by Fawn Bailey
She beat me in the game of chess, not because I let her win but because I was distracted. I was fairly certain both of the women had noticed my faraway stare, but neither said a word about it - Ginger intimidated by my warning, and Ophelia refusing to speak.
Hours later, we were sitting down to dinner when Ginger spilled a whole jug of water all over my expensive suit.
She froze mid-air, her face so pale she looked like a ghost as she looked at me.
"I'm s-so sorry," she managed to get out, so obviously terrified I couldn't even get mad.
I chuckled lightly, got up and took the jug out of her shaking hands.
"It's alright," I told her. "Just sit down before you hurt yourself."
I glanced at Ophelia on the other end of the table and caught her looking at me with an expression I hadn't seen in a long time.
The longing in her eyes was something I'd been used to years ago. But not now.
It filled me with hope, but also a strange feeling of dread I had no explanation for.
"I'm sorry," Ginger rushed to explain. "I shouldn't have been... I mean I... I'm just so sorry."
"That's fine," I told her.
I started unbuttoning my blazer, soaked to the skin with cold water. Both of them stared at me as I unbuttoned my shirt next, and I found myself going even more slowly, enjoying their lingering gazes.
I stripped down to the waist and threw the ruined clothes on the floor.
"Get a maid to take care of those," I told the women. "And try not to break anything while I'm gone."
Ginger nodded, swallowing thickly as she did her best not to look at me.
I walked out of the room and back to my bedroom, where I quickly changed clothes. My heart was pounding as I looked at my watch, noticing that I only had five minutes left.
The figure of Andreas, the security guard, lingered in front of my bedroom, and when I came out, his hand landed on my shoulder.
"It's time," he told me, motioning toward my study.
I wanted to fucking kill him for laying his filthy hands on me, but instead, I just nodded when he shifted position and I could see the gun behind the waistband of his pants.
He walked me to the study and waited outside while I made the call that would change our fate.
My father made me wait, picking up when I'd almost gotten tired of waiting.
"Made that call, son?" he asked right away.
I swallowed my pride and responded.
"Yes," I said. "But I also have a few requests of my own..."
Chapter Seventeen
Kain
Waking up chained to a chair wasn't something I wanted to get used to.
When my eyes flew open, I tried to move - an instinct that sent me into panic mode once I realized I was immobilized.
"What the fuck," I mumbled, my eyes opening painfully slowly.
I'd been drugged. It hadn't been the first time, and I still remembered the numbing haze of the sedatives that had been used on me before. I needed to focus, though. I needed to figure out what had happened.
As I struggled to make sense of the situation, the memories slowly started trickling back in, filling me with more dread than I'd ever felt before.
Michael... my biological father. He was the one responsible for all of this. He was the one who'd come to my house and taken me, ripped me from the safety of my home. I'd run, and I'd hid, but I wasn't fast enough to escape his anger. Now, I was left to his cruel devices, and I knew he wasn't going to be nice.
"Welcome back to the living."
A cruel but charming voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up through hazy eyes to meet my father's gaze, burning with hatred and the need to punish me.
"Where the fuck am I?" I groaned.
I sounded groggy and totally out of it, and I hated it for the sign of weakness it showed. I didn't want my father knowing he'd gotten a leg up on me. I wanted him to die for everything he'd done to me and Ophelia.
"That doesn't matter," he told me plainly. "All that matters is that you're going to fucking die here."
"No," I ground out. "You're going to die here."
He laughed and got up from the chair he was sitting in opposite of me.
I took the opportunity to survey the room we were in.
It was a large space with exposed piping and crumbling brick walls, dingy and old, smelling of things long past their prime. There was an incessant dripping sound coming from behind me, an old leaky pipe spilling its guts all over the floor.
My father got up from his chair, the same one I was sitting on except without all the ropes and restrains that kept me in place. He strolled around the room as if he didn't have a single worry in the world.
If I were him, I wouldn't have been so certain.
As long as I was alive, he had something to be afraid of. An enemy that was going to fucking destroy him first chance he got.
I may have been strapped to a chair, but it didn't make a difference to me. My intentions remained the same. Kill my father. Avenge Ophelia's family. Fucking take over everything, like I should have done a long time ago.
"I have a bone to pick with you," Michael said thoughtfully as he paced the room. "See, I had a thought. A really good one, or so I thought."
"I don't give a shit," I barked at him. "I don't care what you have to say, old man. You're never going to convince me to yield to you."
"Yield?" he laughed out loud. "Oh, I'm not trying to convince you. I'm fucking forcing you to do it, Kain. But let's talk first before we get into the logistics of your death. I want to tell you a couple of things... And I also want some answers first."
I stayed stubbornly quiet, not saying a single word and just staring into his cruel eyes as he came to a stop near me, leaning down to stare straight into my fucking soul.
"You know, I've wanted to get my hands on you for so long," he said with an unforgiving smile. "There are so many things I want to do to you, Kain. Pull your nails off one by one... Break your knees so you know you can't walk ever again. Keep you in pain and agony for weeks before I finally kill you. Kill everybody you love right before I get rid of you... Oh yes, I have plenty of ideas."
