Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Sixty Eight

Bianca

"Bambi?" Benji's voice drifts towards me, closer than I had anticipated. I look up to see him stepping into the room, his bare feet silently connecting with the cool tiled floor. A rush of confusion washes over him as he considers the precarious position I'm in. "Shit, Bianca?" he exclaims, the surprise lacing his voice. Before I can gather my thoughts, he gently rolls me onto my back, the warmth of his presence creating a stark contrast to the chill surrounding us.

"Are you awake?" he asks, his voice a low murmur that cuts through the stillness of the room. Despite the question, I hold his gaze firmly; my eyes lock onto his as I fight the need to close them again, silently conveying the truth that lingers between us.

"Can you sit up? You need to strip," he commands, his voice firm yet gentle.

With his steady support, I manage to prop myself up, my back finding a small measure of comfort against the cool porcelain of the tub. As he assists me, I feel the fabric of my top sliding off my arms, the air brushing softly against my skin. His deft fingers work methodically, unfastening the button of my shorts, a routine act that suddenly feels charged with urgency.

"Take them off," he insists, his eyes momentarily drifting to the radiator nearby, which stands like a sentinel holding a collection of four pristine white towels. He selects one, unfolding it with precision before redirecting his focus towards me. I've tugged the shorts down my legs, but they cling stubbornly around my calves, the damp fabric weighing me down, and my body feels too fatigued to muster the strength required to kick them away.

"You should just give him what he wants; it's easier that way, Bambi," he suggested, his tone laced with a hint of impatience.

"I don't have what he thinks I do. He's mistaken," I replied, my voice steady despite the tightening knot of anxiety in my stomach.

"My father is never mistaken. Never," he asserted, his eyes narrowing slightly, revealing a glimpse of his unwavering authority. "Whatever your reason for holding onto it, I hope you can bear the consequences." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin, as he gently wrapped a towel around my trembling body. My only garment was my two-piece bikini, which clung to me, offering little warmth and even less comfort in the chilling atmosphere.

Without warning, he scooped me up effortlessly, cradling me under my legs and supporting me around my back. The stark contrast of his body heat against the cold, damp air sent shivers racing down my spine as he carried me toward the room that loomed ahead. It felt ominous, almost like a chamber of horrors, filled with an unsettling energy that made my heart race faster with every step he took.

The heavy door is open, and my gaze is immediately drawn to the vast expanse that lies ahead. A sense of freedom washes over me as I take in the open space. Naturally, Benji notices where my attention is focused. His voice breaks through the silence, laden with curiosity and a hint of mischief. A warning, one I don't want to heed.

"Try, I dare you. But be aware the beating will be more than any other you've endured. My father is ruthless and expects obedience. You'd do well to behave accordingly, for your own good if nothing else."

"Why are you so terrified of him? Can't you just leave this place behind?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as he gently lays me on the bed. Curling my legs to my chest for warmth, I pull the thin blanket over me, feeling exposed and vulnerable in this dimly lit room.

"No one leaves the island unless it's with him. We're bound to this place; nowhere else to go. Everything we need is here," he murmurs, the weight of resignation heavy in his tone. "And every person..."

"Who is it that makes you stay?" I press, my teeth chattering from the cold and fear coursing through me.

"My mother," he replies with a shrug, a flicker of pain crossing his face as he rummages through the drawers, searching for something—anything—to make me more comfortable. After a moment of searching, he returns, holding a couple of items draped over his arms like a lifeline.