The glass smashes to the ground, shattering into tiny shards as he storms toward me, grabbing my chin and stretching my neck up painfully. “You seem to have forgotten your place, daughter, and it’s time I reminded you.” He fists a hand in my sweater, yanking me to my feet. His eyes roam over me in disgust. “You look like a common peasant.”
“Mr. Hearst.” Charlie stands.
“Be very careful with the words you say next, Charles,” the bastard warns.
I daren’t look at Charlie, so I can’t tell what expression is on his face when he says, “She’s my fiancée. I’ll be the one to discipline her.”
What the actual fuck? I thought he’d try to stop him, but no, he’s going along with it. A red layer coats my eyes, and anger burns the back of my throat, but I say nothing, show nothing, keeping a neutral expression on my face even though I want to murder both men.
Charlie’s statement calms him down, somewhat. “Trouble?” he asks, momentarily distracted by Charlie’s swollen nose.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he coolly replies.
Father shoves me at my fiancé, straightening his shirt and tie, before a familiar sneer creeps across his ugly mouth. Panic bubbles up my throat. “Let’s see if I’ve made the right choice.” He levels Charles with a menacing look.
I work hard to keep my face neutral because I refuse to show any fear in front of him. Instead, I cling to my hatred, using it to bolster my determination to take him down, no matter the cost.
He tore my babies from my body without permission. Inserted these hideous breast implants knowing I didn’t want them. And now he’s blackmailing me into another arranged marriage.
He doesn’t get to keep doing this shit to me.
He will pay.
I repeat that mantra over and over in my mind, using it to anesthetize me from what’s about to happen.
“Twenty slaps on her bare ass. Right here. Right now.”
I seethe underneath my skin as Charlie turns me in his arms and demands, “Jeans off now.” His face is a mask of cold indifference, and I can’t tell if it’s an act or not.
Embracing my anger and my hatred, I remove my jeans, carefully setting them aside and standing with my chin up, daring him to do his worst. Charlie sits back down on the couch, patting his lap.
“Panties off,” my father instructs, and I know he gets off on this sick shit.
I hook my thumbs in the top of my panties, ready to remove them, when Charlie grabs my hips, pulling me across his lap, facedown. When I’m stretched out, with my face pressed into the arm of the couch and my ass slightly tilted, he removes my panties, pushing them down my legs to my ankles.
An involuntary cry rips from my mouth as stinging pain lances across my ass with the first slap. I bite down hard on my lip as Charlie wastes no time doling out my punishment, slapping my ass in quick succession. I want to believe he’s doing this fast, to get it over and done with, rather than he’s doing this deliberately, because it hurts more when there’s no time to recover in between, but honestly, the jury is out.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I ignore the pain and the humiliation, focusing on my anger and my rage and cementing my determination to bring him down.
“Nice job,” the bastard says. “I’m partial to that shade of red on my women.”
I swallow my disgust, relieved when I feel Charlie drawing my panties back up my legs.
“No.” Charlie stops for a second at my father’s command. “Let her stand and put them back on herself.”
My lip trembles at his undisguised desire to see my naked pussy, and intense fear overtakes me.
My father has never looked at me in a sexual way or put a hand on me in that regard, but I’ve always known he’s capable of it. I don’t know what goes on in his sex dungeon, but I doubt it’s legal or in any way pleasurable for the women.
“No.” Charlie’s voice is resolute as he defies my father, pulling my panties back up into place. “No one gets to see her pussy but me.” My stomach sours, and I cringe as I brush against the bulge in his pants. Knowing doing that to me turned him on doesn’t sit well with me.
What angle is Charlie playing, and am I the ultimate prize, or is he playing for bigger stakes?
My father chuckles, clearly amused, which is a shock. Any time Drew stands his ground, he’s met with vicious fists.
Charlie grips my hips and places me on my feet. Snatching my jeans, he hands them to me while maintaining eye contact with my father as he rises.
“How do you expect to achieve that after you’re married with your newly elevated status within the order?” the bastard asks.
I lean a hand on the couch to keep my balance as I shimmy my jeans up my legs, feigning indifference when I’m avidly listening to their conversation.
“I’m not sharing her.” Charlie stubbornly crosses his arms.
“I probably shouldn’t mention I’ve had my hands all over her tits.” My father smirks, baiting Charlie, while I struggle to hold on to my stomach contents.
“That better be a joke,” I hiss.
A cruel glint glimmers in his eye, and his lips curl up at the corners. “It’s important after breast augmentation to massage the tits daily so they don’t turn hard or settle in the wrong position. You were unconscious during the recovery period, so Wyatt and I took care of it for you.” He smirks, lowering his gaze to my chest. “You’re welcome.”
I feel violated all over again.
I’ve no clue what Charlie did with Wyatt, but in this moment, I hope he put a bullet through his sleazy skull. A retaliation is resting on my tongue when Charlie pulls me into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “The only man touching her from now on is me.”
A belly laugh rumbles from my father. “You rarely have an issue sharing women.” He cocks a brow, and that sick feeling is back in my tummy. I purposely avoid looking at Charlie because Father wants to rattle me, and I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Whores are different,” Charlie deadpans, and I’m at risk of losing what little food is in my stomach. “She’ll be my wife, and I intend to respect her.”
