ZANDER
Ella’s doing well. The sessions with Damon, the new coping habits—all of it is everything I could have hoped for when The Firm took over her care. But something makes me suspicious. Like it’s going too well.
Like she might be hiding something, or burying something. Separating from me in a way I don’t like. But then, of course, that’s the whole point. That Ella will grow to a place where she doesn’t need any of us anymore.
Except … I want her to need me. The way I’m coming to need her. Or maybe it’s only a powerful desire.
I am so fucking conflicted with her. She’s still grieving and I have no idea what she truly wants. A Dom or more. Let alone what she’s capable of committing to once her life goes back to what it was.
We’re in her sitting room in the middle of all that blue, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. Ella is curled into a chair with a book on her lap, and all I can do is sit here and stare at her. Marveling at her progress but hesitant to let my guard down.
It’s a cold, dreary day. We could spend days like this in a hundred different ways. Like in my dungeon, for instance. I want to show it to her, but I don’t know if she’d approve.
It’s one thing to have this relationship in the comfort of her home. It’s another to pluck her away and toy with her like I truly want to do.
I don’t know if it would meet her standards. Ella’s house is a testament to her wealth. She’s swimming in it. Drowning in it. Would she even accept the lifestyle I want? I don’t realize I’ve started looking out the window at the thrashing trees until she speaks.
“Z?”
“Yeah?”
A hint of worry in her dark eyes. “Would you hold me?”
I open my arms to her, and she drops the book to come to me. Her only stop is by the fireplace to hit the switch. It springs to life in the grate, filling the space with orange flames, and Ella crawls into my lap. It’ll be winter soon. The snow will blanket us in. It’s different from my place in Pennsylvania. Everything is different here, and I’m not sure how the two worlds fit together. I’m not sure if they can.
It’s all going well, but can this be sustained?
Ella rests her head on my shoulder, and I tuck a blanket around her on my lap. There. This is the way to sit in silence together. With her so close I can feel her heat.
Hypothetically, how would I live without her? I can’t exactly picture her in my house in lower Pennsylvania. It’s significantly smaller than her place. Substantially less in nearly every way and I have never wanted to live in a home that feels … expansive and impersonal. My home doesn’t have a separate sitting room and a rec room and an enormous backyard. It doesn’t come with gardening staff and people to take out the flower beds if you want them redone. Ella lives in a world surrounded by people to support her, care for her, and work for her. It would just be me in Pennsylvania. I don’t have any desire for this life.
I can’t even be sure I’d be with The Firm anymore, and I have to question myself—really question myself—about whether my desire for Ella is pure desire for her or if it’s strengthened by the fact that I’ve given up my job for her. For a long time, The Firm was the steadiest thing in my life. The jobs we took under my brother’s direction provided a shape to my days, a way to make good money, and a reason to get up in the morning.
I’m not questioning if Ella would be enough. She would be—I know that by the way she fits into my arms. By the way her scent makes me feel, which is powerful and peaceful at the same time. But would I be enough for her, if I told her I didn’t want this?
I breathe through the thoughts in my head. They are just thoughts, and having them doesn’t make any one of them truer than the others. I hold my emotions at a distance and try to consider them with an impartial mind. I’m obviously unsettled about how things have been left with The Firm. I’m wishing for more solid footing in my life, and not having it is causing some fear and anxiety. But mostly, overriding everything, is how much I want Ella. How much I care for her. I can’t keep that feeling at any kind of distance. It’s too close.
“Would you ever want to live with me? To continue our power exchange in my home, rather than here?"
Her head comes up, curiosity running through the shades of amber in her dark eyes. “Yes.”
“Even if it wasn’t all of this?” I gesture around us and the obvious wealth. “I can take care of you, but this is not a lifestyle I ever imagined for myself.”
She pushes herself up to look into my eyes. “Would you ever want to live with me, then? Even if it was all this?”
I smirk at her to cover the instant twinge of uncertainty that burrows into my gut. “I don’t think I could maintain this lifestyle for you.”
“You wouldn’t have to. I’ve never had to work a day in my life. When my father died, I got everything. There wasn’t anyone else to inherit a thing. Even his business partners and everyone else suing for this and that and claiming rights …” She lies back down, as if comforted by the memory and explains, “Kam took down every single one of them and I got every dime to my father’s name.”
There’s something … off about the manner in which she delivered that statement. Like she’s used to the vultures, used to litigation.
“Did you expect that? That when he died, you’d have to fight to keep what he left you?”
There’s a sad smile that graces her lips as she peers into the fire. “In this world, there is always someone wanting what’s yours. I remember once, I …” she hesitates and I tell her to go on, to tell me what she’s thinking.
Swallowing thickly she admits, “Kelly, Trish and I, we were as thick as thieves.”
“You still are from what I can tell.”