Mortal Siege

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  I stopped fighting him during what he calls sex, but I’m not a participant.

  He wants a sex kitten, somehow thinks he deserves that from me.

  I give him my body. That’s it.

  Which he’s started to make me pay for. Just yesterday, he raped me again, invading yet another virgin hole on my body with his fingers.

  Grunting breaths in my ear.

  Piercing, dry pain with every shove inside me.

  His face is mere centimeters from my own, teeth imbedded in my jaw.

  Pain.

  That’s all there ever is with him.

  Unending agony.

  “Moan for me.” His demand is harsh onto my abused skin. As harsh as the next shove he gives inside me.

  My skin tears. It’s the first of many to come. He breaks me every single time.

  And just like every single time, I refuse to acknowledge the injury.

  Refuse to react to his commands.

  My hair is pulled, strands ripping from my head.

  His teeth sink in deeper.

  Harder.

  It doesn’t matter. He can mark me all he wants. No one aside from my mother and her medical team will see it.

  No one sees his pretty little prisoner kept locked at the top of this skyscraper, hidden in his technological cave.

  “Fucking moan for me, Lexi. Before I make you scream.” Another shove. Another tear. My body is nothing but a limp rag doll in his brutal hold.

  My eyes? Deadened. Locked straight ahead.

  I haven’t fought him in years. Not since that first rape. I let him have it whenever he wants now.

  But this is the only way. He wants my body? He bought it. He owns it. What he doesn’t own is me, and that’s why he has no choice but to fuck the numb, unreactive woman in his grasp.

  Until he snaps.

  Which he does every time, as well.

  Oh, I know he’ll wrench those screams out of me one way or the other. History has already proven that as a fact.

  He’ll have to. I won’t give in any other way.

  Teeth sink into my neck next. The throbbing, fiery length hammering between my legs presses deep.

  Then, out of nowhere, two fingers are shoved inside a place no one’s been before, stretching me to the point that I feel a brand new, unbearable tearing of skin—

  I’m screaming, struggling.

  Crying.

  In the background, he throws his head back with a satisfied groan, those light brown eyes narrowing with bliss.

  And he fucks me harder.

  In my pussy.

  In my ass.

  Breaking me.

  Wrecking me.

  When he comes, his screams are even louder than mine. A triumphant savage taking what he owns by force.

  Dread spreads like cold tendrils over my body. I’m going to have to give him that willingly soon. If I don’t, he’ll just take it by force.

  Fear is a dark, palpitating presence in my nervous system, shredding up my spine.

  I don’t want anal. Especially not with him.

  Yet, like everything else when it comes to my body, he won’t give me the choice. I know he won’t.

  So I maintain my fake show of obedience, although it costs me a bit more of my soul every day, hoping one day the leash will loosen completely and I’ll be able to get mom and me out. Where are we going to go? Straight to the authorities, I’ve decided. My scraps of proof might still be at a minimum, yet someone’s has to be able to help us.

  Anyone.

  That face—his face—invades my mind’s eyes again.

  It always does.

  Remnants of a stupid girl, wishing for what could never be. A naive heart that refuses to grow up and understand that a Drevlow could never be a savior.

  All they’ve ever been good for is destruction.

  Sure, I still can’t bring myself to fully believe that Andrew would’ve ever hurt me to this extent, but what’s the purpose of running to him? Yes, he and Stephen loathe each other now. That’s become clear. And Andrew might just make my abuser pay dearly on my behalf.

  What happens after, though? Once I’m back in his orbit, back in his power?

  Stephen’s abuse is both physical and psychological.

  The Drevlows deal in straight mental torture.

  Is that truly my only options in life? Trade one victimizer for another.

  No. Running into the wrong arms has ruined me time and time again. The next time I run, I’ll be heading to the real good guys. People out there that I know would love to take a criminal like Stephen down.

  Because that’s what he is. All the money, pedigree, and affluence in the world could never erase that.

  So here I sit, day after day, my mother’s keeper and nurse at times. Stephen’s lead programmer hidden away from the world. His abused sex doll to take whenever he pleases.

  Until, finally, one morning, I get one of the messages from him I’ve been waiting eons to receive.

  Stephen: We’re moving your mother to our medical wing. Guess it’s time I help you with her since you’ve been such a good girl, baby.

  chapter 60

  p eople say Apple goes above and beyond for their tech revealments during their WWDCs.

  That’s because the majority of the public never tuned into the other side of the tech realm.

  Not until now, that is.

  The publicity Menahan managed to bring us with his assassination stunt turned the eyes of an entire world our way.

  Kaylee’s death and the scandal that lead to it? Well, that didn’t necessarily bring anything our way, not specifically, but she was the heir to yet another giant corporation. Suddenly, everyone’s curious about the before-now ignored corp titans working behind the scenes to rule the world.

  Even Menahan has been reaping some of the benefits.

  Not like us, though. Which is why I didn’t want him on the guest list.

  We’re being watched. Local police think we’re blind to it. Thanks to Shell, we know everything there is to know.

