Page 54 of Payback
Chapter 28
-Jared-
I wasn’t certain how much time had passed as I sat on the floor. Slowly, reality reasserted itself, and I realized that I had left Alison alone in the living room for quite a while. Swiftly, I got to my feet, hastening to check my appearance in the mirror. I attempted to regain my composure before I strode out of the bathroom. As I made my way to the living room, I discovered it vacant.
“That bitch!” I growled, assuming she had fled.
Turning on my heel, I retraced my steps toward the front door. I was taken aback to find it not wide open, nor catching the sound of a woman's voice crying for help as she fled down the street. I walked away, navigating through another corridor, systematically checking room after room until, at last... I found her.
In a small room designed as a bar and relaxation area, she wiped the counter, close to resembling a bartender—except for her absurd maid attire. Just seeing her in that moment stirred an inferno of anger within me. Memories of what she had subjected me to, coupled with her taunts from earlier, ignited a blazing rage. She had shattered my life in countless ways, and yet here she was. I had her within my grasp. However, she was still striving to assert her dominance, but she wouldn’t succeed. If she wished for originality, then so be it.
“Alison,” I called out, my voice dripping with darkness.
She raised her head, her gaze locking onto me.
“Come here.”
Obediently, she approached me.
“I’m famished. It’s time you prepared a meal for me.”
She sighed, a slight shrug following, yet this was hardly an unfamiliar task. A storm was brewing, though. She walked past me and headed for the kitchen, while I settled into a chair in the adjoining dining room. Pouring myself a drink, I hoped it might steady my nerves, but my fury remained. It had been a while since I’d experienced such an intense reaction, yet Alison had awakened something dormant within me. I had willingly welcomed the past back into my home, and it was poised to stay for a month. I had brought this upon myself, and I simply needed to regain control. Fortunately, the preparation of the meal afforded me some time, and within it, I managed to regain my composure. She presented the food, and I took a single bite before forcefully placing my fork down, leaving her stunned.
“This is utterly revolting. Try again,” I ordered.
She stared at me, a mixture of disbelief and shock etched across her features. I turned my gaze toward her, a challenge evident in my eyes. Sighing, she retrieved the dish and made another attempt. Upon her return, the flavors were more pronounced. The taste was considerably better, but my appetite wasn’t for food. I spat out the bite, shoving the plate away.
“What the hell is wrong with your cooking today?” I growled at her. “It tastes like garbage!”
She appeared even more flabbergasted, but I instructed her to make yet another attempt. This back-and-forth continued, her own frustration building as nothing she presented met my satisfaction. Eventually, her defiance grew, and she daringly placed an untouched apple on a plate before me—whole, without any slices.
“What’s this?” I demanded.
“I’ve run out of ideas, Master. Since you despise everything that I create, here’s an apple. I didn’t change it. It’s barely been touched by me. Now you can’t criticize.”
I seized the apple, my lips twisting into a sinister smile. Then I hurled it against the wall, relishing the sound of its impact. Alison flinched, unaccustomed to witnessing my wrath firsthand. Swiftly, I rose to my feet, reaching out to grip her hair firmly. She winced as my grasp tightened.
“Now’s not the time to be sassy,” I snarled. “You doubt my ability to create an original idea? You believe I can’t subject you to unimaginable torment? Do you desire such infliction of pain that will leave everlasting marks all over your body? Are you prepared to revert to your pitiable pretense, marred by scars? Utter the word, and I’ll bind you to a chair, exposing you to agonies you never fathomed. This won’t be about humiliation. It will be about complete destruction. Once you’re bleeding and sobbing, I’ll fuck your ass and relish the way your plead for mercy. So, Alison, give the command, and witness the emergence of the true beast within. Or cease your irritating behavior and SERVE ME SOME REAL FUCKING FOOD!”
I had never witnessed Alison in a state of fear. I’d observed her feeling slightly uneasy on occasion, and I recognized the expression of being backed into a corner. In her office, I had glimpsed that vulnerable look. However, as I drew her closer to me, our faces mere inches apart, and I unleashed a torrent of unspeakable threats, Alison experienced it. For the first time in her existence, she trembled with an overwhelming fear of me. She could sense the raw tension emanating from me, comprehending that my words carried unwavering weight. If she desired real torture, the kind that elicits pleas for a swift demise, I could undoubtedly provide it. Yet, what genuinely terrified her was the prospect of returning covered in irremovable scars. She recognized that such a fate would cost her everything. If she couldn’t conceal the marks, society would demand explanations. The truth wouldn’t liberate her. Having surrendered herself to me, her family wouldn’t welcome the scandal gracing tabloid headlines. They’d suppress it, as expected.
“Do you understand me, slave?” I snarled.
“Y-Yes,” she whispered, her fear so obvious in both her eyes and her trembling voice.
“Then you had better return with something edible,” I declared.
I savored the moment, propelling her backward, causing her to stumble slightly. Shaking, she averted her gaze and hastened into the kitchen, while I seated myself, striving to regain my control. Destroying Alison quickly held little allure. It wouldn’t provide real satisfaction. Observing her crumble within minutes wouldn’t rectify the balance or even the score. The process had to be done slowly to ensure that it would haunt her forever.
Alison’s absence was brief. Soon, she returned bearing more food. It looked exactly like what I had previously tasted, and I emitted an exasperated groan.
“I’ve already tasted this, and it was repulsive,” I reminded her.
“I’ve made alterations,” she assured me.
I shook my head, tired of her games. Rising once more, I seized her, positioning her before me. Bending her forward, I pressed her face into the food, smearing it across her face. She struggled, attempting to resist being pushed into the dish and avoiding choking.
“Then you will eat it, slave,” I growled. “Determine whether you can stomach such wretchedness.”
