Corrupted (Manipulation Trilogy #1)

by Alicia Taylor

  I wake with a start, sweat coating my body. My face is damp with tears I’ve cried in my sleep and I shiver from the cold air clinging to my dampened skin. Seeing Lydia covered in all that blood is a regular nightmare for me but the dream of the night I lost my pops hurts more, even after all these years. The dreams are so real. Sometimes it takes me a while when I wake to realise how long ago I actually lost him. I will never forget that date – September 13th 2006.

  My body shakes as the remnants of my nightmare cling to my mind, trying to let the agony take over. I slow my breathing until I know I’m back in control and that pain is safely locked away in the back of my head.

  I don’t remember my mum. Lydia always said mum left because she couldn’t cope with having children. I know it was really because she couldn’t cope with me. She stayed when it was just Lydia but left soon after I was born. That’s all I needed to know. I’ve never looked for her, never wanted to.

  She was the first person to leave me. When pops died in a car accident it wasn’t just losing my dad, I lost my only parent. Losing Lydia made me realise I’m not made to be loved. Everyone leaves me eventually. I’m unlovable.

  The dreams always have one good thing about them, they always strengthen my hate. I can block my emotions off when I remember the pain I felt each time someone else left me. The dreams always help me see with clarity. My objective becomes clearer and the end feels close. Breaking Damon is my only objective in life now. I’m not sure what I’ll do once I finally get revenge for my sister.

  I take a deep breath, letting the oxygen spread through my body before I release it. I need a clear head. Today I start my mind games. Today I’m going to make Damon want me.

  I close my eyes and smile. Today will be the start of my everything.

  My room is still dark. The clock says its 5:45am. It’s Tuesday and I still don’t have a dress for the National Suicide Prevention Line charity event yet. It’s still early so I nestle back down under the warm comfortable blanket and try to settle back to sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  May 13th 2014

  After a few hours of dreamless sleep I wake feeling renewed and refreshed, ready to face the day. I have a lot to do in order to get ready to bring Hunt down. I need to play it differently this time. I don’t want to hook him and just leave. I need to get him to marry me. I can take everything from him then.

  I grow restless just thinking about it so I decide to get up. I dress in yoga pants and an off the shoulder top before sliding into my slippers. Opening the door, I walk downstairs and head to the kitchen. It’s a beautiful home. The kitchen is every baker’s dream. I love to bake. I find it therapeutic.

  The kitchen is huge and has a expensive feel to it. A big eight-ring burner sits atop a black marble-top island in the centre of the room. Three tall stools are positioned the opposite side of the island. Two ovens are affixed to the wall, purple gloss style cupboards add colour. Every chef’s dream appliances are spotted throughout the kitchen. Most accessories are chrome finished.

  I swiftly search around to locate items to make a quick breakfast. Grabbing a box of cornflakes and some milk I pour myself a bowl and start to wander around Damon's house, taking in my surroundings.

  I enter the living room which is cosy, reaching for the lamp. I switch it on and feel surprised. It’s actually very nice. There is a large comfortable looking corner sofa, a huge tv is attached to the wall as a main feature, and there are pictures hanging in various places. I glance at the pictures, taking a step closer for a better look. Some were of Damon alone, some were at events with business associates, and some are more casual, with family.

  Damon looks happy, relaxed, and carefree in every picture. There is so much love shining through the picture with his family. It’s hard to picture the Damon in these photos as the one who hurt my sister. He seems to be completely different than what I imagined.

  I can’t help the bitterness that is building inside me. I feel envious, and worse, I feel more alone than ever. The emotions I have been pushing down for so long rise to the surface again, thanks to my dream, and I can’t help the sob that escapes from my throat. I sink to my knees on the carpeted floor.

  I miss my family so much. I haven’t let myself feel for so long that I’ve blocked out how alone I actually am. When this is all over I’m going to have nothing left. I’ll be in the same position as Damon, only I’ll have the added sorrow of grief to deal with.

  The pain is going to be so bad that I’m not sure I will survive it. I have held off the emotions of being alone for so long that it has festered. It’s built. It hurts now and I know I’m still blocking most of the pain ready to drown me.

  Being alone is so hard. I never thought about the fact that eventually I will be alone, as I’ve always meant to be. I’m not worthy of love. I don’t know what I did but I must be a monster to be dealt a fate like the one I have.

  I feel his arms around me before I see him. The warmth of him pressing into my back brings comfort to my crumpled body. He holds me as he rocks us from side to side, whispering words to console me. I turn to face him, clinging to his body like he is my lifesaver, crying into his hard, smooth chest as I let all my grief flood my heart.

  “Let it out, baby. I got you.”

  His words find me searching for his mouth, pulling his head down to meet my demanding lips. My hands clutch him closer to me and he tenses beneath my fingers. I need to just feel something other than this pain. Anything. I whimper against his mouth, as he finally pulls me closer to him, letting me feel all of his hardness pressed against me. I feel a pool of lust hit me like a tidal wave, crashing through my system as quick as a tsunami.

  He feels so right.

  But I can’t feel. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want this. I need my grief, it is what is getting me through each day. I push him away and stand up, running for my room before I can say anything. Before he can say anything.

