Kenneth's brow furrowed deep. He crouched to examine her wound, his hands impossibly gentle.
"Betty, I've spoiled you rotten. You think you can do whatever you want!"
A sharp sting spread through my clenched fist. Warm, sticky blood pooled in my palm and seeped between my fingers.
But Kenneth didn't see.
All he saw was the tiny scratch on Eleanor's leg.
"Lock her in the cellar downstairs. Nobody lets her out without my say-so."
The chaos ended with that single sentence.
He scooped Eleanor into his arms and walked away.
And I was escorted into that lightless pit beneath the building.
The cellar was meant for subordinates who stepped out of line, or rivals who needed to disappear for a while.
Now it was mine.
"I'm sorry, Betty. Just hang tight for a bit."
"Once Kenneth cools down, he'll let you out. I'm sure of it."
I sat in the pitch-black cellar. The smell of mold filled my nose, thick and damp.
It reminded me of the basement apartment we used to rent, always wet, always dark.
Back then, all we needed was each other, and every day felt like the best day of our lives.
The days got better. The people didn't.
"You're not bad in bed either, you know!"
"Kenneth showed me all your videos and photos."