by J. L. Beck
I nod, feeling my heart beat out of my chest.
Happily ever afters were something I lost hope in not long ago, but looking at the three people sitting at the table with me, at the man who safe guarded me and risked his life for me, I know that they exist.
I know because I’m now living my own happily ever after.
The End
Prologue
Sophie
I feel nothing, even though I know I should feel something…anything. Maybe I numbed myself because my body can’t handle any more pain…or maybe I’m just broken. My body and my soul…broken beyond repair.
I stopped feeling anything a few days ago. I don't know exactly how long because I haven't been able to keep track of time. Hours bleed together in this cell, like an endless string of useless time.
Feeling nothing is better than the overwhelming pain and all-consuming dread.
How could my family do this to me? How could they just forsaken me this way, discard me like I’m nothing?
There was a time, not long ago, where praying would have been my answer. I would pray for the pain to go away, pray for my family to take me back, pray for strength to forgive them…
But after everything, after the beatings, being sold for money, my family took that faith from me. I never doubted anything they said. I believed in all they taught me, just to find that all of it was a lie.
My whole life a charade—a means to an end.
All my parents ever wanted was the money and power.
I see this now, but it’s too late.
Now I’m broken, my heart and mind fractured straight down the middle, and there’s nothing that can heal that kind of misery.
Chapter One
Roman
All eyes are on Ivan and me as we make our very first round through the compound he used to run for Rossi. Now that Rossi is dead, Ivan’s taken over the whole fucking operation. Big money is made in this place. All the high-dollar shit is made, kept, and processed here. A lot of things are changing, and a lot of these assholes don't like change.
You know what I say to that? Fuck them.
I groan at the shit Ivan made me wear. My muscles and torso feel so constricted, like I’m wearing a damn straitjacket. He told me it looks good and makes people respect you. The way I see it, people are going to respect me, or they’ll get my fist in their fucking face.
I can’t believe I’m wearing this monkey suit.
“Tell me again why I’m fucking doing this?” I adjust the collar of the stiff shirt and look over to my brother. The fucking bastard’s smirking. I have half a mind to knock the grin right off his face.
“Because I need someone I can trust with me in this place and I sure as hell don’t trust anyone who used to work for Rossi. I already took care of the ones I knew were loyal to him even after his death, but the rest of the men…I just don't know who exactly they are yet. Either way, I’ve already decided I’m not going to let anyone else help me.”
We’ve been walking through this place for a few hours now, and I’m more annoyed now than when I came in. This isn’t my fucking thing. Holding authority over a group of men. I run my gym and that’s it. What Ivan’s asking of me is something I’m not sure I can give him.
We continue to walk around. Ivan wants to make sure everybody knows who I am, and I get it, but fuck, I just want to get out of here and out of these ridiculous clothes. I want my jeans and loose t-shirts back.
“Come on, we can hang out upstairs at my place and relax before we make another walk around. I’ll even have some food brought up,” Ivan offers, and I’m more than happy to go someplace else where people aren’t fucking staring at me.
As soon as we are inside his apartment, I start taking half my clothes off, leaving me in socks, the dress slacks, and an undershirt. I exhale, and for the first time today, I feel like I can fucking breathe. Ivan shakes his head at me as I flop down on the couch, throwing my legs up on the table in front of me. He orders some food, and a guy brings it up ten minutes later.
As soon as I spot the food, my mouth starts to water. I grab my plate and start to dig in when a knock on the door interrupts us. Ivan groans, getting up to open the door, while I take another bite of my burger, then shove a fry into my mouth, letting the first couple bites settle in my stomach.
Fuck, I’m hungry.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, boss. We’ve got a slight problem and I’m not sure how you want it handled,” an unfamiliar voice tells my brother.
“Come in, Gabe. Tell me what’s going on while I finish eating my lunch.” Ivan motions for the guy to follow him, then sits back down beside me.
Ivan starts eating his burger while Gabe stands in front of us, unsure of the situation, and noticeably not use to being around Ivan.
“It’s about one of the girls who was supposed to go to the auction.”
“All those girls were supposed to be sent back home,” Ivan growls, clearly irritated by being reminded of that whole shit show in the basement.
Gabe sighs. “Well, that’s the problem. This last girl…she doesn't want to go back home.”
Ivan stops eating, placing the burger back on his plate. “What the fuck are you trying to say? It doesn’t matter if she wants to go home—plus, why the fuck wouldn’t she want to go home? Everyone down there should want to get away from this place as fast as they can.”
