The Ruthless Heir

Erica’s [POV]

Judge finishes securing the collar around my neck and then attaches the leash. He can barely look at me. I know because I’ve been staring at him for the last two minutes. There must be some level of contrition in his heart for doing this, but if there is, he’s not caving to it.

“Ready?” he asks gruffly.

I stare up at him, silently pleading with my eyes. Searching for one scrap of humanity, one ounce of the comfort I know he’s capable of providing. But I come up empty.

“I meant what I said,” I whisper. “If you make me do this, I’ll never forgive you.”

His eyes move over me, and I can see the war in them. I want him to change his mind. I want him to tell me that he trusts me, that he believes me. But he doesn’t.

“I don’t negotiate with emotional terrorists,” he answers. “Now come.”

I follow him from the bed because I have no choice. He has a hold on the other end of the chain-link leash attached to my collar, and fighting him at this point will only result in more pain for me.

I try to remember why I’m doing this. It’s impossible to forget his threat against Solana and Georgie. But it doesn’t make it any easier to accept when he stops and points at the floor.

“Kneel.”

I meet his gaze, steeling mine as I slowly drop to the floor and do his bidding.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hand coming to rest on my head. “That’s good, little monster.”

For a moment, I can’t help closing my eyes and allowing myself to feel the warmth of his touch. It’s the comfort I need, even if it’s from the same man who’s making me suffer. But all too soon, it’s gone again.

“Now crawl.” He gives the leash a gentle tug, and I lurch forward with no choice but to follow his command.

I’m not sure what to expect or what he’s going to make me do, but when he opens the bedroom door, and I see Miriam standing there, I really just want to die. He nods at her, and her eyes sparkle with satisfaction when she sees that I’ve been quite literally brought to my knees before her.

I want to spit at her. I want to fucking scream. But I keep repeating the mantra in my head. Georgie and Solana. I’m doing this for them.

“You’re going to spend some time in Miriam’s shoes today,” Judge informs me as he leads me down the hall with the bitch at my heels. “Perhaps it will make you learn to respect what she does for you.”

My anger feels like a hot poker in my chest, stabbing me over and over again as I crawl along the floor like a dog without an ounce of dignity left. I don’t have to look at Miriam to know how much she’s enjoying this. I can feel her gaze boring into the back of my skull.

Judge leads me into my bedroom, and then to the adjoining bathroom. He nods to Miriam again, and she steps around me, staring down at me like I’m the dirt on the bottom of her shoe. She produces a raggedy-looking toothbrush and a pair of gloves, which she reluctantly hands over. Judge’s doing, I’m guessing. I’m sure if it were up to her, she’d probably make me lick the floor clean.

“You can start with the toilet,” she says, her tone haughty. “Don’t skimp on the scrubbing.”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Judge drops the leash from his hand, and it clinks against the floor as I stare at them both incredulously.

“You want me to clean the toilet with a toothbrush?”

“Details matter,” Miriam chirps. “Everything needs to be spotless.”

My gaze moves to the toothbrush, and for a moment, I wonder how it would feel to make her choke on it. But then I remember why I’m here. I despise Miriam with every part of my being. There’s no debating that. But my hatred of her doesn’t outweigh the love I have for my friends. I have to keep telling myself that as I crawl toward the toilet and peek over the bowl.

There’s already some blue cleaning solution in there, so at least there’s that. Despite what they may think, this isn’t the first time I’ve ever cleaned a toilet. I did my fair share of cleaning in boarding school when I got mouthy. But I’ve never had to clean anything with a toothbrush.

Regardless, I get to work because I just want to get it over with. I scrub the bowl for a solid ten minutes, and when I think I’m done, Miriam is quick to point out areas she wants me to redo. Meanwhile, Judge watches on in silence, and my resentment of him only grows.

When I’m finished with the toilet, she makes me wipe down the exterior with a cloth and then hands me another toothbrush and a bucket of soapy water for the floor. That takes me at least a full hour to clean because Miriam won’t shut her goddamn piehole about invisible specks of dirt she claims exist.

I’m shaking with bottled-up rage by the time I finish the bathroom, but it doesn’t end there. Next, they drag me to the kitchen, where I’m put on dishes and floor duty again. When that’s done, she makes me polish all of Judge’s shoes, and then to my horror, hers. Just when I think it might finally end, I’m told I have to clean her bathroom, which is truly fucking disgusting. It’s obvious she’s waited the entire week for this, and there’s piss all over the tile floor that makes me wonder if she even bothered using the toilet.

I’m on the verge of tears by the time I finally finish, but I don’t let them fall. I won’t let them see that they’ve won. I feel disgusting, humiliated, and beat down. All I want to do is crawl into the shower and then bed. But nothing with Judge is ever that simple.

“Now, tell her how sorry you are,” he says. “Tell her how much you appreciate everything she does for you here.”