  Back in my room I feel anger. How dare he make me feel this way? This is not the game. I don’t need him, and I won’t need him. Ever.

  I pull my thin cotton shirt over my head and drop my pants to the floor. I collect my toiletries and walk into the bathroom, and turn on the shower. I give it time to heat up as I quickly get to work brushing my teeth. After a quick rinse I take a good look at myself. I look like the old me, the one who didn’t wear make-up, the one who cared about things, people. The one who had a future. I’m just a shell of that person now. A knock on the bathroom door sounds out.

  “Ella? If you don’t have plans today, would you consider joining me for lunch? Just as friends of course and we don’t have to talk about what just happened. Please?” Damon speaks through the door to me. Hearing his voice reminds me why I’m a shell of my former self now. It’s his fault.

  “Sure,” I call in a timid voice. “I need to go dress shopping too. I have an event to go to Thursday evening.” I smile to myself. I already know Damon is attending the exact same event. It’s the perfect way to let him know I’ll be there too.

  “Which event?” he questions. “I have one too.”

  “Can I finish with my shower then we can discuss details?”

  “Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. I’ll wait downstairs for you.”

  Stepping into the scorching hot water, it soothes my already heated skin. I scrub away all traces of his touch. Every single second his breath was on my skin is washed away. I feel raw, the pain is a reminder of why I am doing this, of why I need to take him down and ruin him.

  ****

  I dress in my black skinny jeans and emerald halter top, pairing them with six-inch black high heels that I know make my legs look so much longer. I need to go shopping for a dress for a charity function being held at a manor hotel to raise money for suicide prevention. All the high end businesses get an invite, the biggest competitors coming together for one night. The perfect place to see how easy it will be to manipulate Damon.

  I have known about this for months. Ellery, one of Dam
on’s closest female associates informed me of it and got me an invite. This event will be the night the second part of my plan is being put into action so I have to get something spectacular. I want his eyes on me. Only on me.

  Stepping into the kitchen Damon is standing with his arms folded across his chest. He is frowning when I walk in, a look of confusion and something else I can't quite place on his face. I keep my gaze trained on his trying to work out what that look was.

  “Morning,” I say with forced politeness.

  I pour myself a cup of coffee and add milk and sugar, before I sit down at the counter. I can feel his eyes on me watching my every move. He pulls out the chair next to me and sits down. I tip my head forward so my hair falls, shielding my face. I refuse to look at him. I need innocence to shine through.

  Feeling his leg brush up against mine, I turn my head in his direction and look at him from under my eyelashes. His hand moves to gather my hair in a fist and pushes it over my shoulder, unveiling my face. It’s a move that leaves me feeling vulnerable. He leans his face towards me but I shy away from him.

  “I have to go shopping for a dress. I will call you later about lunch.” I get up from the chair and move to leave. His hand touching my arm stops me in my tracks.

  “Ella, wait. I’ll come with you, I need to get a suit for an event Thursday too.” He smiles at me and for a second I get lost in his eyes. His chocolate eyes take my breath away. I remember how they looked as euphoria overtook them. I know how they look when they darken with hunger. I don't know what to say, shaking my head to get the image of him out of my thoughts. I turn and head to the door, Damon follows.

  As we pull up to the shops in my car I start to make excuses to go my own way, but Damon continues to follow me. I give up and just continue on my search for the dress.

  We search several stores, each one coming up empty. The conversation flows freely. We laugh. A lot. The day is turning out better than I hoped. If Damon was really as he has been today I have no doubt that I could fall hard for him. He’s charming, witty, funny, and not to mention he’s abso-fucking-lutely sexy as hell.

  Walking into a boutique, I browse the dresses quickly, picking up a selection of different styles. I head to the dressing room, giving Damon a glare to stay put.

  The first one I try on is a red floor length gown that feels skin tight. It is gorgeous but not sexy enough. I know I need to play hard with Damon. The next is a silver halter-neck dress that drapes down low in the front and has no back. It’s flowy and totally not what I need.

  The third one I try on completely takes my breath away. The charcoal skirt is floor length, parting right up the middle, revealing my long, tanned legs with each step I take. The waist is pinched in with crystal belts, highlighting my curvy hips. The bust is black lace with a tan underlining, almost making it appear see-through. The cuffs and neckline are finished with the same sparkling gems as the belts. It fits like a second skin on my upper body and floats out from my waist down. It's stunning but I know it will be too far out of my price range set for this event.

  I hang the dress back on hanger and leave the changing room. I sigh as I put the dress back on the rack, lingering and touching the delicate material. I really want it but I’m not prepared to go over my set limit and waste more money on a dress just for this man.

  I feel Damon come to stand behind me, his breath on my neck as he speaks.

  “You like it?” he whispers.

  I nod my head not daring to turn around, “It's too expensive. I could never afford this.”

  I'm not sure why I told him that, why I showed him a part of me I had been trying so hard to hide. The old me. My life has always been full of not being able to buy expensive things. I could never afford anything close to the price of this dress. That was before.

