Looking away, Michael grabs my arm forcefully. “I told you, bedroom. Now. And stop talking.”
I yank myself back. “No. Not until I get your word. I want you to promise that you’ll stay away from Ryder. Don’t hurt him any more. He’s been through enough.”
“I’m not promising you anything. I’m telling you what to do.” He shoves me in front of him. ”Now go, or I’ll use the knife on you.”
I feel the cold blade press down, a trickle flowing down my neck—my blood? Refusing to move forward, I spin around to face him. “What are you going to do, huh? Rape me? Kill me? There’s a security guard right outside. You do this to me, and you’ll be caught right away.”
A repulsive smirk appears on his face. “You think I’m that stupid? I am a powerful man. You can’t stop me. No one can. You saw how easy I got your boyfriend. If you don’t do what I say, I’ll get him again. And this time, he won’t escape.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. What if he gets Ryder again? I couldn’t live with myself if something would happen to him that I could have prevented. “Fine. Take me and do whatever you want to do. But leave him alone. Please. I’ll do anything you want. But don’t you dare touch him.”
“I don’t care about your fucking boyfriend.” His eyes spitting fire, he lifts the knife off my throat and brandishes it in front of me. “Don’t you get it? It’s always been about you.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I stare ahead—unable to utter a word, unable to resist when Michael’s hand forces me forward, out of the kitchen.
What does he mean, it’s about me? My first impression of him must have been correct—I must know him. But who is this asshole?
A kick from behind me, and the door to the bedroom flies open. As the giant bed looms in front of me, my voice returns. “I don’t get it. What do you mean, it’s about me? How do you know me?”
A shove in my back makes me fall headfirst onto the bed. “What have I ever done to you?” I yell.
“You, Lily O’Halloran, have ruined my life.”
What the fuck? How does he know the name that my parents gave me, the name I haven’t used for years? I whirl around and am hit with the pure hatred that pours from Michael’s eyes.
“Yeah, you heard right. You ruined me.”
“What? You told me—you said you’re rolling in it. You have millions. How in hell are you ruined?”
“I wasn’t talking about money,” he sneers.
“What is this about then? I don’t even know you.”
He raises his finger, waving it in front of my eyes. “You knew of me. And you still did it. You have no shame, you bitch.”
I sit up, confusion flooding my mind. “Did what? What the hell are you talking about?”
His finger stabs my chest. “Don’t you dare deny it. What, you really think you can get away with it?”
I raise my hands in surrender. “Why don’t you just explain it to me? I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. You’ve got the wrong person. It’s not me.”
He stabs my chest again, hard, but I ignore the pain, baffled by the certainty with which he weaves his lies.
“It’s you,” he yells. “You’re the filthy American whore who sells her body, sells her soul. And for what? For money, for American dollars, that’s what.”
A hot fury invades my veins. “You asshole! You don’t even know me. I’ve been fighting against the rich, against capitalism for years. I was a member of an anti-capitalist group. I’ve organized sit-ins, rallies, protests. Don’t you dare tell me I sell myself for money.”
He tosses his head back in vicious laughter. “Look at where we are now: the presidential suite of the Peninsula Hotel, which costs more than ten thousand dollars a night. The suite where you’re staying with your billionaire boyfriend. Don’t tell me you don’t care about money.”
Damn. I have to admit it seems hypocritical for me to claim I’m a hard-core anti-capitalist while I’m staying at this luxury hotel, a symbol of all that I’ve been fighting against in the past. His words make me realize that I’ve changed, that I’m not that person any more.
Lowering my gaze, I mutter, “No, it’s not like that. You don’t understand.”
Ignoring me, Michael continues his rant. “You know what you are ? A pathetic liar. Worse, you actually believe in your own lies.”
I pinch my lips together, forcing myself to stay calm. Clearly, there is no point arguing with this psycho. I have to keep my cool.
“Just tell me exactly what is this about. I’m sure we can work this out.”
