I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 51: Chapter 51

Lysander’s POV

My hand trembled violently as I stared down at the amber prescription bottle sitting heavily in my palm.

The thick silence of my locked bedroom felt claustrophobic, the dark shadows creeping inward from every corner.

My mind raced back to Gideon’s cruel smirk outside my door, his venomous taunts echoing in my head like an inescapable curse.

My father can’t guard your door forever... and you still have to sleep eventually.

Desperate for a single hour of rest to escape the horror of the gala, I popped two of the supplements into my mouth.

I swallowed them dry, my throat raw and aching as I stumbled blindly toward my massive canopy bed in the dark. Within fifteen minutes, an unnatural, suffocating heavy fog rolled through my brain, turning my limbs into useless lead.

My eyelids slammed shut, dragging my consciousness down into a deep, paralyzed abyss where I couldn’t move or cry out.

Sometime in the pitch-black hours of the night, the heavy fog in my mind shifted into a terrifying, weightless nightmare.

I felt the heavy mattress sink beside me, a sudden wave of cold air washing over my skin as my blanket was slowly pulled back.

My body was completely locked in place, my throat paralyzed by the heavy medication running thick through my bloodstream.

I couldn’t open my eyes, couldn’t scream, couldn’t even twitch a finger as heavy, possessive hands began roaming over my bare skin.

I felt long fingers tracing the sensitive curve of my waist, shifting my shirt aside with a slow, agonizing deliberation that made my skin crawl.

A sharp, painful pressure bruised my collarbone, followed by hot, wet lips dragging brutally across the soft skin of my neck.

I tried desperately to wake up, to fight against the suffocating sedation holding my mind hostage, but my body refused to obey.

Whoever was leaning over me in the dark marked my skin, leaving a trail of burning heat in their wake.

By the time the heavy fog finally cleared from my brain, bright morning sunlight was streaming aggressively through my bedroom windows.

I gasped out loud, sitting up so fast my head throbbed with a sickening, dizzying ache that made my stomach turn over violently.

My heart hammered in my chest as I scrambled off the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floorboards as I rushed to the bathroom.

I threw off my shirt and stared into the full-length mirror, a choked sob escaping my lips at the sight reflected in the glass.

Dark purple bruises and distinct, angry hickeys were scattered across my neck, collarbone, and the bare skin of my upper chest.

"No... no, no, no," I wept softly, my shaking hands flying up to cover the fresh, humiliating marks covering my skin.

My mind immediately jumped to Gideon’s threat from the night before. He had handed me the pills himself, he knew I would be completely sedated and helpless against whatever he planned to do to me.

He must have used a master key to unlock my door in the dead of night, carrying out his sick, twisted revenge while I was out cold.

I turned around frantically and ran back into the bedroom, checking the heavy wooden door to see if it was still locked.

The deadbolt was engaged, but the realization brought zero comfort; a family like the Thornes had access to every lock in this mansion.

Tears smeared down my pale cheeks as I scrubbed frantically at my skin under the burning water of the shower, trying in vain to wash away the phantom touch.

The marks remained stubbornly dark and prominent against my fair skin, forcing me to throw on a thick, high-collared black sweater that covered up to my jaw.

I swallowed two painkillers to dull the throbbing ache in my skull, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I pulled on a pair of dark jeans.

I couldn’t stay hidden in this room forever; hiding would only tell Gideon that his cruel, cowardly attack had broken me completely.

I unlocked my bedroom door and forced myself to walk down the grand hallway, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

As I descended the marble staircase into the main foyer, the low, quiet clink of silver utensils echoed from the formal dining room.

I paused near the archway, taking a deep, shuddering breath before stepping into the room to face the monsters waiting inside.

Darius sat at the head of the long table, sipping his morning espresso while reading the financial news.

Gideon sat to his right, looking impeccably groomed, completely relaxed, and utterly composed as he casually cut into his breakfast.

The moment my shoes clicked against the hardwood floor, both men shifted their attention away from their plates and toward the doorway.

Gideon’s dark eyes locked onto me instantly, a slow, sickening smirk creeping across his lips as his gaze dropped straight to my high collar.

He looked insufferably smug, his eyes glinting with a quiet, triumphant satisfaction that made my stomach twist into a knot of deep nausea.

"Good morning, Lysander," Darius spoke smoothly, placing his porcelain teacup down with a quiet clatter that shattered the heavy, tense atmosphere.

"Did you sleep well?" Darius added, his dark, calculating eyes tracking over my pale face and the thick fabric covering my throat.

I stood frozen near the edge of the table, my hands clenching into tight fists inside the oversized sleeves of my sweater.

"I... I slept fine, sir," I lied through my teeth, my voice barely louder than a whisper as I kept a safe distance from the table.

Gideon let out a quiet, amused scoff, taking a slow sip from his juice glass while keeping his venomous gaze pinned entirely on me.

"You look a bit pale, little brother," Gideon purred low, his tone dripping with a terrifying, double-edged amusement that made my blood run cold. "Are you sure those sleep suppressants didn’t give you any... restless nightmares last night?" he added, tilting his head slightly with a mocking frown.

My jaw clenched tight, my pulse spiking into sheer panic as Gideon’s words practically confessed to the horrific intrusion in the dark.

He was enjoying every single second of my terror, using my silence and my fear of Darius to keep me trapped in absolute agony.

"I’m fine," I choked out, refusing to sit down at the table anywhere near him or his father. "I’m not hungry."

Darius set his newspaper down flat on the table, his sharp, observant gaze shifting slowly between Gideon and my trembling frame.

"Sit down and eat something, Lysander," Darius commanded gently, though the underlying authority in his tone left zero room for argument. "You have classes today, and I will not have you collapsing on campus because my son’s foolishness kept you up late," he added firmly.

I swallowed hard, my legs shaking as I slowly pulled out a chair at the far end of the table, as far away from Gideon as humanly possible.

Gideon watched my every move with that same sickening, predatory smile, leaning back in his leather chair with total, unbothered arrogance.

I picked aimlessly at a piece of dry toast, my mind spinning completely out of control as I sat trapped between two dangerous men.

Every second spent inside this mansion felt like living beside a tightened coil, waiting for the exact moment it would snap and destroy me.

Darius folded his paper neatly, his eyes lingering on my face with an intense, quiet focus that made my skin prickle with discomfort.

"Gideon," he said suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the heavy silence of the dining room like a sharp blade. "You will drive Lysander to his university campus today," Darius instructed coldly, not even bothering to look at his son as he spoke.

Gideon’s smug smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a dark flare of irritation. "Father, I have my own schedule to keep—"

"I did not ask about your schedule," Darius interrupted smoothly, his voice dropping an octave into a low, terrifying warning.

"You embarrassed this family last night at the gala, and you will ensure Lysander arrives safely to his lecture halls without further incident."

Gideon’s jaw clamped shut, the muscle in his cheek working violently as he glared across the table at his father in bitter silence.

"Is that clear, Gideon?" Darius pressed softly, taking a final sip from his espresso cup as he waited for a response.

"Crystal, sir," Gideon spat out through gritted teeth, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his linen napkin under the table.

I stared down at my plate, my heart sinking straight to the floor at the thought of being trapped inside a car alone with Gideon again.

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