They were sisters, having the same father but different mothers. Clare’s mother was deceased, dying shortly after childbirth. Summer’s mother was a paid maid he knew very well. Two totally different mothers from different places in life.
Their father was Chase’s arch enemy. Chase would be bringing that devil down if it was the last thing he did. How many more children did that man have that ended up with the same fate as these two girls? That man had been after Chase for years, but thankfully his family and security protecting him, and always would.
"Good morning," he yawned towards the two girls, surprised that they were both up so early. But he wasn't going to complain. It had been too long since he had a home cooked meal, and it smelled amazing. Mouthwatering.
"Morning," Clare mumbled, glancing his way. He was already dressed in dark jeans and a tight fitting shirt, his dark hair wild from sleep. She couldn't help but admire that he was much better looking than the other men she had been with before. Although her heart would always only belong to one person. A person she'd never likely be able to see again.
Summer stiffened instantly at the sound of his voice, fearing what he would do. She kept her eyes down away from him as she readied a coffee cup for him and set out plates on the table along with silverware. She wasn't sure if they would be allowed to eat, but he had said they were to be treated well here. She assumed that meant that Clare and herself would be able to eat at mealtimes also.
God, did she hope so. Her frame was nothing but skin and bones, and she was starving to death. Summer knew she couldn’t go much longer without food.
So far, he had kept his word, keeping his hands to himself. He wanted to pull each girl into a hug, taking all their fears and worries away but knew that wouldn't be possible anytime soon. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep anything down, as her stomach was filled with nerves. She was frightened of the possibilities of what she would have to do here.
"When you are done cooking, join me," Chase said gently, but in a commanding voice. They could eat with him, and maybe they could somehow answer some of the millions of questions that kept floating through his head all night long.
It wasn't long before the food was cooked and set on the table. Summer sat the tall mug of black coffee in front of Chase before taking her own seat. She may enjoy the smell of coffee, but wasn't a fan of the flavor. Even with creamer.
It wasn't often she had it, but she had tried it once or twice, just needing something to make it through the day after so many sleepless nights working for whoever her handler was at the time.
"Thank you, ladies," Chase said before he began to dig in. He hummed, enjoying the cooked meal. He knew that there was nothing in his house that wasn't locked up tight for either of them to get to taint his food. The two girls slowly ate their own food as they sat next to each other. Clare kept shooting concerned glances at Summer, since she sat stiffly, not making eye contact with anyone. It was a little unnerving.
"Did you both sleep well?" Chase asked before taking a sip of his coffee.
"As well as we could, sir," Clare answered quietly.
That is what he expected. He was sure being in a place that either of them were not used to would cause some lack of sleep. At least until they got used to him.
"Coffee is perfect, thank you, Summer." It was so hard to hear her name from the man’s lips, as no one ever really called her by her given name. She merely nodded her head once in reply. She had a lot of practice on making the best brew.
"Before we start our day, I do have a few questions for you both, and if you can answer the best that you can, it would be helpful. I'm trying to piece together a few things," Chase began now that he was more awake. His voice still scratchy, along with his day's growth that covered his jaw line. He folded his hands on the table top as he waited for both girls to be looking at him.
"Now, I understand that it's your birthday, Summer," he went on, waiting for her to nod. She quickly looked up at him, meeting his clear green eyes. She forced herself to look away just as quickly. His look unnerved her more than anyone else's had before; she wasn't sure why. His look was opened, and dare she even think it, caring. His eyes just drew her in. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen that color of green before, either.
Yes, it may be her birthday, but what did it matter? She was still here, still without loving parents. With her short glance at Chase, he saw that she truly felt she had nothing to live for. There was no fight left in her. Her will to live had been beaten out of her years ago. He was tempted to not go through with today's plans, but it was too late to back out now. Valerie would be here soon with clothes for both of them.
"In this house, it will be different than the other places you have both been in. You will get some freedoms here, and only when I know you both can be trusted with such. Clare, you are seventeen, correct?" he went on after a moment.
"Yes, sir," she said, her voice soft, almost floating on the non-existent breeze. Why did it matter?
"How much schooling have you had?" he then asked, pushing his plate away just a few inches. He kept his eyes on her, waiting for her answer.
"I was in school until last year," she answered, feeling her cheeks heat. She wasn't sure how to act. Why did she feel so strange under his watchful look?
"I know about you running away, and how you got where you are today, for the most part. But you are still a minor, and you are to continue your education online, as long as you don't create any social media accounts," he said, watching for her reaction.
"What?" she asked, shocked, speechless and hopeful all at once. Her voice rose up a pitch, along with her posture rising slightly.