“Okay. But I’ll do you one better. I’ll show you what this is about.”
He points at my chest with the knife. “Now, strip.”
“What? No.” Hugging myself, I shake my head vehemently.
“Strip or I’ll make a call and your precious boyfriend is dead.” He reaches into his pocket and lifts out a cell phone.
I swallow. This is no idle threat—he’s proven he is capable of committing heinous crimes. I have to tread carefully, reining in that flammable temper of mine, so I put on my most appeasing voice. “Please tell me what I’ve done to make you hate me so much. Make me understand. Maybe I can make it up to you.”
He lets out an evil cackle. “It took me a while to find you. But now that I have, you’re going to pay.” Replacing his cell in his pocket with one hand, Michael’s other uses the blade of the knife to lift my chin. “All I want is for you to have a taste of how it feels, to suffer like I have. That’s the only way you can make it up to me.”
Suppressing the anger I feel bubbling up, I say through my teeth, “Why don’t you just kill me? You can get rid of me once and for all.”
“That’s too easy. It wouldn’t do justice to the sins you’ve committed. Someone as evil as you need to be punished.”
The hot ball of fury inside me explodes. “Sins?” I scream. “Stop talking bullshit. I’ve never done anything to you. You’re just a sick scumbag who likes fucking with people’s minds.”
His hand slaps me across the cheek, and I fall backwards onto the mattress, my hand covering the intense sting.
“Shut the fuck up, you bitch!” He grabs a handful of my T-shirt, pulling me up. “You ruined my life, my mother’s life. We had it good. Until he took that trip to America. And after that he was never the same again.”
“Who the hell are you talking about?”
“My father, of course, who else? You should know—you’re the one who changed him.” He releases his hold, and I tumble back onto the bed.
“How could I?” I whisper. “I don’t even know him.”
Michael glares down at me. “Elle O’Halloran, daughter of Steve O’Halloran and Han Meilin. Han Meilin, sister of Han Dongwu. My father.” He points at me. “Your uncle.”
Oh my God.
Uncle Han—the uncle who visited my family on a business trip from China. The uncle who raped me when I was fourteen. The uncle who I inherited a fortune from.
“I—he—” I shake my head, unable to form a cohesive sentence.
His cold, hard eyes bore into me. “Since taking that trip, my father changed completely. He buried himself in work and didn’t give me the time of day. I tried everything, everything to get his attention. But he was never there any more for me and my mom; he hardly even came home. He got drunk, he started gambling.” Narrowing his eyes, he points at his chest. “I thought it was me. I thought I wasn’t good enough for him. Only when he died, I discovered it had nothing to do with me. It was you who took him away from me. Because of what you did to him.”
A red-hot flame flaring up inside me, I sit upright. “What I did to him? What he did to me, you mean. He raped me.”
His jaw clenched, Michael quickly wipes his forehead with the hand holding the knife. “Of course you’d say that. But I know the truth. My father would never do anything like that. He was a good man.”
“Good? Is that what you call a rapist?”
“Don’t you dare call him that! You se
duced him. You broke him.” His knuckle is white from his grip on the knife’s handle. “You made him take his own life.”
My brows draw into a frown. “I didn’t know he killed himself.”
“The guilt of what you made him do—that’s what killed him.” His gaze drops, and for a moment, Michael looks sad, dejected. But not an atom in me feels sorry for him. “I was fourteen—a kid,” I whisper. “A virgin, for God’s sake. He came on to me. I’d never even made out with a boy before. Your father was a monster.”
Michael’s hand shoots out and curls around my throat. “You’re a whore and a liar. I can’t believe he gave you one million in his will. It should have been for me.” Stamping his foot on the floor, he releases me and points at his nose with one finger. “His only child, his only son. You were nothing to him. What did he see in you anyway? Hell, what does that billionaire boyfriend of yours see in you?”