  Of course I can afford it now with all the inheritance I received. It’s not that I wouldn’t have been able to afford it in the last few years. I could have had anything I wanted, at any expense. I chose not to. I kept myself real when I was preparing myself to take on Damon. Now I need to use every last part of me to do that.

  It’s just that this man isn’t worth the amount of money the dress is priced. I refuse to spend more on this man than necessary. I can live the rest of my life without working and live a good life with my bank balance but I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life taking down this man. I plan for it to be as quick as possible. He’s not worth spending too much on when anything left between us will be ruined when I’ve finished. Why waste more money than necessary?

  I move away from both the dress and Damon, and head for door to go to the next shop. I have been walking for a couple of minutes before I realise Damon is not beside me. Puzzled, I turn and head back in the direction of the shop, reaching the store just as he walks out holding a bag. He holds it out to me and I know, I just know, it's the dress.

  Stunned by his generosity, I feel confusion creeping in. I have been at his house and he has been so kind and caring. I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes. What is happening to me?

  I turn my head away composing myself, taking deep breaths to regain control. I turn back to look at him. This is what he does. He makes you feel special.

  I kick myself for falling for it for a second. This is just part of his game. Lydia had written he likes to spoil his women to make them feel precious. This was just another one of his plans. I can play just as hard. I throw myself into his arms, shocking him again.

  “Thank you so much Damon, I love it. I'm going wear it to the NSPL event on Thursday.” He smiles as he holds me close to him, clears his throat, about to say something but I speak first. “My date is going to love it, he won't be able to keep his hands off me.”

  I feel Damon stiffen at my words and he releases me. When I look up at his face, it shocks me when I see anger and confusion mixed with hurt. What the hell? Why would that hurt him? I was hoping for jealousy.

  He mutters something about a meeting he forgot about and walks off, leaving me alone. Fine by me. I need some space to figure out what just happened. I walk back to my car, replaying the morning in my head. Why did Damon look so upset? Surely he was used to these games. After all, wasn't he the master manipulator?

  Everything is falling into place, so why do I feel that somewhere in this crazy plan things are getting confused? Emotions seem to be getting involved. His, I want. Mine, not so much. I don’t want to feel for this man. I have one emotion that he deserves and the only emotion I want to feel.

  Hate.

  CHAPTER NINE

  When I get back to Damon's house I realise that I don’t know the code to get in the gate, I take out my phone and send him a quick text message.

  Hey, are you home? I just got back and I don’t know the code to get in.

  I hit send and wait for the sound of my phone to beep, but instead the gates swing open. I drive up to the house and park. Damon is standing at the front door waiting for me.

  I push my hair out of my eyes and plaster on a bright smile. He looks confused for a second but quickly returns it. His eyes are devoid of emotions. He’s put his walls up. I need to make up for the hurt earlier. I can’t end up losing him. Time to change tactics again.

  “Have you eaten? I thought I could cook you dinner to say thank you for the dress.” I flash my eyes up at him, he seems taken aback at my offer. Hate could make him retaliate. I need to keep him on board.

  “No, I wasn’t sure what you were doing, I didn’t want to make plans and leave you alone.”

  I’m not sure how to take that from him. His eyes take me in from head to toe, the gleam in his eyes tells me he’s got himself back in control. I don’t understand how someone can be playing games the whole time. I have to believe that though because the only other option is that he isn’t playing games, and that would mean he isn’t the person that I thought he was. I wasn’t accepting that, I couldn’t accept that.

  I rush inside and head upstairs, throwing over my shoulder that dinn
er would be ready by 8pm.

  When I get into my room I take the dress out of its bag and hang it up. I love the feel of the material. I know it looks amazing and I can’t wait for Damon to see me in it.

  Pulling my hair up into a messy pile atop my head, I strip out of my clothes and slip into some casual pants and a vest. I head to the bathroom and wash my face clear of makeup and then head back down to the kitchen.

  ****

  I’ve been cooking for about half an hour when my skin tingles, awareness sets in. I can feel Damon without having to turn around to look at him. The feeling surprises me. When had I become so in tune with him that I can actually feel him when he is near me?

  I turn and smile “I hope you like Spaghetti Bolognaise?” He nods his head and smiles before pulling up a seat. Just as he’s about to sit I grab a salad bowl and knife and place it in front of him. “Make yourself useful, stud.” I throw him a wink and turn back to the pasta.

  A comfortable silence settles between us as we finish up dinner. Little touches here and there are setting my skin ablaze. He sure knows how to play a good game.

  “So, you’ve got a date?” Damon queries. I know he’s just fishing for information.

  “Yep.”

  “Will I know him?” The edge in his voice causes me to pause. He’s definitely not happy with me having a date. No doubt he already had one planned so I don’t understand his hostility.

  “Probably not.” I hope not. I didn’t think this out properly. What if he has met Tom whilst he was out with Lydia? Shit.

  “I’m not surprised you already have a date. You’re stunning.” His finger comes up to caress my cheek. A genuine smile lights up my face as I walk to collect plates to fill.

  “Thank you.”

  “If I had known you when I got my invite I would have taken you.” Not asked. Taken me. My smile drops as I plate up the food.