Chase watched how her emotions played out across her face. She was like an open book. Her blue eyes glued themselves to the man, not sure what to do, or what to say.
Was he serious? Clare thought.
"You will be finishing school, and I can give you a few websites to check out that will offer online courses that will suit you best, along with the knowledge that you already know. You will each have a computer and desks set up in one of the spare rooms upstairs for you to use once that room is cleaned up," Chase said.
"Which that will be one of the first tasks I will have you do. If you could re-arrange that bedroom to have a classroom feel to it, where there will be room for two small desks, and space for both of you to work," he went on.
"Now, Summer," he turned his green eyes to her. She froze, not sure what to expect. "I know you didn't get to finish school, but you did have some schooling up to the age of sixteen, correct?"
Summer nodded, keeping her gaze down on her forgotten food that had now gone cold. She placed her shaking hands in her lap.
"Good. I want you to get your GED, at least. Then, if you want, you can take some college courses later on. To make a way in this world, either here or on your own, you need some sort of foundation to fall back on."
Summer nodded. She could do that. She had wanted to finish school, to become something worth being. But she didn't hold much hope in the matter. He could take it away just as easy.
But as his words registered, did that mean that she wouldn't be stuck here, with him, with a life of being enslaved. Would she be able to live a life she had always wanted?
She didn't allow herself to hope for a better life. Summer was sure it wasn't as easy as Mr. Marcel was saying it was.
"Now, do either of you know your parents?" Chase asked after letting the girls get their thoughts in order. He sat back in his chair.
"I don't," Clare answered with a shake of her head. "I was given to a family as an infant, so I never met them." Her heart was heavy at the thought. At least that was what she was told over and over every time she asked about them.
Summer nodded her head. She knew who her father was, but didn't want to think of him. He was mean and ruthless. She had lived in his household for a few years as her stepmother raised her until he didn't want to see her anymore. He'd always make sure to tell his bastard chi
ld just what he thought every time he saw her. He had even popped up a time or two, causing more abuse towards her already bruised and beaten body. Her mother was a maid, she knew she was alive, but that was it. She didn't know her name or where she was.
"Okay, that's fine," Chase said, not wanting to give more information out then needed right now. "In the files, Clare, it says your mother passed away shortly after you were born. You were to go to your grandparents, and for some reason, you never got there. They have both passed now also, just last year in fact."
He paused, letting Clare get her thoughts in order before addressing the other girl.
"Summer, you mother is a maid for a household that I know very well, and even grew up in," he said, keeping an eye on her. He told her the half-truth, not wanting to bombard her with too much at one time. Summer sat immobile, letting the knowledge sink in.
She was furious. Her father who'd rather keep her for most of her life, killing her soul little by little, rather than let her live with her mother, who was in fact alive and well. But maybe she wasn't able to have a child where she was. Maybe she was in the same predicament as her herself was now, today. She decided to be neutral about things she couldn't change.
Summer glanced up at the man, waiting to see if he was done. She wanted to be done with this conversation. She no longer wanted anything to do with her father, and would gladly do anything to piss her father off just for the way he treated her for so many years.
Even just thinking of him, Summer couldn't help but spat his name out in her mind.
"Thank you for your time," Chase said in a kind and gentle voice. He could tell that the older of the girls had already had enough with this subject. He didn't want to press too hard, but from the files he had received, he knew that Summer was raised in her father's home, and not well, for the first few years of her life. He had popped in when he felt the need, and that wasn't often.
"Once you are done cleaning the kitchen, you can start work on the spare room, just let me know and I will show you where it is. Take your time; there's no rush," he finished before getting up and putting his own dishes in the sink. "If you need help moving anything, let me know and I will gladly help. No strings attached."
Normally, he would stay to help, but knew that the girls needed their space. He wanted to ease them into the life he wanted for them as much as he could. He was slowly going to allow more privileges, letting them explore their options when they were better situated. He didn't want to throw them out into the world without knowing what they were capable of, and what their father would do.
Their father was another mafia boss, and he would do anything to take Chase and his family down. For some reason, his great grandfather and that man never could get along, so they split after running the same family for generations. Now, with Chase being the Prince, born to the now running boss of the Marcel family, his time was coming to show what he was capable of.
Marrying Summer Grace Meads would cause a war between the two families, and Chase was looking forward to it.
Chapter 4
While Clare finished the dishes, Summer made her way to the spare bedroom behind Chase, trying to get a head start on it. Opening the door, she found it cluttered, dirty, and musky. Obviously, Chase, as he had insisted they were to call him, never used this room but for storage. Boxes of old clothes, books, and other things were stacked against the walls in no particular order. It was like a tornado had struck it. Some boxes overstuffed, clothes and old magazines laying on the floor, scattered about.