It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times, but only now do I have the courage to voice what I knew in my heart, but didn’t dare to believe. “Ryder loves me. Unconditionally. And that’s a lot more than anyone could ever say about you. Because you admitted it yourself—not even your own father did.”
To my surprise, he lets out a loud snicker. “You call that love? You think your so-called boyfriend loves you so much that he’d fuck another girl the minute he has the opportunity?”
“He had no choice! You forced him!”
Michael shakes his head. “I didn’t force him. Is that what he told you? And you believed it? You must be more in love with him than I thought.”
I point at him, stabbing my finger in the air. “You put Viagra in his drink. That’s why he was turned on, not because of that girl.”
“Even if that were true, it doesn’t mean he isn’t to blame. Don’t you know how Viagra works? You won’t even have an erection unless you’re sexually aroused. If you don’t believe me, google it.” He lowers the knife. “I didn’t put a gun to his head. No, he had a choice. He didn’t have to do it, but he wanted to.”
Refusing to listen to his lies, I cover my ears with my hands. “You made her take her clothes off. You made her touch him. That’s why he was turned on.” My hands drop to the sides. “But you know what? He didn’t do it with her. He faked it.”
Michael snickers. “Do you really believe that? I was there. I could see it, I could hear it, I could smell it. I’m telling you, he’s lying to you. You think he’d be in bed naked with a pretty girl like that and didn’t get off? Who do you think you’re kidding?”
My stomach drops. I have to admit to myself that what he says makes sense. It would take someone with an insane self-restraint to be able to hold back. But can I really blame Ryder, considering the situation he was in? “He was trying to help her. If he hadn’t, you would have taken away her baby.”
The disdain on his face makes him look even more repulsive. “What a load of nonsense. She didn’t even have a baby. He knew what the deal was all along. But I’ve got to hand it to him, it’s a great excuse to fuck another girl and get away with it.”
I shake my head, but a sliver of doubt niggles at me. Would Ryder have lied to me? No, no, my rational brain says. I know Ryder. I know he’d never do that to me. I know he only loves me and would never do anything to hurt me. I just know it.
Smugness radiates from Michael’s face. “Feels shit, doesn’t it? To be betrayed by someone you love. Now you know what it feels like.”
That asshole is full of lies, I know he is. Then why do I feel a stab of betrayal in my heart?
But before I can squash that feeling, his hand is on my collar and gives a strong tug. With the other, he cuts open my T-shirt’s front, and before I can stop him, yanks my shirt off. As the cool air touches my bare skin, I cover myself with my arms. “Don’t do this. Please.”
Michael’s face is inches away from me—close enough that I can feel and smell his breath: alcohol and cigarettes. It’s familiar yet repulsive.
A flash of insight hits me right between my eyes—I do know him.
“I remember you. You were there when they tried to take me in Hainan. You were wearing sunglasses.”
Michael’s lips curve into a grin. “That’s right. If that asshole Fong hadn’t saved you, it would’ve been much simpler. I wouldn’t have to go through all this. But in a way I’m glad it happened this way. This way I made you both suffer.”
He raises the knife and holds the flat of the blade against my throat. “But you still need to be taught a final lesson.”
A shove, and I’m lying on my back. I try to kick, punch, and scream, but he launches himself on me. His fat weight crushes me, takes away my breath. With the cool blade against my throat, I look into his widened eyes, crazed with lust.
“You—you punished me enough,” I croak. “Why do you still have to do this?”
He swivels his hips, opens up my legs with his knees, and rubs his hard bulge against me.
“I have to feel for myself what my father saw in you.”
Chapter 18
Ryder
“Faster, faster, faster!”
I’ve been egging the driver on all the way to the hotel, and even before the limo comes to a complete stop, I leap out.
Please, please, let me be on time.
Shards of regret stab me in the stomach. I should never have left Elle alone in the hotel; she would have been safe with me at the police station.
As I swipe my card for the private elevator, my cell rings, and I immediately pick up.
