Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

HOPE

H ope stared out the car window, the London streets blurring past as they drove in silence. Seth's question echoed in her mind, repeating itself like a broken record. She knew he was waiting for an answer, but how could she explain something she barely understood herself? How could she articulate the tangled mess of emotions that seemed to tighten around her heart whenever he was near?

Seth was dangerous for her—that much she knew instinctively. He had a way of getting under her skin, of making her feel things she had thought long buried. But the why of it eluded her, leaving her grasping for reasons that slipped through her fingers like sand.

When they finally pulled up in front of their townhouse, Hope was no closer to figuring it out. The imposing structure loomed before them; its dark brick exterior shrouded in the dim light of the streetlamps. She stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the cobblestones as she walked toward the door, her mind still spinning.

Seth followed her inside, the tension between them thick and palpable. The moment the door closed behind them, he turned to face her, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Hope," he began, his voice softer than before, "you don't have to be afraid of me. I just want to understand. What are you so scared of?"

Hope opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. She felt a rising panic, a desperate need to escape the conversation that had suddenly become too real, too raw. She turned away, moving toward the stairs that led up to the owner's suite.

"I'm not afraid," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I just… I just need some space."

Seth didn't try to stop her, but she could feel his eyes on her back as she ascended the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she reached the top, she hurried down the hallway and into the sanctuary of the owner's suite, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

The room was elegantly appointed, with a large four-poster bed dominating the space and a fireplace that cast a warm glow across the dark wood floors. But it was the en suite bath that called to her, a refuge from the storm that raged inside her. She entered the bath, adding scented oils to the tub as she turned on the hot water.

She grabbed a bottle of wine from the small bar cart near the fireplace, pouring herself a generous glass before retreating into the bathroom. The deep soaking tub, set beneath a window that overlooked the garden below, was already filling with steaming water, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus filling the air.

Hope set the glass of wine on the edge of the tub and quickly stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a haphazard pile on the floor. She stepped into the tub, the hot water enveloping her like a comforting embrace, and let out a long sigh as she sank down, closing her eyes.

The wine was cool against her lips as she took a sip, the alcohol warming her from the inside out. For a moment, she let herself simply be, the water and the wine soothing her frayed nerves. But it wasn't long before her mind returned to the questions that had plagued her all evening.

Why was she so afraid of Seth?

It would be easy to blame it all on Royce. After all, hadn't he been the one to teach her that love was a dangerous thing? She had been so careful, keeping her distance, guarding her heart. But then Royce had come along, with his charm and his easy smile, and before she knew it, she had let her guard down.

Had she been in love with him? She could no longer remember. What she did remember, is how he'd reacted when he'd found her in a compromising position. He hadn't asked any questions and had refused to see her. He had simply ripped her heart out and moved on. Eventually, they'd been able to find a way to work with each other on a professional level. But trust had been broken on both sides.

It wasn't even the fact that he'd never questioned whether or not she had been unfaithful. It had been the realization that she had cared more than she had known, that she had let herself hope for something real, something lasting, only to have it all crumble to dust.

But as much as Royce's belief that she had betrayed him had cut her deeply, Hope knew there was more to it than that. Her fear of abandonment ran deeper, rooted in the loss of her parents when she was just a child. Their sudden deaths in a car accident had left her feeling adrift, untethered, and ever since then, she had built walls around herself, determined never to let anyone close enough to hurt her again.

Seth was different, though. He was persistent, relentless in his pursuit of her, and that terrified her more than she wanted to admit. It was as if he saw through her defenses, past the barriers she had so carefully constructed, and that made him a threat. Not because he would hurt her, but because he might actually break through.

And if he left her, she wasn't sure she could survive that.

Hope took another sip of wine, the liquid sliding down her throat like a balm, but it did little to ease the ache in her chest. Knowing the reason for her fear didn't change anything. It didn't make it any easier to let Seth in, to trust that he wouldn't abandon her like everyone else in her life had.

The realization left her feeling hollow, the emptiness inside her a stark contrast to the luxurious surroundings. She was trapped in her own mind, a prisoner of her fears, and no amount of wine or hot water could wash that away.

She stayed in the bath until the water grew cold, then reluctantly climbed out, wrapping herself in a plush towel. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her reflection pale and drawn, and she turned away, unable to face the woman staring back at her.

Hope pulled on a silk nightgown she found in the walk-in closet. Normally she slept in flannel pajamas in cold climates, but it seemed that Seth had rightly seen the folly in that. They were supposed to be part of a loving, kinky couple—flannel PJs had no place there. She drained the last of the wine from her glass, setting it on the nightstand before climbing into the large, empty bed.

She curled up on her side, pulling the covers up to her chin, but sleep was elusive. Her mind kept returning to Seth, to the questions he had asked and the answers she couldn't give. She wished she could turn off her thoughts, drown them out with the rhythm of the city outside, but they persisted, gnawing at her like a relentless tide.

It wasn't until the first light of dawn crept through the curtains that Hope finally awakened from a restless sleep, filled with fragmented dreams, and realized that sometime during the night Seth had joined her. He was spooned against her back with his arm draped over her middle.

