Elsa couldn’t believe the disgusting wordsspilling out of him. What kind of man was he?

Before she could even process his statement,he abruptly pushed her off the bed and down to her knees. Hernatural response was to fight him and she slapped his hands away asshe tried to stand, upset with Mr. Black’s sudden volatility.

“Do as I tell you, Elsa, and don’t make mesay it again,” he growled with his hands still firmly pressing downonto her shoulders.

All of this over a simple question about ascar? She was speechless and infuriated as she fell to herknees.

“Who made you like this?” she stared up athim.

“Shut the hell up. I mean it. I don’t answerpersonal questions. I’ve said it three times now. To clarify thingsfrom this point on, rule number six is no fucking personalquestions unless you want to suffer my wrath. Is that clear enoughor do I need to write this one down, too?” he barked as he stoodover her.

Then suffer his wrath shewould because despite what her brain was screaming for her to do,she wasn't going to give in or run. Let him beat her if that’s whathe wanted. She welcomed his fists if that’s what it was going totake to break down the stone walls he had put up aroundhimself.

“Then let there be blood,”she whispered as she gritted her teeth. “Any man can forcehis domination on a woman. It doesn’t even take much of a man toshow her the errors of her ways. But to guide a woman, to lead herand to love and support her? That takes a special kind of man. Astrong man. An exceptional man. I thought you had it in you to bethat kind of man, but seeing Mr. Black come out like this over aninnocuous question? You’ve failed me, Victor.”

The statement slipped past her lips beforeshe could stop herself and it was as if she was watching herselffrom above. Mr. Black’s jaw gaped and she braced herself for theworst. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, ready forbloodshed.

“Get your things. You’re free to leave,” sheheard in an unfamiliar voice.

Elsa’s eyes popped open. Stunned speechless,she stared up at Mr. Black who suddenly looked calm. That was it?She was free to go after she said the very thing he had accusedChapter Seven of doing?

Of course not. All his dismissal meant wasthat he was going to stew on her rebellion and statement and dishout his punishment at a later time. Why did she have to let hercuriosity get the best of her? Why the hell did she have to askthat question about his scar? Why couldn’t she keep her stupidmouth shut?

13:Absence

Elsa drove home with her tailed tuckedbetween her legs, though she didn’t know why she was the onefeeling ashamed of her behavior. It was Mr. Black who should befeeling guilty for the way he overreacted to her harmless questionand his shitty remark about saying goodbye.

His sextoy… his hole? The more shethought about his statement, the more livid she became. Talk aboutthe great manipulator. He had been kind all day and even duringdinner the previous evening, and the entire time that’s what hethought she was? Just another Chapter to mind fuck and torture? Soin addition to all the other B.S. he was putting her through, shenow had to contend with the anxiety of worrying if he would watchthe video from earlier that day.

She arrived home and angrily tossed her baginto the couch. Pacing the living room she felt the sudden urge tolook out her window. If Mr. Black was out there, she swore shewould tear ass down there and rip him a new hole for all thehead games he was playing with her. She flung the curtains to theside expecting to his see his Nissan, but the street was empty.Lucky for him. Or probably more likely, lucky for her.

“Fuck you, Mr. Black!” she cursed the air,hoping he could hear her from across town.

*

Monday morning came too soon and Elsa feltemotionally drained. Frantic to hide the evidence of her nosiness,she had driven to the Grace Street brownstone in the early morninghours and let herself in to try and gain access to the surveillanceroom without success.

With only three hours of good sleep under herbelt, her morning at work was unproductive. Every time she wouldhear something near her door, she would jump, fearing Mr. Blackwould come slinking in, ready to reprimand her and add more rulesto her growing list. The more she thought about it, the more shebegan to wonder if the waiting, anticipating and dreading of hisactions was her punishment.

Afternoon came and she checked her textmessages. Nothing. Not one single word was sent to her and herheart began to sink. Maybe she had pushed him too far with hercruel accusation of being a failure or, God forbid, he had watchedthe video.

But what about his nasty words? Was hetorturing himself over what he had said to her? She doubted it verymuch. It was par for the course for him in his cruel game oftesting women’s limits and experimenting on them. And what in thehell was he trying to figure out by testing them? Oh, that’s right.He was ‘helping’ to make them stronger. She belted out a sarcasticlaugh at the thought. Mr. Black was the one who clearly needed thehelp. Maybe it would be a blessing if never called her again.

Well into the evening and back at home, heremotions skidded back and forth and her mood dipped up and downfrom hating Mr. Black to feeling torn about Victor’s heartfeltwords about love and wanting to really be seen.

She was obsessing and teetering on the vergeof losing all sanity. She was fixated on Victor and he wasconsuming her every thought.

Tuesday and Wednesday came and went. Mr.Black was nowhere to be seen or heard from and Elsa found herself,once again, alone. The days droned on and the silence wasgut-wrenching. It was as if he was only a figment of herimagination. Perhaps he had been. That damned scar…

Thursday was another uneventful day otherthan the now constant thoughts of Victor making it impossible toget anything done. Yes, Victor, not Mr. Black. She never wanted tothink about him again. Except for the way he had fucked her… Ifonly Mr. Black didn’t exist and it was only Victor… he wassomething special. Or had he only manipulated her into believingthat he was?

It pained her heart to think about it andmade her brain hurt recalling everything that had transpired overthe past two weeks. Had it really only been two weeks or had itbeen longer? She had no idea. She had lost track of time and thedays mixed together endlessly.

Back home, she sulked all evening. Her phonerang out as she was showering and she nearly slipped and injuredherself hauling ass to answer it, hoping, yet fearing, it would beMr. Black.

Her brother’s name came up and she frownedwith disappointment. She swiftly cut him off as soon as sheanswered, not wanting Mr. Black to hear their conversation; if hewas even listening anymore.

Dressed in only a robe, she went to Viv’s andborrowed her phone to call Nick back. The conversation was briefbut her big brother had done her proud. He provided not only a homeaddress but several interesting and revealing details aboutVictor.

Apparently his mother had died at the fairlyyoung age of 58 from liver disease. Also, in his younger years,when he first came into the public’s eye, he had made his rounds onthe dating scene and had quite the reputation of being a ladies’man. All his dating abruptly halted a few years later, though,right after a big break in a big murder case.

That was all Nick could find out other thanthat Victor had never been married and had no children to speak of.Elsa felt the weight of a burden lifted off of her. At least hehadn’t lied about that.

Back in her apartment, she kept glancing outher window. It had become habit, but instead of seeing Mr. Black’sglowing cigarette or Victor’s silhouette, only a dark street glaredback at her. Would this week never end?