Christmas Captive

The apartment was dark. I couldn't hear the usual blare of the TV, and the fact that the door was open was strange. Margaret never went anywhere. I knew instantly something was wrong.

"Margaret?" I called out, carefully opening the door.

No answer.

I turned on the hallway light and gasped when I saw the mess I'd walked into.

The apartment had been ransacked. My things and Margaret's possession lay everywhere, littering the floor. Someone had turned it upside down.

I rushed inside and started screaming the moment I walked into the living room. Margaret was there, in front of the turned-off TV. Her unseeing eyes were staring at nothing, mouth hanging wide open in a silent scream. There was blood everywhere. She'd been shot in the chest.

The rest of it was a blur. I called the police. They tried to accuse me at first, but I had an alibi—the bar job. The intruder had taken anything of value. The money I'd hid, Margaret's jewelry, everything.

They asked me whether I had any idea of who could've done it, and I'd shook my head no. The shame of it all still burned me every time I thought back to that time. It was my fault they killed her. I'd given the man Margaret's name, and now she was gone, and the debt was, in their mind, paid off.

But that wasn't the end of the story.

The apartment I'd been counting on was rented, and the moment the landlord found out what happened, he kicked me out. I spent four nights on the streets before I found a new place. I started dancing at Le Cabaret. Then, the banks came.

In her fifty-eight years, Margaret had racked up an impressive debt with every bank in London. Altogether, she owed over ten thousand pounds. She'd co-signed my name on every one of the loans she'd taken. Nobody believed me when I told them she'd forged my signature. I was the only one left—she'd had no family, and the banks needed someone who'd pay.

So, my new life began. Paying off the loans one by one while dancing at Le Cabaret, trying desperately to pursue my dream which seemed further and further out of reach.

Everything changed when I found out about the auction.

Everything changed when I met him.

As he held me after my nightmare, I wondered whether my luck had finally turned. Maybe Grayson would take care of me. Maybe I'd finally be allowed to dance.

"It's okay," he whispered against my hair. "You're okay, my darling. You're going to be fine."

I burrowed deeper into his embrace, relishing the feeling of being close to him. I wanted so much more—to belong to him, to be his like no other plaything had been before. But he still hadn't revealed the depth of his own feelings for me.

"Can we spend today together?" I whispered.

He pondered my words, then his face broke into a smile. "Of course, Kitty. I'm taking the last few days with you off. You're all mine until Christmas... and I'm all yours."

I was too scared to ask what would happen after that.

***

"We're going to do something fun tonight," Grayson told me over dinner, and I smiled at him.

"Oh?"

"You'll like it," he promised with a devious smile.

"If you say so, I believe you, Sir."

He squeezed my hand beneath the table, and I beamed at him before returning to my food. Butterflies were fluttering in my stomach, more and more every time I was near Grayson. I had been falling for him from the beginning, but now... Now I was foolishly, hopelessly, and desperately in love with the man who'd paid hundreds of thousands to own me for twenty-four days.

After dinner, we relaxed in front of the fireplace together. I sat by Grayson's feet, and he absent-mindedly threaded his fingers through my hair as he went through some paperwork. When the clock struck ten o'clock, he put his phone away and pulled me to my feet.

"The room," he said. "In ten minutes. I want you naked on the bed, Kitty. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." His order sent a shiver down my spine.

I got ready for him. I'd been waxed the day before, and the exercise routine he kept me on had transformed my body from the malnourished, skinny thing it had been before into a perfectly toned figure. I was more confident than I'd ever been before, and I lived for Grayson's appreciative gaze sliding over my body as he drank me in.

I kept my promise, meeting him in the secret room after ten minutes had passed. I sat on the bed, naked and waiting for him, my breath catching in my throat as he entered the room.

I felt shivers go down my spine as Grayson’s figure appeared in the doorway. He stood there, illuminated by the dimmed lights and making my heart race faster than ever. He was carrying a box, and he turned to close the door before bringing it over to the bed.