The bastard slaps him on the shoulder. “Such noble, misguided goals.”
I risk a sneaky glance at Charlie. He looks composed, but the vein throbbing in his neck says otherwise. He’s primed to explode, which is interesting. He isn’t enjoying this, which means it’s all part of the act. “My father avoids it with my mother.”
My father’s amused grin disappears. “And that’s one reason he’ll never advance, but you, my boy.” He clamps down hard on his shoulder. “You’re destined for greater things. We both know it.”
“I won’t share her,” Charlie repeats, and I’m surprised he’s challenging my father and still breathing.
The bastard’s stare is calculating as he assesses Charlie. “This conversation is a little premature, don’t you think? You’re not even married yet. You might change your mind.” He leers at me, and nausea travels up my throat. Charlie tucks me possessively under his arm, and I shiver uncontrollably as potent fear breaks free. Father glances at his Rolex. “I made plans, so let’s conclude our business.”
Charlie resettles me on the couch beside him, draping his arm across my shoulder and keeping me close. I chew on the inside of my mouth to avoid wincing as my sore ass hits the hard leather. Summoning restraint from some deep hidden place, I dig my nails into my sides to avoid lunging at Charlie before I earn further punishment.
“You will tell no one you were pregnant,” my father says, piercing me with a warning look. “And, as far as anyone knows, you are still a virgin and you will remain a virgin until your wedding night.”
I want to know why it’s so important, but there’s no point asking a question I’ll get no response to.
“How do you expect to keep that hidden when there were others privy to the discussion the night of the engagement party,” I say.
“That is being dealt with. All you need to concern yourself wit
h is presenting as the dutiful, virgin bride to be.”
“I’ll do it,” I say. “On one condition.” I straighten my spine. “You will not touch, maim, or kill Kaiden Anderson, any of his brothers, or any of the people on that list, either by your own hand or via a paid hit.”
My father smirks. “It’s amusing you think you have any negotiating power.”
“It’s amusing how you disregard me so flippantly.” I lean forward. “If anything happens to me or Kai, or anyone else I love, a statement will be sent to every reporter and law enforcement office in the US confirming everything you’ve done to me and others.”
His smirk widens. “I own most of those people. I can make it go away like that.” He clicks his fingers.
“You don’t own everyone, and it will be enough to cast suspicion.”
“You think the delusional musings of a teenage girl will garner any real interest?”
“I think the people you’re trying to fool would sit up and take notice.” I’m bluffing, because I have set none of this up yet although I plan to. While I don’t know if my instincts are correct, Drew claims this is bigger than Manning Motors, and I know this is connected to Parkhurst, and considering the bastard is so focused on appearances, there has got to be someone he is trying to impress or deceive. “And you reported me as a missing person, splashing my face all over the news, in case you’d forgotten.”
“That’s a non-issue. We have informed the media of my delight at your return,” he deadpans.
“You brought a spotlight on my head, Father. It’s enough for the media to pay attention if I come forth with a statement.”
The door opens, and Mrs. Banks pops her head in. “Your guest has arrived, sir.”
“Bring her to me,” he says without looking up at our housekeeper.
“She will test your patience at every turn,” he says, looking at Charlie. “Are you sure you can handle her?”
“I’m right here,” I protest.
“Shut your face, Abigail.” His fists clench at his sides, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. I add it to my mental notepad to analyze later.
I open my mouth to offer some snarky retort, but Charlie pinches my arm in warning, and I clamp my mouth shut again. “She will submit, and I will keep her under control.”
“See that you do.” He stands, and we climb to our feet.
“I give you my word that nothing will happen to that delinquent,” he agrees, eyeballing me. “But if you cross me, all deals are off, and he’s the first one I’ll go after. Do you understand?
“I understand.”
“Good.”
The door opens again, and a tall, skinny blonde with big lips and even bigger tits enters the room. She’s wearing a minuscule white minidress and sky-high stilettos. Diamonds drip from her neck and slender arms. “Darling.” She drapes herself around my father, and I’m not fast enough to disguise the look of disgust from my face. She looks like she’s only a few years older than me, and it’s just so wrong.
Grabbing her by the wrists, he pulls her around in front of him, licking his lips as he eye-fucks her. “Strip and get on your knees.”
He ignores her as she lifts the hem of her dress without argument, focusing on me. “You will stay the night here. Your brother has missed you.”
He’s not asking. But I want to see Drew anyway, so I nod.
“And I expect you both here for dinner every Sunday.”
“We’ll be here,” Charlie says, averting his eyes as the woman pulls her bra off, standing before us in only her panties and high heels.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” I mock.
“She’s no one,” he says, opening the buckle on his belt, his lips twitching as my mouth pulls into a grimace. “Stay if you want to watch,” he adds, challenging me with a knowing look. His loud laughter follows me as I race out the door with Charlie hot on my heels.
Once the door is closed, I spin around, shoving Charlie in the chest. “You can leave.” I stab him with a venomous look, my ass still stinging from his hand.