I gritted my teeth but refused to feed his ego, staying stubbornly quiet and keeping my eyes trained on his handsome, chiseled features.
"But something happened that took me by surprise," he went on thoughtfully. "Something that I wasn't expecting."
If he was surprised or annoyed by the fact I refused to say a word, he didn't show it. He just stared me down with the hint of a smile playing on his lips as he went on.
"Your little girl, Ophelia," he said. "She surprised me today."
My nails dug into the splintered wood of the chair. God, I was fucking angry. I hated him mentioning her name, wanted to fucking kill him every time he spoke of her.
"You watch your mouth," I told him through gritted teeth, making him laugh out loud.
"Boy," he said dismissively. "Look at yourself, and then look at me. You really think you're in a place to make fucking demands right now?"
I held my breath and refused to answer him. I knew he was going to tell me the rest of the story. He was too much of a sick bastard to keep me in the dark.
"You know," he said thoughtfully. "For a long time, I really thought she loved you. For some sick, fucked-up reason, she seemed enamored by you. In love with you. I thought she'd be my second biggest obstacle after you. That girl had a mind of her own."
He leaned down next to me, hissing the next few words in my face.
"Until I spoke to my son recently," he said.
His words felt like a goddamn punch in the nuts.
Ryker had been working behind my back then. Talking to his father, telling him about Ophelia, fucking ruining everything I'd been working so fucking hard for. He'd betrayed me, his brother, for the sick fuck that had raised him.
"I heard all about what you'd done to her," he said. "I couldn't believe it, so I went to check it out in person. You kno
w, make sure she really was ruined like Ryker told me."
My fists tightened against the rope that held me in place. The incessant dripping of the water behind me was like the soundtrack of my mind.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Kill.
Kill.
Kill.
"I went to see her," he went on. "She really is fucking broken, isn't she?"
He laughed out loud as if it were a funny joke his friend had told him. God, I wanted to fucking kill him. Once I got free, I was going to absolutely destroy him.
"You've really fucked up this time around, boy," Michael said darkly. "I thought I'd trained you into a monster, and you know what... I think I was right."
He leaned even closer, saying, "You know that girl is never coming back, right? Whatever you did to her pushed her too far. You're never going to get her back. She will never love you again."
"You have no fucking idea what you're talking about," I barked at him. "She loves me."
"Really?" he laughed merrily. "Is that why she chose Ryker over you?"
A silence followed, my heart beating so fast I thought it would burst out through my fucking chest.
"I heard you and my real son made a little deal," he went on. "I heard you promised you'd let her stay with him if she chose him over you."
My jaw set as I stared at him, unwilling to give him an answer.
It was the truth - almost a month ago, I had given that promise to Ryker. But how did Michael know about it? And why was he throwing it in my face now?
"Ryker told me your - well, his - girl is all better now," he said wickedly. "In fact, she's already made her decision."
He pulled a knife from his boot and weighed it in his hands thoughtfully before grinning at me.
"You know," he said. "I always had a soft spot for Ophelia Sokolov. She seemed harmless until you got ahold of her. But I let her stay alive because I knew both my sons loved her. And now that she's chosen Ryker, I'm going to honor her decision and let them stay together."
He leaned closer, pressing the tip of the knife to my chest, right between my ribs.
"You know what that means, don't you, Kain?" he asked me sweetly.
I stared right into his eyes, daring him to do it. Kill another one, take another life that he should have taken a long time ago. I would never have been so much trouble if he'd taken my life along with my real parents. But Michael was a selfish bastard. He couldn't walk away from an opportunity to hurt somebody else, even when it was his own blood running through the victim's veins.
"It means," he went on, toying with the knife and flicking the button of my stained shirt off. "It means I don't need to keep you around anymore. It means you get to pay for all those sins now, sonny boy."
"You're going to kill me?" I hissed at him, and he chuckled in response, shaking his head.
"No, boy," he said. "I'm going to fucking make your life a living hell. Then... Then, I'm going to kill you."
He leaned in closer, his knife shredding my shirt until I was practically naked to the waist down.
"I've already done so much to you," he said thoughtfully. "Made sure you can't have kids... Taken so many things from you, boy. I wonder what I should take next?"
All of a sudden, he sliced at the skin on my chest, cruel, punishing slashes breaking the skin right away and making blood pour down my chest.
I gasped but didn't scream. The pain was sharp and blinding but I didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing my reaction. I was just going to hold it in. All the pain, all the hurt, all the hatred I felt for the man in front of me. I was never going to show him that he was hurting me.
I was dead inside, anyway.
Ophelia hadn't chosen me.
She'd chosen somebody else, the man I'd spent years hiding her from.
She was supposed to be mine.
She was supposed to pick me.
Always me.
Her Master, her kind but cruel owner, her jailor, her beautiful bastard.
Yet none of it was enough, and she'd chosen the other route, not giving a shit what happened to me in the process.