Without a word, she slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants as well as a tank top and a bra, and headed down to their home gym to go for a run.

A week later, the townhouse was transformed. The once-empty rooms were now filled with guests, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses echoing off the walls. Seth and Hope had spent the days leading up to the party meticulously preparing, both for their roles as hosts and for the eyes that would be upon them.

The guests were a mix of neighbors and members of Baker Street, including Members of Parliament and Scotland Yard as well as leading businesspeople, each one carefully chosen to further their cover. The party was an opportunity to display their supposed D/s lifestyle among like-minded people and to cement their roles in the eyes of those who might be watching.

Hope moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her expression one of serene contentment, but inside, she was on edge. She could feel Seth's presence nearby, always close enough to remind her of their ruse, but never so close as to give away the tension between them.

She wore a dress that clung to her curves, the deep purple fabric a bold contrast to the dark wood and muted tones of the townhouse. The amethyst collar adorned her neck, a symbol of their supposed dynamic, and she could feel the weight of it with every breath she took.

Seth had insisted on her wearing the collar at all times, saying it would be a powerful statement to the others, and she had reluctantly agreed. But now, as she moved through the crowd, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than just a prop. It felt like a claim, a mark that said she belonged to him, even if only in the eyes of their guests.

She found herself drawn to the garden, the cool night air a welcome relief from the heat and noise inside. The garden was lit by strings of twinkling lights, casting a soft glow over the neatly trimmed hedges and flower beds. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, when she felt a hand on the small of her back.

"Enjoying the party, Mrs. Conway?" Seth's voice was low and smooth, his breath warm against her ear.

Hope stiffened slightly at his touch, but forced herself to relax, to play the part. "Of course," she replied, turning to face him with a smile. "You've outdone yourself."

He returned the smile, but there was something in his eyes, something that told her he wasn't fooled by her act. "I think we've outdone ourselves," he corrected, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her closer.

She allowed it, knowing they had to keep up appearances, but the closeness sent a jolt of electricity through her. She hated how easily he could affect her, how just a simple touch could set her pulse racing.

Before she could respond, a voice interrupted them.

"Seth, Hope," Basil Hargrove greeted them, his tone as smooth as velvet. He was a tall man, impeccably dressed, with a smile that didn't quite reach his cold, calculating eyes. "Lovely party."

"Basil," Seth replied, his voice polite and welcoming. She couldn't help but think Seth's skills were wasted behind a computer screen. The man was an outstanding field operative. "We're glad you could make it."

Hargrove's gaze shifted to Hope, lingering a moment too long on the collar around her neck. "Hope, you look stunning, as always," he said, his voice carrying an undertone that made her skin crawl.

"Thank you," Hope replied, her smile tight. She could feel Seth's grip on her waist tighten slightly, a subtle but unmistakable warning.

Hargrove seemed to sense the shift in tension, and his smile widened. "I must say, you two make quite the couple. The chemistry between you is… palpable."

Hope forced herself to laugh lightly, though the sound felt hollow in her ears. "We do our best," she said, glancing at Seth, who was watching Hargrove with a sharpness in his eyes that hadn't been there a moment ago.

Hargrove's smile didn't falter, but there was something predatory in his gaze, something that set off alarm bells in Hope's mind. "I have no doubt," he said, his tone laced with insinuation. "In fact, I'd love to see more of your dynamic in action. Perhaps at Baker Street?"

The suggestion hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Hope could feel Seth tense beside her, and she knew what was coming next. This was the moment they had been waiting for, the moment when their ruse would either succeed or fail.

"You would, of course, be welcome," Seth said smoothly, his voice betraying none of the tension she knew he felt. "We've been looking forward to getting back to regularly playing there."

Hargrove's smile widened, and he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, sleek card. He held it out to Hope, his fingers brushing hers as she took it.

"Call this number," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "There are other places to play besides Baker Street."

Hope swallowed hard, the card cool in her hand as she nodded. "Of course," she replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

Hargrove lingered for a moment longer, his eyes sweeping over her with a possessiveness that made her skin crawl before he finally turned and disappeared back into the crowd.

The moment he was out of sight, Hope let out a breath. She looked down at the card in her hand, the simple black lettering stark against the white background. Just a name and a number, but it felt like so much more.

Seth's hand remained on her waist, his grip firm, grounding her as she tried to process what had just happened.

"That went well," he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of relief.

Hope nodded, her mind still spinning. "Too well," she murmured, her eyes still on the card.

Seth's thumb brushed against her side, a small gesture of comfort that she hadn't expected. "We're in," he said, his voice steady. "This is what we wanted."

Hope nodded again, but the sense of unease wouldn't leave her. She knew they were one step closer to their goal, but with that step came a new set of dangers, a new level of risk. And as much as she hated to admit it, the greatest danger wasn't from Hargrove or those of the Obsidian Cartel. It was from the man standing beside her, the man who was slowly, inexorably, breaking through the walls she had built around herself.

And that terrified her more than anything.