Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 84

Chapter 84

Elara

The room tilted sideways as Marcus yanked me up from the couch. My

legs buckled beneath me–when had they stopped working?-and I

would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed my arm, fingers digging into

flesh hard enough to bruise.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, his voice too loud in my ringing ears.

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

I tried to pull away. Managed to stumble backward a step. Two. But the world was spinning now, the smoke and lights and faces all

blurring into one nauseating swirl, and then his other hand was on

my waist, steering me toward a door I hadn’t noticed before.

“No-” My tongue felt thick, clumsy. “I need to–Julian-”

La

But Julian was still in that chair. Still watching. Still doing nothing.

The door opened. Closed behind us. The noise from the main room

became muffled, distant, like I was underwater.

This room was smaller. Darker. No crystal chandelier, just a single

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lamp in the corner casting everything in shades of red. A massive bed

dominated the center–king–size, covered in deep crimson velvet that

made me think of blood.

Soundproof padding lined the walls. Heavy blackout curtains blocked

the windows. The kind of place designed to keep secrets.

“Much better,” Marcus said. His hand moved from my waist to the

small of my back, pushing me forward. “Nice and private.”

I tried to turn around. To reach for the door handle. But he was faster,

his body suddenly between me and escape, backing me toward the

bed.

“Let go-” I pushed against his chest. He didn’t budge. “Let go of me

“Shh.” His fingers caught my chin, tilting my face up. “We’re just going to have some fun. That’s what Julian brought you here for, isn’t

it?”

“No. No, I-” The room lurched. I grabbed his sleeve to steady myself and immediately regretted it as he took it as encouragement, his free

hand sliding up my arm.

“Playing hard to get?” He laughed. “That’s cute. But we both know you

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don’t have a choice here. Julian’s orders, remember? ‘Do whatever you

want.‘

The bed hit the backs of my knees. I went down hard, the impact

jolting through my spine. Before I could scramble away, Marcus was on me, one knee on the mattress, his hands on my shoulders pinning

me down.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he murmured, and the smell of his breath made my stomach heave. “Let’s see what’s under all these clothes.”

His fingers went to my slip. I swung at him wildly, connected with something–his jaw, maybe–and he jerked back with a curse.

“You little bitch-”

I used the moment to roll sideways, trying to get off the bed, but he caught me by the ankle and yanked. I went down face–first into the velvet, the fabric hot and suffocating against my mouth.

“Stop-” I kicked out. Felt my heel connect with something soft. He grunted but didn’t let go. “Help! Somebody-”

“Scream all you want.” His weight settled on top of me, crushing the air from my lungs. “Nobody’s coming. These walls are soundproofed.”

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I clawed at the bedspread, trying to pull myself forward. My nails caught on velvet, ripping. He grabbed my wrists, wrenched them behind my back, held them there with one hand while the other went

to his belt buckle.

The metallic clink of it opening echoed in my ears, impossibly loud.

“No-” The word came out garbled, desperate. “Please-”

“Don’t worry.” His mouth was at my ear now, hot breath on my skin. “I’ll make it good for you. Maybe Julian will keep you around after this. You’ll be his little party favor. Isn’t that better than going back to whatever garbage dump you crawled out of?”

Something inside me snapped. I twisted violently, managed to get my arm free, and raked my nails down his face. He roared, his grip loosening just enough for me to scramble backward across the bed.

But he recovered fast. His hand shot out, caught the front of my undershirt, and pulled. I heard fabric tear. Felt cool air on my skin.

“You want to play rough?” His face was contorted with rage now, three long scratches bleeding down his cheek. “Fine. I like it rough.”

He lunged. I threw myself sideways. My shoulder hit the floor hard enough to make stars burst behind my eyes. For a moment I just lay

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there, gasping, trying to remember how to move.

Then his hands were on me again, flipping me over, and I was staring up at him–at his flushed face and glassy eyes and belt hanging open –and all I could think was: This is how it ends. Just like before. In a

room where nobody can hear me scream.

His hand went to my waistband. Started to pull.

And then-

The door slammed open.

The sound was so sudden, so violent, that Marcus actually jumped. I turned my head–a difficult feat when everything was still spinning-

and saw him.

Julian.

He stood in the doorway, jacket gone, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, top two buttons undone. His hair was slightly mussed, like he’d been running his hands through it. But his face–his face was perfectly calm. Almost bored.

Except for his eyes.

Chapter 84

His eyes were ice.

“Marcus,” he said quietly. “That’s enough.”

Marcus sat back on his heels, breathing hard. “Julian. I thought–you

said-”

“I know what I said.” Julian stepped into the room. The door swung

shut behind him with a soft click. “But I think there’s been a

misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” Marcus’s face flushed darker. “You told me to do

whatever I wanted.”

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