Page 306 of The Professor's Wife

My smile stretched wider when I looked back at his still reserved expression. “I’d like that.”

I opened the cabinet under the sink to fetch a dishwashing pod and bent down.

Behind me, Oliver continued. “I’ve had some issues with a student—”

A soft thud hit the ground by my feet. My face burned again as I glimpsed the birth control packet that slipped out of my bra. I quickly swept it up, but there was no mistaking the crinkling sound it made as I twisted around and buried it under a bag of sponges.

Oliver had stopped talking. I slowly rose with the dishwashing pod in my hand and opened the dishwasher. I could feel his eyes hard on me. I must have looked faint to him because he gritted out, “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing—”

He was on his feet and coming at me, but his focus was on the cabinet beneath the sink. I stepped back, nearly tripping over my bare feet as he stood still for a moment and turned his eyeson me. Hard and cold. His threat made the hairs on my skin rise. “If you’ve been lying to me, there will be consequences.”

My eyes watered. “Oliver, please, just listen—”

But he was crouched down now and throwing everything out from under the sink. I stepped back and back, watching his vicious movements as items came flying out. I truly did feel like I might faint when I heard the distinct sound of that foil crinkling beneath his touch. He froze immediately and peered down at it.

I couldn’t swallow or speak. I watched him flip it around, reading the name on the back. I could tell the exact second he knew what it was. His spine straightened. He turned around and looked up at me. True shock radiated out of his eyes now.

“How long?” he whispered, his voice coated in pain.

I didn’t respond. I studied the betrayed look on his face, trying to discern whether there was true hurt in it, or whether he was more upset that I’d gotten away with something like this right under his nose. He stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

“How fucking long?” he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper as he stepped to me. The foil crinkled harshly in his hand as he gripped it tightly. I saw the wheels spinning in his head. Betrayal and shock twisted into a rage I hadn’t seen in so long.

“How could you do this to me?”

I stepped back again, trying to find my voice. I knew what I needed to do, but it was hard to get my body to cooperate.Run, Daisy. “I didn’t do it to hurt you—”

“BULLSHIT!” he roared suddenly, the veins in his throat protruding as he pointed his finger at me. “You knew exactly what you were doing—”

I spun around and bolted down the corridor. My body tingled with awareness. I heard his heavy footsteps poundingbehind me, and suddenly, I truly did want to flee. I wanted to whip open the front door and feel the warmth on my skin—

He caught me quickly. My scalp burned as he grabbed at my hair and pulled me backwards. He didn’t hold back, pulling so hard that I fell hard onto the floor. Then he dragged me by the hair, even as I kicked out, my body twisting. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay quiet as I looked up at him. At the monstrous look in his gaze. He said things. Horrible things. Things he would do to me. I was a fucking bitch. A whore. Always a whore. I had tricked him, and he wanted to watch me suffer for it. Tears spilled from my eyes, but most of it was from the pain. He dropped me suddenly, and I cried out, looking up at him, pleadingly. “Please, Oliver. Please, listen to me—”

He crouched down, his hand back in my hair. He gripped it tightly and watched the tears fall from my eyes. I could taste the wrath in him. It had only just begun. That single look held everything he wanted to do to me. My heart stilled in my chest as I stared at him, seeing more than just the unfeeling psychopath I was familiar with.

I had pushed him over the edge.

What had I done?

“Please,” I whispered, and this time I felt the plea on my tongue. It felt genuine and laced with terror. He might kill me. Oliver might truly kill me—

His grip on my hair tightened so hard, I let out another cry. Then he jerked my head with so much force, my vision blurred as he smashed my head against the wall.

Sound dimmed as I went under.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

I knew from the bitter taste on my tongue that he’d forced the sleeping pill into my mouth while I’d been out.

When I cracked my eyes open, I didn’t know how long I’d been chained there, in the corner of the cabin shed. There was no source of light. The room was pitched in darkness, and the air was thick with wet heat. My skin was slick with sweat. Hair was plastered to my face, and my clothing was damp.

I eventually sat up, wincing at the throb of pain in my head. The smell of blood was in my nose. I brought up a chained hand and delicately touched the throbbing area on my scalp, sucking in a breath when bursts of pain radiated from my prodding.

My hair felt hard and matted. My nails traced the crusted chunks of dried blood before my arm fell back down. I clasped my hands, recognizing the weight of the chains. Stretching my legs out, I felt the tip of the waste bucket along one foot. Within arm distance, I knew what else I’d find, but I couldn’t be bothered to turn on the little light and read through whatever textbook he had left for me.

Too tired and dizzy, I curled back into a ball and shut my eyes.