  Andrew and I have played it off that we have no clue who could be after us. In order to keep up appearances, Menahan wasn’t the only one that was barred. Anyone that could be construed as competition will be denied entrance if they try to attend.

  The crowd outside Drevlow Systems is mayhem. Normally, Drew would be walking the navy blue carpet in front of the press corps leading in, but they’ve been informed that due to the shootout during the conference, that won’t be possible.

  Richard volunteered to walk the carpet with Evelyn on his arm. Andrew and he fought about it, but in the end his uncle got the final say.

  The ground floor is abuzz with energy when we step off the elevator. The entire space has been amplified with decorations. On its own, it’s already a glass and steel wonderland, yet another ode to Ronald Drevlow’s ego that has come to encompass what it means to bear his last name.

  Servers in uniform rush around, offering the guests drinks and Hors d’oeuvres. Andrew and I decided to forgo any time of background live music. The goal? The excited chatter currently bouncing off the walls.

  Everyone here is lit up with excitement to see what these goggles can do.

  Even after all the projects I’ve worked on, the final field test yesterday left me in awe.

  These people don’t know it yet, but the goggles won’t be projecting virtual reality from within, as most of the available ones do.

  They’ll be projecting them out, bringing VR into the real world.

  Voices call out, people rushing to us.

  Everyone wanting a piece of my man.

  Most of them curious about me, the woman he’s continuously flaunted before the world for weeks now. His right-hand, the new lead developer that’s helped him accomplish this feat in record time.

  His lover, after years of his being single in the public eye.

  And in private, as well.

  “Andrew!”

  “Ms. Berkman!”


  “Everyone, please.” Smiling in that boyish, charming way, Drew holds up a hand and continues leading me towards the amphitheater situated to the left of the ground floor. “We’re minutes away from the reveal. Any questions can be answered after.”

  And just like that, like the thunderbolt of pure purpose he is, Drew leads me through the doors, straight into the massive space meant to hold two-thousand people.

  My last glimpse of the ground floor leaves me with a visual of Shell, dressed as any other guest, mingling among the crowd.

  A reminder of what today is really about.

  What might happen.

  My heart thumps loudly, adrenaline spiking.

  We make our way around the back of the state and straight onto it as people begin trickling in after us. Maybe ten minutes later, the lights dim, the screen dominating the back of the stage fizzling to live with the Drevlow Systems logo—the massive D within the thin, white square, the word Systems cutting through it.

  My hearing vanishes as the lights blaze back on in a dazzling display. Drew stands at the middle of the stage. I’m just back here for support and to keep a visual on things. Feet from me, a form moves in the shadows. Don’t know how, but I sense it’s Shell, finding his own hidden vantage point to look out.

  He’s not the only one. Mateo and his team are in the audience. A total of maybe thirty of Shell’s men are as well.

  Within the building? Nearly two-million nanobots, linked to software feeding information to our phones and smartwatches.

  The stakes have never been higher.

  My gut has never been more alarmed.

  There’s no way Menahan is letting this go off without a hitch. No way. I was his prisoner for too long. Learned how his twisted mind works the hard way.

  Filled with pure alarm, I miss the entirety of Drew’s opening. I can’t stop seeing Menahan throughout the audience, his inhuman light brown eyes—sometimes glittering with goodness and humanity, other times colder and more lifeless than the attic itself—glittering back at me.

  Finn walks up to center stage, the goggles already in place. He volunteered for this against Andrew’s will, refusing to allow anyone else to risk it after what happened to Ms. Rhines.

  My breaths are racing, loud enough to echo back here.

  “Steady,” comes from the darkness; Shell reminding me to keep it together.

  As Finn faces the audience and Andrew warns them all to brace themselves, my blood rushes in my ears. A single push of the button on the side and the entire world around them, at least a fifty-foot before them, changes in the blink of an eye.

  The one sound that pierces through is the sharp gasp of everyone in the audience as they realize what they’re seeing:

  Virtual reality, an entire new landscape, dominating their eyesight.

  It’s a projection of the street outside, the people and the cars milling about. So perfect, so detailed, so solid, that the real world behind it is lost.

  Silence reigns, a stunned quiet that somehow reverberates through the cavernous space.

  Reaching up, Finn turns off the goggles, killing the projection.

  The silence continues, the eyes of almost everyone in the audience bulging out of their heads.

  Then . . .

  As one, they’re on their feet, the applause and screams thundering throughout, to the point where the ground shakes with it.

  It’s enough to shake me out of my panic, my chest racing with what this means.

  What this will do for Drew.

  Immortality.

  Or as close to it as any human can ever be. Forever remembered in the annals of history for ushering in this age.

  And they don’t even know about the nanotech yet.

  A tremulous smile stretches across my lips, happiness blossoming for him—

  Until a wall of sheer, blue fire tears across the ceilings over our heads.

  chapter 61

  “l

  EXI! LEXI!”

  Fire.

  Those wailing screams again.

  Smoke.

  Heat. So much heat.

  “LEXI! BABY!”

  Can’t see anything. My eyes are burning.

  Yet I stumble through the destruction, hands outstretched, my soul yanking me in search of him.

  “LEXI!”

