn't leave, he had something else to say. "Yes?!"
"Master Paul said dinner would only be served in the dining room. If you would like to eat, you need to join him."
"Then I'll starve." The choice was clear. She turned back to her book and silently excused herself. Sam shut the door, and his footsteps trailed away. A minute passed, and she was sure that he was in the dining room telling Paul what she had said. It was only a matter of time before Paul will storm up there and dragged her by the hair.
His quiet footsteps approached her door a moment later. Despite how lightly he approached her, she knew there he would be enraged. Chaos would be burning in his eyes, and he would probably slap her across the face.
The doors burst open, his eyes changed from cold peaks to burning lava.
"Get. Your. Ass. Up. Here." He stood in front of her, his powerful arms hanging by his sides. "Now."
"No." She turned her eyes back to her book and kept reading.
His hand flew to her throat, and he tightened his grip, pushing her head back against the couch. He rested a knee on the cushion and leaned over her, the threat of violence clear in his eyes.
"Move now, or I'll slap you until you cry." He shook her neck forcefully. "Don't test me."
She wasn't testing him. She simply didn't care. "Do your worst." Her body was unable to feel anything. It was numb from the betrayal by Jason. She was hopeless, had nothing, not even anyone to believe in. Whether she was there as his slave or back at the club, she was all alone with no one to trust. He could hurt her all he wanted, but she probably wouldn't feel anything.
His fingers loosened on her neck, and his expression changed. Something happened deep inside him. He saw a flicker in her eyes. He saw something break in her soul. He changed his tone, dropping the violent one and adopting the gentle caress she rarely seen from him. That caring and sympathetic man didn't emerge often. But when he did, it was beautiful.
"Please join me for dinner." He pulled his hand away from her neck and brushed his fingers along her cheek. The concern in his eyes brought some life back inside her. The fact that she could sheathe his anger sometimes and bring out the gentle side of him gave her some form of importance. "Okay."
After that, they went for dinner. The sun had already set, but the pastel color in the sky still lingered. A gentle breeze swayed. The olive trees positioned by the road darkened under the impending shadow of night. White candles burned in the center of the table, illuminating their faces as they ate our dinner. Neither one of them spoke but sometimes she wondered why he wanted me to join him when he clearly didn't care about having company.