“I had no choice.”
“There are always choices,” I say, and I’m reminded of Sawyer saying the same thing to me one time. “And you had no issue standing up to him on the sharing thing.” A shiver works its way through me at the thought of all that entails.
“I know how to handle your father.”
“Because you understand how his mind works?” I query, wondering if Charlie shares similar psychopathic traits, because he’s a bit all over the place, and I can’t get an accurate reading on him or his agenda.
His eyes drift upward, toward the spot where one of the hidden cameras is mounted to the wall. “Not here. Let’s talk in your bedroom.”
He moves to take my hand, and I shove my elbow into his ribcage. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
He grabs my elbow, dragging me along the hallway. Pressing his mouth to my ear, he whispers, “We need to perform for the cameras, or do you want your boyfriend to be killed?”
That sobers me up, and I stop fighting, letting him hold my hand, but the second we’re behind closed doors in my room, I push him away. “Start talking.”
“I’m sorry that had to happen, but it won’t be the last unpleasant thing I’m forced to do if you continue to berate him.” He steps toward me.
I hold up a palm. “Don’t come any closer unless you want a black eye. I am fucking pissed.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Do not joke with me either.”
“Jeez, tough crowd.”
“Charlie,” I growl, grabbing fistfuls of my long hair in frustration.
He walks to my bed and sits down, patting the space beside him. “Please, sit.”
“Did you not hear what I just said?”
“I’ll take my chances.” He pats the bed again.
I sit my butt down as far away from him as possible, and his face drops. “I’m on your side, Abby. And I’m doing everything I can to help you. Why the hell else would I broker a deal with your father to save Kai’s life if it wasn’t about helping you? It’s not as if I like the asshole. He’s stolen you out from under me before I had a chance to show you how good we could be.”
“Don’t do that.” I can’t handle emotional blackmail right now.
He scoots a little closer. “It’s the truth.” His hands twitch at his sides and I can tell he wants to touch me, but he’s holding back. “I love you, and I want to spend my life with you, but if he’s your choice, I will let you go.”
I examine his face for evidence of the truth. “I thought you wanted to marry me and give me a good life.”
“That is still on the table. And we can do that in Rydeville or far away from here. We can get married and disappear, if that’s what you want.”
“You’d leave your family to run away with me?” Skepticism laces through my words.
“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “It’s what I was planning to do the night of the shootout.”
“You said Oscar was meant to take me to Xavier’s warehouse that night and we would flee to Europe, but how did you know to plan that in advance?”
“I knew it wouldn’t take you long to figure it out.” He runs his hand through his black hair as worry lines form on his brow.
“If you want me to trust you, Charlie, you need to be honest with me.”
“Telling you this places you in greater danger, but I don’t see there’s any way of sheltering you from it now.” He moves closer until there’s only a small gap between us. His emerald green eyes penetrate mine. “Most everything that’s going on is connected to changes happening within the order, and at Parkhurst.”
“What is the order?”
“It’s the hierarchy within the US elite structure. Drew can fill you in on it, but changes are coming, and my father wants out before it happens. A couple years ago, a faction within the elite contacted him, concerned about your father’s agenda and the level of support he was garnering. They asked
for his help, and in exchange, they promised to grant him freedom. To let him leave the elite. Leave Rydeville. And put it all behind him.”
“Why does your father want that?”
“Because he’s never wanted any part of it. He inherited it. It was his legacy, but it’s never been what he’s wanted for his family. He’s gone to extreme lengths to shield Mom from the worst excesses of the order, and, occasionally, he’s flouted the archaic rules, even though it was risky.”
He crosses his ankles. “When your father and Christian Montgomery orchestrated Atticus Anderson’s demise, Dad realized he was stuck. That there was no way out, and he tried to toe the line. But your father is power hungry, and the more he gains, the worse he becomes. When the offer came from enemy quarters, it didn’t take him long to decide to help them.”
A light bulb goes off in my head, and my eyes pop wide. “Holy shit. Your father’s been working with Atticus Anderson, hasn’t he?”
Charlie nods.
“And that means—”
“That I’ve been working with the new elite from the beginning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
That must’ve been what Kai was about to tell me back at the hotel. I dig my nails into the comforter. “You’re all motherfucking lying bastards.” Every muscle in my body tenses. “Was Drew in on it too?”
“No. Drew knew nothing until they took you to Parkhurst, and then I confided in him. It’s one reason he’s pissed with me. Why I’m on the outside now.”
“You knew there would be a face-off that night at the party.”
“I did, and I knew it would get messy, so I’d pulled Oscar aside earlier that day and explained. He agreed to stash his car near the old rear entrance and to get you to safety until I could come for you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t tell you without admitting the full truth, and it’s always been safer if you didn’t know.”
And here we go with the broken record again. “I swear the next person who says that is gonna get a bullet in the brain.” I’m seething as I glare at him. “And how the fuck was it safer keeping me in the dark?” I hiss, standing and pacing. “You enabled them to bully and humiliate me!” I lunge at him, and a loud crack echoes around the room as my palm impacts his cheek. “You facilitated everything by working with them behind my back.”
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