The thought filled me with anger and venom, never aimed at Ophelia. Instead, I found myself angry at Ryker and his father for ripping her away from me, brainwashing her pretty little head and convincing her she didn't need me anymore. That her body didn't crave mine, that her mind hadn't found its perfect match in mine.
They'd twisted my words and my actions, making her believe that I was the wrong choice.
They were all going to pay for that.
"I'm going to fucking kill you," I told Michael as the blood spilled down my chest. "I'm going to slice your throat open like a pig's and watch the blood drain out of your body. Slowly. A gash not deep enough to kill you instantly. I'm going to watch you die, and I'm going to laugh in your face while your life leaks out of you, you sick fuck."
He laughed in response, grabbing me by the hair and slicing my hair off the top of my head. He fucking sheared me until there was nothing but cuts and bare skin all over me. I was bleeding, blinded by the pain but not giving a shit about the consequences of my actions as I stared him down.
"You can do anything you want to me," I told him. "It's not going to change the outcome. You're a dead man fucking walking, Marino."
This enraged him, and he launched himself into another attack against me.
I sat back and took it.
For now.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryker
I was so. Fucking. Pent. Up.
I needed release more than I needed anything else, and the more I stared at Ophelia, the wilder it fucking drove me. She was still the beautiful girl I remembered, her features made even more beautiful by the passing of time. She was class and beauty, but I knew she could be a slut just as well.
As the days started to pass, I realized I wouldn't be able to hold my cock in my pants the whole time she was with me. I'd fucked a lot of women in my day, but I'd wanted to ignore that part of me while she was in my care. Lately, it was becoming impossible.
I called one of the girls I played with when I was younger. Her dad used to work for the Sokolovs, and the fact that I knew Ophelia hated her only made me fucking harder.
She was eager to cum, purring down the phone and asking me whether she should dress up. The only directions I growled at her was to be at my house late that night, and to come in through the back door.
The hours ticked by and Ophelia and Ginger were safely in their room. Fifteen minutes to nine, my phone pinged with a message as I stood in the kitchen, waiting for my toy of the night.
Can't make it tonight. Rain check? x
I was going to fucking kill her.
"Kill who?"
I turned around, realizing I'd spoken out loud.
Ginger was standing before me, and I stared her down hard as she giggled and reached to open the fridge.
"You know," she said sweetly. "You probably shouldn't be violent to women like that."
"Oh, fuck off," I growled at her, getting in front of her before the fridge and grabbing a bottle of orange juice. "You girls love it when you're getting roughed up."
She blushed deeply and looked away which made me curious.
She was a beautiful girl, there was no doubt about that. She had medium-length blonde hair styled in pretty waves that reminded me of vintage Charleston. Her lips were small but looked bee-stung with a pouty lower lip and a perfect Cupid's bow. Her eyes were bright blue and her skin was tanned. Her style was kind of retro - pretty floral dresses with cardigans and ballet flats. I liked looking at her. She was easy on the eyes.
She reached her hand out as I got my fill of the juice, and I handed her the bottle after I'd had most of it.
The girl just tipped it back and started drinking, seemingly not bothered at all that my lips had touched it.
Something changed for me in that moment.
I was no longer a man, I was a fuckin
g animal, and I needed my fix.
Weeks of watching Ginger had done their trick. I wanted her.
Ophelia had made it clear she wanted Kain. But with my father taking over our lives, fuck knows how long it would be since she got him back.
"How old are you, Ginger?" I asked her as she sat the bottle down.
"Eighteen," she replied with a smile, giving me a curious look through her thick black lashes. "Why do-HEY!"
I didn't let her finish. My hands wrapped around her thighs and I threw her over my shoulder.
She was a tiny fucking thing, anyway. I could've carried her around all day long.
"Shut the fuck up," I told her, my hand traveling up her ass. She let out a surprised gasp, and as I exposed her pink slit by sliding her panties to the side, it turned into a moan, making me chuckle. "Just as I fucking thought. Now don't make a single noise. You're coming with me."
She whimpered, hesitating for a moment before calling out, "Ophelia!"
I slammed my hand over her mouth, shutting her up.
"You want to be fucked, don't you?" I whispered, and she resisted my grip. "Stop. I'll let you go. Just tell me you don't want this."
I moved my hand off her lips and she stayed stubbornly quiet. Fuck me, she did want it. I was more than happy to oblige.
I carried her through the kitchen and out into the garden. The night was dark but pleasant and I laid her down in the grass in the backyard. No one but Ophelia would see us. No one but her would hear Ginger screaming. Oh yeah, I was going to make her scream.
She was whimpering as she lay in the grass and I reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it off with buttons flying everywhere.
"Don't pretend," I told Ginger. "Don't pretend like you don't want this. Like you haven't been watching. Don't pretend like you aren't craving me."
She twisted underneath me but didn't try to get away as I kissed her. She went still under me, her breaths panicked as I bit her pretty lips and sucked them between my teeth.
"You're a virgin, aren't you?" I whispered against her lips.
"I..." she panicked. "I'm, I-"
"It's okay," I said. "I bet your pussy is so fucking tight, isn't it, tesoro? Have your little fingers tried to fuck it yet?"