Roselyn's POV:
"He'll kill me..." I shook my head and pleaded, "Mr. Bradley, you can't let Paul find me here."
Dylan was acting colder than usual. He clearly didn't care whether I lived or died. Without a word, he reached for the door.
"Don't!" I cried.
Panic left me unable to think. Instinctively, I threw myself against Dylan's chest and begged in a choked whisper, "He'll kill me. He'll let his friends have their way with me. Mr. Bradley, please... You have to save me."
I felt Dylan's body tense. Had some small part of his gentlemanly nature finally kicked in? Was he really going to save me because I looked so helpless?
The lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Shocked, I tried to flee and hide in the room.
Before I could get away, Dylan grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face against his solid chest.
"Dylan?" Paul asked in surprise.
My entire body stiffened. I was terrified that he would see me.
Dylan nodded and asked flatly, "What are you shouting about?"
"My girlfriend," Paul said casually. "We got into a fight, and she stormed off. I thought she might've come back to her room, but it was empty. She won't answer her phone either. Just wait until I find her. I'm going to give her a real piece of my mind."
That was when I realized I'd run into the wrong room.
Remembering how I'd kissed Dylan the second I rushed inside made me cringe with embarrassment. At the same time, what Paul said filled me with dread.
"Whatever," Dylan replied flatly. "Just keep your voice down when you're outside my room."
Behind me, I could feel Paul's suspicious stare boring into my back.
I shut my eyes tight and silently prayed that he wouldn't recognize me.
Paul finally spoke again in a lazy, suggestive tone. "Fine. Enjoy yourself. She's got a pretty nice body, anyway."
Dylan didn't respond. He just guided me back into the room.
The door had barely clicked shut when another voice came from the hallway. It belonged to a woman, and she clearly knew Paul.
"Mr. Bradley?" she said, sounding slightly surprised.
"You? Why aren't you with my mother?" Paul asked.
"She asked me to check on Dylan," the woman answered. "He'd been drinking tonight, and she thought this might be a good chance for me to approach him and win his trust."
"Don't bother. He's already got a woman in there." Paul let out a dirty laugh. "Unless you want to join them. You could always knock and ask if they're up for a threesome."
Their voices grew fainter as they walked away, but cold sweat had already broken out across my forehead.
So it was true. Dylan didn't get along with his stepmother, Evelyn Bradley, the Godmother of the Bradley family. Using that to my advantage would be risky, but it might keep me from owing someone so powerful a debt.
"Mr. Bradley." I gathered the last of my courage, reached up, and kissed the underside of his chin. "Let me stay. I can help you."
Dylan looked down at me and studied me closely with those deep blue eyes.
The deal was so one-sided it was almost a joke.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror beside me and suddenly realized what a mess I was. My hair was tangled, my lipstick was smeared, and one corner of my false eyelash had come loose. No man would want me when I looked this wrecked.
I expected him to mock me and laugh at the nerve I had before throwing me out. Instead, he bent down, lifted me into his arms, and tossed me onto the soft mattress.
His hand wrapped around my throat. The grip wasn't tight enough to choke me, but it was firm enough to keep me in place.
His voice was low and husky as he warned, "Roselyn, lie to me, and I'll toss you into the ocean for the fish to eat."
I trembled as the pressure on my throat stirred a strange excitement inside me. "I wouldn't lie to you..."
"Make sure you don't," he said. His eyes narrowed.
The rest of the night blurred together in a haze of brutal passion. At some point, I passed out.
By the time I woke up again, the spot beside me was cold and empty.
"I can't believe I made it through last night," I muttered to myself as I thought back on what had happened.
Once I could move without every muscle screaming, I took a shower and changed into the fresh clothes waiting at the foot of the bed. I figured Dylan had left them there for me before he went out.
The Bradley family owned the largest estate on Crabert Island. They handled all their business within those walls, including the horrific operations that cost people their lives.
None of that involved me, though. I was only an ordinary assistant who sorted through files and documents that didn't matter.
"Stop! Roselyn, I've spent the entire night looking for you!"
I had only just made it downstairs with the files I'd organized when Paul walked in and shouted at me.
He still had on the same clothes from the night before. His eyes were completely bloodshot, and he stank of stale cigarette smoke.
Somehow, he looked worse than I did. I was the one Dylan had bent over and pounded into the mattress all night.
I looked over his disheveled appearance, and then calmly met his gaze. "What do you want?"
My calm answer only made him angrier. He charged over and stopped just inches from me. "What do I want? You've got some nerve asking me that!"
The slap clearly still had him furious. His pride just wouldn't let him admit it in front of his men.
I scoffed, "I already told you last night, Mr. Bradley. You and I are done."
"I didn't agree to end things!" he shot back.
"I don't need you to agree." I shook my head. "You never loved me in the first place."
There was no doubt that he didn't love me. If he did, he never would've wanted to record us having sex and share the video with his friends.
I'd had enough of the conversation, so I turned to leave.
"You're not leaving until you tell me what's going on!" Paul snapped.
He lunged at me and grabbed my arm. As I struggled against him, his hand snagged the scarf around my neck and pulled it off. The dark, angry love bites on my skin were suddenly exposed.
Paul went still. He stared at my neck before erupting. "You cheated on me! You slept with another man!"
He shouted so loudly that everyone turned to stare at us with nosy curiosity. It was humiliating.
I was suddenly furious. "We'd already broken up, Paul! I can do whatever the hell I want!"
He didn't seem to hear a word I said. His face was tight with rage when he snarled, "Roselyn, I swear, I'll find the bastard who left those marks on you and kill him in front of you!"
Right then, someone appeared at the top of the grand staircase. The murmuring staff immediately fell silent.
It was Dylan. His sharply tailored suit fit him perfectly, and his hair was neatly styled. He stared coldly at Paul.
"Who exactly are you planning to kill?" he asked slowly in a deep voice.
