Shackled To The Enemy King

Catherine’s chest heaved. She grabbed his hand, trying to make him loosen his hold, but he refused to let go.

"You still haven’t learned your lesson," he said. "I’ll teach you whom you belong to."

Then his lips crashed against hers, and he shoved her onto the couch.

With one rough pull, her dress was stripped from her. A few of the maids who were still there gasped. Catherine had built a good rapport with them. Even though they feared Dorian, they genuinely liked her.

"Leave!" he shouted.

The servants staggered away. They still didn’t have the courage to oppose Dorian.

Catherine gasped and tried to cover herself, but he pinned her hands above her head.

Her heart churned with a storm of emotions—rage, humiliation, fear, and burning resentment. Every part of her felt as though it had been set on fire.

Every instinct urged her to fight—to claw at him, to leave scars across his face that would never heal. She buried the impulse. Rage was exactly what he expected, and survival required something far more difficult.

This was no different from the way he had treated her in that tent in her previous life. But she knew she was not going to submit. Not this time. And fighting him now would not be wise.

He unbuckled his belt and lifted her skirt.

She swallowed the revulsion rising in her throat and became someone else.

"What’s the hurry?" she asked in a low voice.

His grip on her wrists loosened. She kept her arms where they were and met his eyes with a warm smile.

"The night’s still young," she said. "At least let me take a shower first. Then we can..."

Her voice trailed off as she slowly licked her lips.

"Or..." She glanced around the room. "I don’t mind continuing here. My hair feels like straw with all the hairspray. If you don’t mind..." she said with a soft, sultry chuckle.

Dorian stared at her. At that moment, the phone in Dorian’s pocket vibrated. He glanced at the screen.

Catherine’s heart pounded. Was Jonathan’s plan working? Was she saved?

She slowly lowered one hand, her gaze falling to the obnoxiously large diamond on her finger. "That’s one big rock," she said, in a sultry tone, to stroke his ego. "You’ve thought about me a lot."

Dorian didn’t move.

His eyes searched hers as though trying to decide whether he believed her.

The phone vibrated again.

Hiding the frantic pounding of her heart, Catherine rested a hand against his chest. "What do you say?" she whispered into his ear.

Dorian suddenly pushed her back onto the couch and answered the call.

Catherine remained lying where she was, no longer caring about her humiliation. She was playing an incredibly dangerous game. She refused to let Dorian corrupt her body. More than a promise to Maximilian, it was a promise she had made to herself, and she intended to keep it.

Dorian responded only with quiet hums throughout the call. When he ended it, he looked back at her.

Catherine met his gaze with wide, expectant eyes.

"Go take a shower and wait for me," he said.

Catherine gave him a sultry smile. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted her dress to cover herself and stood.

His eyes followed her every movement.

She walked toward the phone still lying on the floor, but Dorian picked it up before she could reach it.

"It’s broken," he said. "I’ll send it in for repairs."

He slipped it into his pocket.

Catherine swallowed. This wasn’t over. She could feel it. Dorian was still dangerous—more dangerous than ever.

She merely shrugged and turned toward the stairs. She still had another phone. She only hoped Jonathan was already doing something.

Or...

Was that phone call related to him?

"Stop."

Catherine nearly threw up.

Still, she forced a smile and turned to face him.

"Don’t walk barefoot," Dorian said, nudging her shoes toward her with the tip of his own. "It’s unbecoming," he muttered under his breath. "Like a filthy commoner."

"Sorry," Catherine said.

She slipped the shoes back on and slowly walked upstairs, each step far slower than the frantic pounding of her heart.

She did as she had promised and stepped into the shower.

Then she heard the bathroom door open.

Her jaw clenched.

She picked up the razor lying nearby.

A moment later, she put it down and reached instead for the heavy glass bottle sitting on the counter.

She was not going to surrender to him.

But Dorian left. Catherine let out a long sigh of relief.

She leaned against the wall outside her room, closed her eyes once, and forced every trembling emotion back behind the mask.

She quickly changed into fresh clothes and retrieved her spare phone.

Dorian had not cut the pearl lanyard without reason. He had wanted to sever her connection to the outside world.

Too bad for him. She had another phone.

The screen had barely finished powering on when a message appeared.

Sebastian Remington

[It’s done.]

A breath escaped her in a shaky laugh that was half sigh, half gasp.

Finally.

She sent another message to Jonathan. [It’s over. Prepare my jet.] This would stop them from getting here.

Without wasting another second, Catherine slipped out of her room and headed toward Dorian’s study.

The scratches he had left on her neck stung with every step. Several maids glanced at her before hurriedly covering their mouths. Their faces paled as their eyes lingered on the marks.

When Catherine met their gaze, shame crossed their expressions. They lowered their heads and quietly hurried away.

She forced herself not to think about it. There would be time to break down later. For now, she had work to do.

She entered Dorian’s study and quietly closed the door behind her. The file she had discovered days earlier was exactly where she had left it.

Working quickly, she photographed every new document Dorian had added since then, before slipping a flash drive into his laptop.

The copying process felt agonizingly slow.

Every second that passed tightened the knot in her stomach.

Come on...

Come on...

The progress bar finally reached one hundred percent.

Catherine pulled out the flash drive, slipped it into her pocket, and turned toward the door.

The handle moved.

Her heart stopped.

The door slowly opened.

Dorian stood in the doorway.

Instinctively, Catherine lowered the hand holding her phone, sliding it into her pocket in one smooth motion.

She was almost certain he had seen it.

He remained perfectly still, blocking the only exit.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was quiet.

His eyes were anything but.

Catherine felt her heartbeat slam against her ribs.

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