I do as he asked, and he takes one leg and then the other, pulling on knee-high white socks and buckling the Mary Janes. “Let’s go, Miss Finnegan.”
The voices of men send a shiver down my spine. The drugs in my system are still moving through me, and moments shift out of place. I’m suddenly in a room with the man I hate more than anything, hard eyed and cruel, yet smiling like a papa bear as he sits on a padded chair.
The effect rocks me, makes me want to turn and run, makes me want to attack him, but I smile back and stumble over to him.
“Hello, Daddy.” His cheek is creased, and as I lean in, all I want to do is open my mouth, bare my teeth, and sink them into him, down to the bone, biting, ripping, spitting his flesh in his face.
I’m not violent. Thoughts like this don’t ever come to me, thoughts where the fantasy is something I could and would do. Except now. I want to do this with a desperation that has dark and poisoned claws.
I’d never leave this room alive.
I press my lips to his cheek, pretending it’s a vicious, scarring bite.
“Good little girl, Thorne,” he murmurs. “Now, turn.” I do. “Vitale, this is my little girl, Thorne.”
“She’s prettier than her picture, Derek,” the man says.
Horror spreads. This Vitale is fat, old, balding, ugly, cruel. It’s there in his lascivious look. Sitting across from my father in a leather chair, he waves a beringed hand at me. “Come here, child.” He spread his thighs, the material of his suit shining in the light as he pats his knee. “Sit.”
For a second, I don’t move, and then I force myself, the horror turning into a dull numbness. The moment I sit, his hot, fetid breath, stained with the peat of Scotch, hits me. Vitale slides a hand down my back and the other goes to my knee, nudging them apart.
“So, she’s not a virgin?”
“Well, it’s the modern age,” my father begins. “Close enough.”
The hand slides up my thigh, forcing my legs further apart as this horrible man pinches at my flesh. I want to run, to fight, maim. Kill.
All I can do is sit.
There are four big men in this room, and that doesn’t include the creep who’s lap I’m on. I do something, and things get be worse. So much worse.
Nikolai taught me that.
At least with him, punishment had an edge of erotic pleasure. This punishment will be pure pain.
I force myself to be doll like, even as his hand goes to the juncture of my thighs, sliding over the dry folds of my pussy and up.
“Smooth. Soft. Baby bare,” Vitale grunts. “Lovely. I’m checking, though. Some of these pretty packages are loose as fuck, and I want tight.” I whimper.
“She likes it,” he says. “Don’t you, honey baby?” I can’t look at him.
“She’s shy,” my father mutters, a note of steel in his tone.
The man starts to poke at my outer lips, seeking entry into me. I’m so dry that my body refuses to comply, refuses to open the way it did with Nikolai.
And…oh, God…he’s going to…he’s going to… I can’t help it. I squeeze my eyes shut and try and pretend it’s Nikolai, but this isn’t Nikolai, this isn’t-
“Stop, Vitale.” The words halt that poking, rough hand. They’re deadly, full of menace.
“She’s going to be mine. You’ve sold her to me for a nice piece of my wealth. I’m going to test the wares.”
“Not in front of me, you’re not.” Derek doesn’t even bother hiding the threat and the disgust. “I’m her fucking father. You had a feel, that’s enough. Come here, little girl.”
I almost fall from the creep’s lap as I move. He has my thigh, and he digs in deep for a moment before he releases me. My father pats at the armrest next to him and I nod, perching on the edge, keeping my gaze downcast as I try and regulate the rapid state of my breathing.
“Now, I have a contract. Read it.” He nods to one of the big men, who steps forward with a leatherbound ledger and hands it to the fat, ugly Vitale. I wish the fog of drugs were back and dragging me elsewhere, I wish-
No. I don’t. Being out of it won’t help me. It’s better to try and cling to clarity, work out what’s going on. If any chance to run comes up, I’m taking it. Running from this fortress isn’t an option. I’m under lock and key more than even at Nikolai’s, but if I’m to be…married, then…
Vitale sighs. “This is more than we agreed on.”
“She’s worth it, don’t you think?”
The man’s eyes narrow. “I wasn’t allowed to taste her.”
“When you do, it will be more delicious because she’ll be yours, and no one, not even me, will be able to interfere with your plans for her.”
Vitale practically drools as he looks at me. “Spread your legs and lift your dress, honey baby.”
“Do it, little girl,” my father says.
Heat burns my body as my fingers clench down on my skirt, but I do it.
All those eyes-apart from my father’s and Rafe’s-watch.
Vitale licks his lips and leans forward. “So young. Tight. She looks completely untouched. It’s a pretty, pretty pussy.”
“Put your dress down, whore,” my father breathes. “Now.” Shaking, I do.
“Are you sure she’s not a virgin?”
“You can have fun finding out.” My father’s throne-like armchair in the over decorated, over manly room, creaks. Dark woods. Leather. Animal heads on the walls. Antique guns. It’s awful, just like him.
Vitale grins. “I can’t wait, Derek. This will be a good alliance. So beautiful.” The man clicks fat, ringed fingers and another man appears with a gold pen. He signs the document with a flourish.
“Thorne,” my father murmurs, “tell him you’ll be good to him.”
I lick my lips, unable to look up. Not out of fear, but because I’m scared the hate and rage will burn in my eyes. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be good, Mr. Vitale.”
“Oh, honey baby, you’ll be calling me Daddy, too.” He pauses. “Are you sure I can’t take her for a test run?”
“No.” My father rises, and the chair Vitale sits on creaks and groans. As they talk, I tune them out. It’s something about territory and business, and… my limits for the day have been stretched.
When the door shuts, my father is there, in front of me. He grabs me by the face and jerks me up to my feet. The hate and disgust shimmer in his eyes as he makes me look at him.
“You really are a disgusting little cunt of a whore. Letting him touch you. Letting him and all the men look at your exposed pussy in front of your father. Pathetic. You’re lucky he wants you. I say lucky…” He laughs harshly.
I make myself do it. Go compliant. Say the word. “Daddy?”
He releases me, pushing me back, and I tumble to the floor, narrowly missing the corner of the side table. “Congratulations, Thorne. You’re engaged. You’re finally doing something worthwhile with your life.”
I can’t move as he strides to the door. “Garcia? Take her back to her room. She disgusts me.”
When he’s gone, Rafe picks me up to my feet. “Let’s go, Ms.
Finnegan.”
I have no choice but to do as I’m told.