Read Silent Daughter 2: Bound for Free Online

fit.
    She shakes her head.
    "Training," she repeats. "What does it mean?"
    "Exactly this," I say, pointing at the glass of orange juice. "I tell you to do something and you comply, or else, there will be punishment. Drink. Now."
    She furls her eyebrows, but does reach for the glass and takes a few big sips from it. I can tell how thirsty she is from the way she gulps down most of the juice within seconds.
    "And?" she asks after she put the glass back down on the table. "Now what?"
    "Tell me," I say. "Why did you tie yourself up? What was going through your head when you did it? And what did you do while you were tied up?"
    She blushes and averts her eyes. Of course.
    "Those marks were pretty visible," I continue. "You weren't easy on yourself, that's for sure."
    "That is not the kind of conversation I want to have right now," she whispers without looking up at me. She picks up the fork and starts shoveling some egg and bacon into her mouth as if she were trying to prevent herself from speaking any further.
    "Too bad," I say. "Because it's the kind of conversation I want to have right now."
    She looks at me, chewing hastily.
    It pleases me to see that the food is to her liking. I hate picky eaters, and I know there are plenty of them among the high society girls of her kind. But Liz has been savoring everything I have given her so far.
    No appetite, my ass.  
    "Why?" she wants to know eventually.
    "You are asking a lot of ‘why’ questions."
    She raises her eyebrows and pulls at her collar. "And that surprises you?"
    I shake my head. “No, of course not.”
    I place my elbows on the table and lean forward to her.
    “I’d like to know you,” I say. “Every part of you, and especially the parts you have been hiding from everybody else.”
    “Why do you think I’m hiding anything?” she asks, raising her chin defiantly.
    “You are,” I state, fixating her with my eyes.
    She doesn’t say anything but stuffs her mouth with the remaining toast.
    “I want coffee,” she mutters with her mouth full.
    I furl my eyebrows as she smirks at me.
    “We can have that conversation,” she clarifies. “But I need my coffee in the morning.”
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 5

    LIZ
     
     
    “I am not your servant,” he says.
    He looks angry. I know that I am walking on thin ice right now. He is in charge; he has the key to the door and the lock around my neck, and he decides how far I am allowed to move.
    But that doesn't mean I can't use what little power I have due to his inexplicable obsession with me.
    "I understand that," I whisper. "And I would get it myself, but you see..." I point at the collar around my neck. "I'm kind of indisposed here."
    His narrows his dark eyes, slowly shaking his head.
    "Are done with your breakfast?" he asks.
    I nod. "Yes."
    He raises his eyebrows.
    "Yes, Master," I correct myself. "Thank you, Master."
    I try my best to sound sincere. The food was delicious, and I was surprised to find myself eating as much as I did, but my desire to thank him is close to non-existent, considering the circumstances.
    I wonder if he cooks it himself? Probably not. However, that would mean that there are other people in this house, at least from time to time, which would make screaming for help a useful option after all. 
    He gets up from his chair makes a move to collect the tray.
    "Did you cook it yourself?" I ask, causing him to stop mid-motion.
    He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter who cooks. I just want you to eat it."
    Of course. Did I really expect him to give me a straightforward answer?
    "I want you to take a shower and make yourself presentable while I am gone," he announces as he picks up the tray. "Do you understand?"
    "For what?" I ask.
    "For me."
    "For you to do what?" I ask, mimicking his tone.
    He furls his eyebrows.
    I flinch when he lets the tray drop back onto the table with a loud bang. Before I get a chance to put up a fight, he has grabbed me by the arm and yanks me up from my chair,