Tears of Tess by Pepper Winters

new ending.
     “ Bon
soir, esclave .”
    My
eyes soared up to the first landing of the giant blue, velvet staircase.
Massive works of art hung like armament on gold gilded walls.
    A
man in a grey chequered suit, complete with black shirt, silver tie, and short
dark hair watched from the landing.
    My
entire body ignited as his jaw clenched. His gaze unclothed and terrified me.
Everything about him screamed ruthlessness and power. He held himself proud and
regal as if this was his castle and I was the latest subject.
    Our
eyes locked, and something tingled across my flesh. Fear? Terror? Something
inside knew he was dangerous. 
    His
lips twitched as I sucked in a breath. He removed hands from his pockets and
placed them on the banister, his fingers long and strong, even from this
distance. The way he stared became too much. I felt undone, stripped to my soul.
    I
stepped back, bumping against the guard behind. He bent his head, whispering in
my ear, “Say hello to your new master.”
     

 
    *Sparrow*
     
    T he
word master echoed like a bad tuning fork.
    Master. Master.
    No,
he wasn’t my master. Not with his short, sleek hair and sharp widows peak. Not
with his clenched, stubble-smooth jaw and trim physique. He was not my
master. No one was.
    Tears
pricked as I thought about Brax. He seemed a world away compared to this
reality. Brax was rough and boyish, a hard worker through and through. The man,
staring with pale jade eyes and an unreadable chiselled face, lived in total
contrast. Power radiated like visible waves, unsettling me more than anything.
    He
wasn’t the fat, repulsive bastard who used wealth to buy sex slaves. He wasn’t gross
or any other monstrous things. Who is this man?
    My
eyes widened, drinking him in—the owner of this house. The owner of… me. No,
never.
    I
didn’t care who he was, because my life belonged to me . I stuck out my
chin, glaring. I wouldn’t be intimidated by wealth or stature. I didn’t care he
was tall and moved like he expected the world to lick his shoes. I would never
lick anything of his.
    The
man never broke eye contact, ensnaring me in his gaze. Slowly, he pushed off
the banister and moved toward the stairs.
    I
gulped.
    He
was smooth water—effortless in refinement but just like still water, dangerous
if you couldn’t swim. Deadly rips and currents lurked deep below the surface. I
eyed him, trying to figure out what sick pleasures he indulged in that normal,
willing women were hard to come by.
    My
heart raced with every step he took, descending toward me.
    The
guard pushed me forward. “Bow to your new master.”
    I
tripped, but regained my footing instantly. My fists shook, I clenched them so
hard. My injuries reminded me all of this was wrong. In some warped sense, it
seemed innocent like the owner of the house merely welcoming a guest.
    “I
have no master,” I said, putting every ounce of rebellion into the words. “Let
me go.”
    The
man stopped mid-step, head cocked. His fingers curled around the banister,
showing manicured nails, no calluses in sight. Once again, pale eyes connected
with mine, sucking my thoughts into a vacuum.
    Up
till now, his face had been unreadable, but as we stared, flashes of emotion
buffeted me. Anger. Interest. Annoyance. Resignation. And finally, in a blaze
of jade… lust.
    My
breath quickened and I tried to step back again, only to collide with the wall
of the guard’s chest.
    The
guard placed a hot, heavy hand between my shoulder blades and pushed, forcing
me into a struggling, painful bow. “Do as you’re told.”
    So
many thoughts collided. I wanted to spin and steal the gun in the holster under
his arm. I wanted to shoot everyone. I wanted to slash at the gorgeous artwork
and priceless artefacts around the room. Such things of beauty did not deserve
to belong to a man whose goons forced a sex slave to bow.
    “Bastard,”
I muttered, hating I couldn’t do any of it. All I could do was obey—for now.
    “Stop.
If she