  “DREW!” I’ve just finished shouting out his name when my hands bump against someone.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Tell me that’s you.” His voice is shot to shit, almost unrecognizable.

  And just the sound of it makes me break down into tears. “Drew. Oh God, Drew.” I’m lifted and thrown over his shoulder before I can say anything else.

  “FINN!” he screams above the roar.

  “Behind you! Go! Go!”

  “Over here!” another voice shouts, one I suspect is Shell.

  Alive. Most of us are still alive.

  But how many people are dead? How many more will die before the fire can be put out?

  Are Evelyn and Richard okay?

  Drew runs through the smoggy darkness in the direction of Shell’s voice. Within seconds we’re out in a small hallway, away from what must be a stampede of people racing to get out through the front. His feet slam into the floor with the force of his strides, followed by that of two other men.

  Still can’t see, but I pray it’s really Shell and Finn.

  My stomach slams into Drew’s shoulder repeatedly, the breath getting knocked out of me. We slam through a doorway, into another part of the ground floor—

  Gunfire.

  Even while Drew shouts a curse, rushing to duck, to lower me off his shoulder so he can protect me with his body, it registers how familiar I’ve become with that sound.

  My back impacts a wall as he covers me . . .

  Bullets slam into a glass divider next to us. In a near slow motion display, it shatters outward, dangerously large pieces flying towards us like projectiles.

  One slices along my arm, parting the skin too quickly for me to even feel.

  “Finn! Engage the fucking nanobots!” Drew tugs me into him, his hand squeezing around the wound, but the flow of blood is too much for him to contain.

  Out here, my vision is beginning to clear, and I see the moment that Shell throws a gun at Andrew. Ripping a chunk of his shirt off, he runs to me and throws yet another weapon at Finn, who pauses in his typing on his phone to catch it. “Move. Cover me. I’ll make her a tourniquet.”

  The life has left Drew’s eyes, his rage mutating him—the same deadened look I’ve seen too many times in Stephen’s stare.

  A psychotic monster with his fury fully unleashed.

  “Fucking protect her,” he hisses at Shell, turning his back on me and making sure to remain in front of me and the deteriorating world around us. Aiming the gun out into the chaos, I see him trying to pinpoint where the gun men are.

  Finn finishes what he was doing on his phone and takes the spot next to him.

  Shell tugs my arm to him, wrapping that scrap of fabric around the gushing wound and tightening with no mercy.

  I don’t feel the pain.

  I don’t feel anything . . . except the same animalistic need for blood that I just saw in my man’s stare.

  I’ve had enough of Stephen.

  Have had enough of his disregard for human life.

  His obsession to own me.

  His obsession to kill my man.

  And anyone here today to help him is going to learn that one way or another.

  “Tell me you have another gun on you,” I tell Shell, my gaze locked on the back of Andrew’s head.

  He must spot one of the gunmen because he lets out a round of shots aimed towards his left.

  “Only one for me.” The agent brings it out and suddenly there’s three men in front of me, a human, weaponized shield, and it’s the last thing I want.

  Being the only one without a means to fight after what just happened fuels the destructive misery in my soul.

  The three men shoo
t at people I can’t see past their bulk.

  Somewhere from the right, a voice I recognize as Mateo’s screams out, “More are coming!”

  From within my clutch, my phone beeps with a special notification I set up just in case.

  A sound that freezes me, makes me forget everything else happening.

  Panting, trapped in my enraged disbelief, I stare at Andrew’s back.

  There’s no way . . . no way . . .

  Yet, what more could I ask for right now than that creature himself making an appearance, putting himself in the path of my vengeance?

  He’ll never stop until Drew is dead. Never.

  And for that, I’ll ruin him, to the point where every day he’ll regret ever being born.

  Rushing to get my phone out, I bring out the app linked to the nanobots—

  His face—Stephen’s face—stares back at me from one of the hallways within this very fucking building.

  “Lexi?” Forever attuned to me, Drew’s stopped shooting to stare at me over his shoulder, those dilated, gold eyes hyper focused on me.

  “He’s here,” I wheeze out, a cyclone of pure energy pounding through my limbs. “He’s fucking here.” And he won’t stop until he kills you. He paid all these men to kill you.

  After everything he’s already done to me.

  After everything he did to my mother.

  After helping keep me away from Drew, knowing that my absence was destroying him.

  “Lexi, what—”

  “I’m going to kill him, Drew. I’m going to fucking kill him.” Pushing off the wall in a burst of impulse, I run straight to one of the doors leading to a stairwell.

  More gunfire, a rapid burst.

  There’s no way Stephen paid them to kill me, too.

  Which means only one thing: Drew’s right behind me.

  Regardless, my eyes are fixated on the screen in my hands, on the small dot pinpointing the location of that bastard.

  One floor above our fucking heads, standing still in the middle of a hallway, as if awaiting our arrival.

  As if calling us to him.

  “Lexi!” Drew calls behind me, his steps echoing mine up the stairs.

  “Get that fucking gun ready, Drew! We’re ending him!” I arrive on the second floor, slamming through the stairwell door—