I stare up at him with flamethrowers for eyes, wishing I could fucking strangle him right now. But I have to bite my tongue. If I can just do this one last thing, I’ll be done, and then I can get back to figuring out how the hell to get out of this place.

“I’m sorry you wound up with two black eyes.” I grit the words out as I glare up at Miriam. “I appreciate all that you do. The food, really, is top-notch. Michelin Star, I’d go as far as saying-”

“Mercedes.” Judge gives me a warning, but it’s cut off by his phone ringing.

He glances at the screen and then at me. “I have to take this. Don’t move.”

I watch him walk into the adjoining bedroom, where he’s still in view but out of earshot. Miriam’s lips curl into a wicked smile, and she cocks her head to the side, staring down at me as if she’s examining a bug.

“How did those words taste coming out of your mouth?”

I try to ignore her, but she’s not about to waste this opportunity.

“You know where you stand now. I’ve worked for this family for years, princess. He’s always going to take my word over yours.”

I clench my jaw, trying to contain myself. I know she’s goading me. She wants a reaction. But it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

“If you think you mean anything to him, you’d be sadly mistaken.” She flicks her gaze to the other room, and I follow it, noting the way Judge is smiling at whoever is on the line.

“I’d venture a guess that’s probably his favorite courtesan. He’s been meeting with her every night since you’ve been here. I’ve never seen him take a liking to anyone the way he has to her. Who knows, maybe he’ll even marry her.”

“You’re a liar,” I hiss.

“Am I?” She shrugs. “Believe what you want. It makes no difference to me. I’m not the idiot who thinks he actually wants you here.”

Her words hurt me, and I know she knows it. When I don’t say anything, she takes it upon herself to keep poking that wound.

“I wonder how much your brother paid him,” she ponders aloud. “In my opinion, there’s not enough money in the world to make it worthwhile. How does it feel to know that men have to be paid just to tolerate your company? I suppose that makes you no different than a whore.”

“Screw you,” I snarl. “You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Oh, I know plenty.” She offers me another evil smile. “These walls are… surprisingly thin. You’d be amazed at what one overhears. And you’d do well to remember that. It would be a shame if any of that information got out. Like your little secret about the courtesan you killed? I wonder what that would do to your reputation. I don’t imagine it would be a good look for you or your brother.”

My face blanches as I realize she’s actually threatening me. As much as I want to pretend it doesn’t matter, we both know it does. She shouldn’t know that. She should never have had the opportunity to hear any of it. And the only reason she did is because of Judge. Because of his carelessness in trusting her and his blindness to what she really is.

I have never been one to take threats lightly. But I can’t fight fire with fire right now. She has the upper hand, there’s no denying that. I’m locked up like a prisoner with zero resources. It seems as if overnight, my entire life has been taken away. I have no access to my friends. My brother can’t even stand to look at me. And Judge isn’t an ally, no matter how much I wanted to believe that maybe he could be. Miriam is right about one thing. I’m only here because there’s something in it for him financially. And the rest, well, I don’t know. Maybe he is meeting with a courtesan every night. I’d have no way of knowing. But I’d have to be delusional to think he wouldn’t. He’s told me himself he won’t touch me. That I won’t know him that way. Whatever jealousy I thought I saw in him… whatever is going on with him stealing my panties… none of that matters. Because he doesn’t care about me, and he never will. He’s proven that today.

“Alright.” His voice drifts closer as his shoes clip across the bathroom floor when he returns. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

Miriam smirks at me as if to say she told me so, and I dip my head so she can’t see the emotions on my face.

“Everything good in here?” Judge asks.

“Oh, we’re just fine,” Miriam tells him. “Ms. De La Rosa offered me a very sincere apology. She promised she won’t be making any more trouble for me, sir.”

He seems confused by her declaration but doesn’t question it as he grabs my leash and turns me around. “Very well. We’ll leave you to it, Miriam.”

My knees ache as I crawl back down the hall to my bedroom. I guess Judge is done letting me stay in his room, and I’m glad for it. I don’t want to smell him. I don’t want to see him. I just want to curl up and die, if I’m being honest. I have nothing and no one. It fucking hurts, and for the first time in my life, I’m questioning why I’m even here. What purpose does my existence even serve?

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Judge reaches for my arm and tries to pull me up, and I yank away, shoving at his hand.

“Don’t touch me,” I snarl.

He stares at me, bewildered by the violence in my tone, and makes the mistake of reaching for me again. This time, I scream.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me again! I hate you. I fucking hate you. Leave me alone!”

“Mercedes.” He stands there, shocked, and I know what it looks like. It looks like I’m losing my mind. But I don’t care. Maybe I finally am.

“I don’t want to see your face,” I choke out as I pry the collar off my neck and toss it onto the ground. “I don’t want to hear your voice. And if you touch me again, I will murder you too. So do us both a favor and just stay the hell away from me.”

I stagger into the bathroom and slam the door behind me, locking it in place. And then, I cry.