“Ryder, we’re on our way.”
Ying. I let out a sigh of relief. She must have received the text and voicemail messages I left her earlier when her line was engaged.
“We’ll be there in just a few minutes,” she says. “Are you already at the hotel?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait for me in the lobby and stay there. Don’t do anything crazy, okay?”
The elevator doors open, and I step inside. “No, I won’t. I’ll see you soon.”
I quickly put the phone down, but not before I hear her call out, “Don’t go up to the suite, you hear?”
My finger jabs the button for the top floor. There’s no way I’m waiting for her in the lobby. I have to find out if Elle is still in there; if she’s safe. The police will be here shortly, anyway.
As soon as the doors open, I dash to the entrance of our suite. The security guard, who should be patrolling the hallway, is nowhere to be seen. Panic builds in my chest—am I too late? Has she already been taken?
I place my ear against the door and wait for a few seconds before I enter. Once inside, nothing but a eerie silence greets me.
I take a few steps, careful not to make a sound, when I stop dead in my tracks.
Voices.
My hand on the wall, I strain my ears, but I can’t tell if one of them is Elle’s. They seem to be coming from the far end of the suite—probably from the bedroom.
The thick carpet muting my footsteps, I slowly make my way through the formal living and dining room, but when I reach the study, I stop. I can see the double doors to the bedroom from here, one of them open.
One of the voices emanating from the bedroom is male and the other clearly female. I listen to their exchange for a moment, and my pulse speeds up. It’s Elle.
Thank God. She’s here. She’s alive.
Soundlessly, I circle around the desk to inch along the wall, my eyes fixed on the door. The voices become louder.
“You’re finally going to pay, you bitch.” I freeze, the evil tone chilling my blood. I’d recognize it anywhere: Michael.
Carefully, I curve my head around and peek through the crack.
What I see makes my heart leap into my throat.
The bastard is on our bed, on top of Elle, her legs spread underneath him.
Without a second thought, I step into the doorway. “Let her go. You want me.”
Michael spins around, and the crazed expression in his eyes tells me I have to tread ca
refully.
“Ah, if it isn’t lover boy. Here to rescue that little slut of yours?”
Balling my fists, I force myself to suppress the anger building inside. I have to stay calm; Elle’s life depends on it.
“Michael. Don’t do this. I’m here now. Why don’t you take me and let her go?”
“No.” He turns away from me, and a glint of light flashes from his hand. My heart starts pounding painfully. He has a knife on her throat. A knife he won’t hesitate to use.
I take a deep breath. “Listen, I know what you’re after—revenge on me. Well, you’ve got what you wanted. My business is on the brink of ruin, thanks to that virus you’ve unleashed. I’ll be broke and on the streets soon.” I lift my hands in surrender. “So you win.”
Michael’s eyes narrow. “Of course I do. And you get what you deserve, you filthy gweilo dog.” His mouth pulls into a smirk. “But you know what? I don’t care a shit about you. Never have. Never will. You’re just a pawn—nothing less, nothing more.”
“Pawn? What the hell are you talking about?”I furrow my brow in confusion.
“This is about me.”
I flinch on hearing Elle’s voice. What the hell is she talking about?
Michael leans back, and I see her face for the first time. A gleam of toughness in her eyes, she gazes up at me for an instant and looks down again. “His father is the one I told you about. My uncle from China.”
Her uncle the rapist? She can’t be serious. “You don’t mean—?”
She gives a nod, and my hand grips the door jamb. My mind is reeling—could it be true? Elle’s uncle was the man who robbed her of her childhood, the man who left her one million dollars out of remorse for raping her. And if he’s really his father, that would make Michael Elle’s cousin.
“I don’t understand.” One brow arched, I narrow my eyes. “What does all this have to do with him?”
Elle sighs. “He thinks I’ve ruined his life.”
“Thinks?” he screams. “You ruined it full stop, you dirty whore.”
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