Scarlett Pov
I placed my hands on my chest, trying to calm my ragged breathing.
He held me tightly on the bed, and I heard Damien say over the phone,
"Freaking hell you—get down here." Mr cross spoke from the end of the line, clearly annoyed.
He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed before turning back to me.
I found myself holding my breath, bracing for impact.
Glancing at his wristwatch, he said, "You have just thirty minutes to do whatever you want and meet me. Please run this time."
And just like that, he climbed off me.
I sighed in relief and struggled to sit up, my whole body aching. Then it hit me—I was still tied up, and he was leaving. How the heck was I supposed to eat?
"Mr. Grey, you haven't unchained my hands," I called out.
He stopped, tilted his body slightly, and threw the key at me.
With a cold, unfriendly voice, he said,
"Sort it out yourself."
He emphasized "yourself," making sure I understood.
