What He Sacrifices (What He Wants, Book Fourteen) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (7 page)

He was dressed in a long white doctor’s coat.

“Oh, good,” he said.
 
“You’re awake.”
 
He walked over to me and smoothed my
hair back from my face, kissed my forehead.
 
“My pet,” he murmured, gazing at me with
adoration.
 
“My prize.”

Revulsion gurgled up in my throat, and when he
went to kiss my forehead again, I bit his cheek.

He pulled back and slapped me on the face.
 
“Bitch,” he spat.

“Where’s Noah?” I demanded.
 
“What did you do to him?”

His eyes darkened at the mention of Noah’s
name. “Noah isn’t going to save you, Charlotte.”

“Where is he?” I yelled, pulling on my
restraints and making all kinds of noise.
 
“He won me in the auction.
 
He was on his way here.
 
What
the fuck did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything to him.”
 
Professor Worthington was over on the
side of the room now, behind a white room divider so that I couldn’t see what
he was doing.
 
But I could hear the
clang of metal against metal, like he was preparing some kind of tools or
instruments.
 

“Then who bid a million dollars for me?” I
asked.
 
“You?”

“No, Charlotte.”
 
He laughed, a sarcastic little laugh
that made it clear he would never pay a million dollars to own me.
 
“Noah may have been on the phone with
Audi, but he didn’t win you. This isn’t Noah’s game, Charlotte.
 
He has no power here.
 
I made the rules. I bought you fair and
square.
 
You are mine to do with as
I please.
 
I
own
you.”

The understanding washed over me with
devastating clarity.
 
The auction hadn’t
been real.
 
I’d never even had a
chance to be won by someone else.
 
Professor Worthington had worked it out with someone beforehand, had
made it so no one else’s bids would even be considered.
 
It was all for show, so that he could
say I was his property, so that he would have an excuse to do whatever he
wanted to me.

In his twisted brain, now that he’d bought me
fair and square, he had every right to kill me, to torture
me,
to do whatever depraved things he desired.

Professor Worthington reappeared from behind
the curtain, holding a metal tray of what looked like medical instruments
– power drills and sharp scalpels and things I didn’t recognize. He set
them down on a small rolling cart that was next to the table I was tied to.

 
I
whimpered.

“No,” I said.
 
“Please, I don’t...I don’t want to
die.”
 
It came out as a whisper,
even though I hadn’t intended it to.
 

“You need to die,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I’m sorry, but that’s how this works.
 
Noah thought you were his.
 
But I bought you.
 
I
stole
you.
 
And now I will kill you.”
 
He bit his lip.
 
“Of course, first I will use you like
the piece of trash that you are.”

“I thought you said you don’t want to have to
hurt me,” I said, desperately trying to make a connection with him in any way I
could.

“I don’t.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“But you have
disappointed me by getting involved with Noah.
 
And so now you must be ended, just like
the others.”

He smiled sadistically, then reached over and
pulled up my bra top, exposing my breasts.
 
He kneaded my nipples roughly, his hands greasy.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
 
“Why do you hate Noah so much?”

“Please pay attention, Charlotte,” the
professor said, sighing.
 
“This
isn’t about Noah.
 
It’s about his
type.
 
They think they can get away
with anything.”

“Did Noah steal a woman from you?” I asked.
 
“Is that why you’re doing this?”

Professor Worthington’s face darkened and he
twisted my nipple, then pulled back and slapped my breast so hard it
immediately left a red mark. “You think a
woman
is why
I’m doing this?” he demanded.
 
“Women are nothing but whores, Charlotte.
 
They’re not worth risking everything
for.”

He pinched my nipple
harder,
his eyes taking on a crazed, glassy look.

“So then why?” I asked.
 
“Why are you doing this?”

“People like Noah need to be taught a
lesson.
 
He will go to jail,
Charlotte.
 
I will make sure of
it.
 
I will leave your body
somewhere perfect, somewhere that implements him just the right amount.
 
Just like I did with Katie.”

I needed to keep him talking, needed to buy
time.
 
For what, I wasn’t sure.
 
All I knew was that every second he
wasn’t talking was a second he’d be torturing me.

“That was brilliant, what you did with Katie,”
I said.
 
“You really made everyone
think Noah did it.”

“Of course I did!”
 
Professor Worthington said.
 
“I even had an affair with her to make
it look like she’d been sleeping with Noah.
 
And of course, I planted those emails on
his server.”
 
He laughed, hard, a
deep belly laugh.
 
“It was so easy,
Charlotte.”
 
His laugh stopped.
 
“And this will be, too.”

He picked a knife up off the tray and cut at
the cloth around my hips, pulling it off of me until I was naked from the waist
down.

“Very nice,” he murmured.

His hands pushed my legs apart, and he slid the
knife down there, trailing the flat edge of the blade against my clit.

I moaned.
 
“Please,” I begged.
 
“Please,
don’t hurt me.”

“Pain is pleasure, Charlotte,” he said.
 
He took his finger and slid it inside of
me, stretching me painfully.