No wonder he had said there was no hurry to get it done. It would take days since neither Clare nor Summer would not be able to lift the boxes. And what would be done with all this anyway? But at least they would be kept busy.
The room was about the same size, if not slightly smaller, than the room they had slept in the night before. Clare wasn’t sure she really wanted to work on this room after looking at it. She hated sorting things that were covered in a layer of dust.
Chase stood in the doorway, watching the girl who would be becoming his wife. He could see that she was surprised at the lack of care the room had. He never had a use for it other than storing things he no longer used or needed, as it was the closest room to the stairs other than his room. The only guest room he had furnished was the one he had given the girls. Some things he’d keep, but most of it would be thrown out.
“I will get some bookshelves for the books, meanwhile they can be stacked in the closet,” Chase said quietly, still causing the girl to jump and spin around, shooting a death glare towards him before masking her emotions once again. He wished he could see them more. “The clothes can be stacked along a wall to be donated, unless there’s something you want, of course. Anything else can be taken to the attic.”
Summer gave a nod, her heart pounding against her chest. Automatically, her hands had shot to her chest, holding herself together. He gave a small smile at her antics before she schooled her face.
Summer had an adorable button nose and heart-shaped face framed by her soft brown locks that had a slight curl at the ends. She was one of a kind, even with her hair in need of a trim. He could already picture her filled out with eating properly. Being this close to her, Chase saw the light dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose and cheekbones. She’d do well being his wife in due time.
“I’ll call the donation place once everything is sorted,” he went on after a moment, ignoring her reactions. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, more to stop himself from touching her than anything else. “My sister-in-law will be here soon with clothes for you and Clare.”
She gave another slight nod before turning back to the room and picking a box to sort through. It was filled with clothes from his high school days. They were older and at least the box had protected them from the dust. None of them was a style she wanted. He must have been into the Gothic scene growing up with all the dark colors and emo sayings on the front of many of the shirts.
She briefly wondered how old he was since he had this house, so many cars, and people on call at the tips of his fingers. Would she even be here long enough to find out? Would she even be alive long enough?
Shortly after Summer sat the first box by the door, folded and nicely closed, Clare made her way in, her hair pulled up and out of her face into a messy pony tail. She had the same reaction as the other girl had.
“This will take days,” she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her too big sweatpants that she had rolled up at the waist so they didn’t drag on the ground when she walked. “But it could be worse. At least it’s not dead bodies we have to clean up.”
Summer shivered at that thought. She hated blood, so she would gladly deal with the dust, and whatever else she may find in this room. She had her share of dealing with blood, her own and that of others. Blood stains were always the worst to get out of clothing and off the floor. But it was doable with the correct cleaning tools and products.
“Ohh! Porn box!” Clare sang not long after. “Wonder what he wants done with it?” She mused to herself, setting it in a different section for the man to look through. As tempting as it was to snoop, Clare knew better than to look.
“I’m not willing to look through it. Do you want to, Summer?” She shook her head. Summer would rather not. Anything to do with sex was not appealing to her.
Summer kept her shoulders inward, waiting for . . . she wasn’t entirely sure what. But surely something would happen. She wasn’t used to being able to be relaxed. She’d learned the hard way to keep her walls up constantly, no matter what.
“I won’t hurt you, or anything, you know,” Clare trailed off, watching the girl out of the corner of her eye.
Summer slightly relaxed. After a moment, she gave Clare a small nod, letting her know she was at least trying.
“So far, I like it here. I really don’t think he means us any harm,” Clare went on, trying to keep the silence away. She kept her voice low, but loud enough for Summer to hear as they worked throu
gh the mess of boxes.
“He’s different than the other men I know of, so it has to be better. He’s letting us finish school,” Clare went on, happy that something for once was going in a good direction. Her smile was bright at just the thought of doing something . . . so normal.
They had about a quarter of the room cleaned up and sorted before Chase returned, a woman with a fake tan in tow behind him. The woman was about the same age as him, dressed in designer jeans and shirt with high heels. She held a number of shopping bags on her arms, along with a dress bag. She looked like she had walked off of beauty pageant with how put together she was from head to toe.
Her dark amber eyes pierced the two working girls, her pointed nose turned up against the dust and dirt that the room contained. Summer and Clare both had dust covering their clothes, but it didn’t affect what they were doing, or how they saw themselves the least bit. To them, this was ten times better than anything else they had done in the past.
The Dark Prince (The Dark Prince Trilogy #1) Page 4