I began to cry, tears flowing down my
cheeks.
 
This was how I would
die.
 
With Professor Worthington
torturing me, raping me, until my body gave out.

He pushed his fingers into my further, and the
pain was so intense I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.
 
I wished for the sweet relief of the
drugs to take over, to leave me not knowing what was going on, but I was
painfully aware of everything that was happening to me, knew exactly what was
going on, could feel every dry rip of skin.

Professor Worthington stood up and gazed down
at me.

“You are such a whore,” he said.
 
And then he spit onto my stomach.
 
He removed his lab coat and set it over
the chair.
 
Then he began to
unbutton his pants.
 
“Whores need to
be used.”

He pulled his penis out, hard and pale, and
then laid down on top of me.
 
He
pushed my hair back from my face and I groaned out loud.
 

“I’m going to use you now, whore,” he
said.
 
“But it won’t take long.
 
I will be quick.
 
I will be so quick.
 
I will not come inside of you, I will
make sure there’s no evidence.”
 
His
breath was coming in gasps as he talked, his breath hot and rank against my
face.

He gripped my chin in his hand, pressing my
mouth together until my lips puckered.

I could feel his penis growing harder against
me.

“You whore,” he said.
 
“You fucking cunt.”
 
Spittle hit my cheeks as he talked, and I
closed my eyes and waited for him to enter me.

I felt myself disassociating from my body, and
it was a welcome relief.

I floated above myself, staring down at myself
like I was watching a movie.

I wondered if maybe I was already dead.

Suddenly, Professor Worthington stopped.

“I need a long blade,” he said, standing up and
putting his finger back inside of me, probing around roughly.
 
“For after. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room, and I immediately began
screaming.

I screamed until my throat felt raw and angry,
I screamed until I couldn’t scream anymore.
 
I screamed until my breath was gone and
all I could feel was the scratch of skin against my throat.

I pulled as hard as I could on my shackles, hoping
maybe I could break my wrists and slide them out.

I thought about how it would feel to be raped
and tortured, how I’d rather just die now.
 

I wondered if there was a way I could kill
myself.

The door pushed open.

Professor Worthington was back.

I closed my eyes and prayed I would pass out.

“Charlotte,” a familiar voice said.

It was a dream.

It had to be.

I kept my eyes closed tight, not wanting to
open them, not wanting to be wrong, not wanting to wake up.
 
If I was going to die, I would die in
this
dream,
I would die with Noah’s voice lulling me
to sleep.

“I love you, Noah,” I murmured.
 
“I love you so much.”

“Charlotte!” he cried.
 
“Oh my God, Charlotte.”
 
I heard him then, clear as a bell, not
the voice of someone in a dream, but the voice of someone there, here, right in
this room with me.
 
A hand brushed
against my cheek, the touch familiar and comforting.
 
I opened my eyes.

Noah was standing over me, his dark eyes wild
with relief and worry as he took in my condition.

“You’re here,” I said in wonder.

“I’m here,” he said.
 

“But how?”

“I got Josh to drop the charges,” he said.
 
“They let me go.”
 
He shook his head.
 
“That’s not important right now.
 
I’ll explain everything later.”
 
He reached up and touched my
shackles.
 
“The police are on their
way, but we need to get you out of here.
 
The key, Charlotte.
 
Where’s the key?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, struggling to remember
if I’d even seen the key.
 
When I’d
woken up, I’d already been locked in.
 
“It might be on the tray.”

Noah walked over to it, his jaw tightening as
he saw the instruments of torture that were laid out.
 
He picked through them until he found a
small silver key and then he got to work, unlocking the cuffs and removing them
from my wrists and ankles.

“He killed Katie,” I said.
 
“And Nora and Dani, too.
 
He was going to kill me.”

“I know,” he said.
 
“Are you… can you walk?”
 
He voice was controlled and calm, but
his eyes were crazed with worry.
 
He
picked me up off the table and set me down on the ground.
 
I was still wearing the high stiletto
shoes on my feet, and my legs wobbled underneath me.

“I think so,” I said, taking a couple of
experimental steps.

But before I could get any further, the door to
the room opened and Professor Worthington appeared in the doorway.
 
He held a knife in his hand, one with a
long and narrow ridged blade.

When he saw Noah, his eyes widened in
surprise.
 
For a moment, his face
darkened with anger, but then he smiled, a long, slow, evil smile.

“Nice to see you, Noah,” he said, then reached
behind him and shut the door.
 
He
locked it with a click.
 
“I’m so
glad you’re here.
 
Now you can
watch.”

A whimper escaped my lips, and Noah stepped in
front of me.
 
“It’s okay,
Charlotte,” he said.
 
“He’s not
going to hurt you.”

“Stop lying to her!” Professor Worthington
screamed.
 
“You’re lying to
her.
 
I
am
going
to hurt her.
 
I’m going to kill her
and hurt her and you’re going to watch.”
 
He turned to me.
 
“Back on the table,” he commanded,
brandishing the knife.