Gabe shrugs, giving my brother a confused look. “She doesn't want to go home. Apparently, her parents were the ones who sold her to us. Considering the way she looked when she came in, I get the feeling she came from a bad situation.”
“Jesus.” I drop the burger on my plate, all but losing my appetite. I’ve heard and seen a lot of fucked up shit in my life, but this might be one of the most heinous things I’ve ever heard. Who sells their own daughter for fucking money? Judging by the look on my brother’s face, he is just as disgusted, but this isn’t even half as bad as some of the things they’ve done to women down here.
“Just…tell her we’ll give her enough money to start a new life somewhere else.”
“I already offered her something like that, but…I don’t know how to explain it.” Gabe seems just as frustrated as Ivan about this. “I don’t think…I mean, I don’t think she is equipped to be on her own.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ivan growls.
Gabe takes a deep breath, struggling to find the right words.
“Ivan—boss,” he corrects, “this girl is in bad shape. Physically…as well as mentally. When I ask her what I can do to help her, she tells me she wants to die.”
Ivan pushes off the table and gets up. I sigh, but follow his lead. I slip back into my dress shoes and button-up shirt, but I’m not putting that fucking jacket back on. Ivan doesn’t say shit to me about it either, thankfully.
We take the elevator down to the basement and exit into a long hallway.
When we pass the first door, I come to a sudden halt. It’s a big iron door with a food slot, like a prison door. Next to the door is a large window that allows me look into the cell that holds nothing but a dirty mattress.
The room, if you can even call it one, contains four white walls without windows, a cold concrete floor, and nothing else. My mind flickers to Violet and the thought of her being locked up in a place like this. It’s so absurd, it’s hard to imagine, but when I meet my brother’s gaze and see the look of guilt and shame one his face, I know it’s true.
I shake my head, trying to get the image of sweet, gentle Violet locked up in this hell hole out of my mind. We continue walking down the hallway, passing three more of those same cells, before Gabe stops in front of one. I clench my jaw, my gut tightening.
“She has been here for a week and hasn’t eaten anything. I’ve tried to bring her food from the canteen…even candy bars. She won’t eat.”
I look through the large window into the cell. It looks like all the other cells, the only difference is the small women curled up on the
mattress.
She’s turned away from us, a mop of dark brown hair cascading across the pillow tucked beneath her head. My eyes roam over her tiny form. A long, simple dress covers most of her body. Some of her back is exposed and what I find when I look at the creamy white skin makes me want to punch the concrete wall before me.
“Are those whip marks?” Ivan sounds as if he’s appalled.
“Yes, she was brought in with them. I’ve tried tending to the wounds, but she doesn’t want anyone to touch her.”
“Probably because someone beat the fuck out of her,” I say through clenched teeth. Both Gabe and Ivan’s eyes swing to mine as if they’re shocked to hear me say something. My heart pounds furiously. If her parents did this to her, I want to take a belt and beat the fuck out of them until they feel the same pain.
“The first few days, she just cried and screamed, begging me not to hurt her when I came into the cell…even though I told her I wasn’t going to. But now…she just lies there. Almost catatonic.”
“And she doesn’t want to leave?” Ivan asks once more.
“No,” Gabe answers with a shake of his head, his eyes moving back toward the cell. Ivan runs a hand through his hair, frustration riddling his features.
“Well, we can’t fucking leave her here. I promised Violet I would shut this shitshow down. There is no way I’m going to go back on my word to her.”
I stare straight ahead at the tiny body lying on the mattress. The raised black and blue marks on her back make the acid in my stomach rise into my throat. She needs someone to save her, to put all her broken pieces back together, and I wish I was a good enough man to do that.
Silence settles over us as we all look at her through the small window. The clearing of Ivan’s throat breaks the silence.
“Would you take her? Until we can get something figured out?” I blink, pulling my gaze away from her to my brother.
“Are you seriously asking me to take her home with me?” I’m surprised. I’m the least responsible person ever. I fight for a fucking living, I fuck everything with a vagina, and I’m pretty sure I’m addicted to Adderall. Giving me this woman—this girl—is probably worse than sending her wherever he planned to fucking send her.
Ivan gives me an impassive look. “Yeah, I’m fucking asking you. I guess I could tell you you’re taking her, but I’d rather you just fucking agree. It would make all of this easier.”
“I’m going to go…” Gabe takes a couple steps back, as if he knows he should get out of here before shit hits the fan. He’s smart to do so. I’m fuming mad that Ivan is talking to me like he fucking owns me, like I’m one of his fucking men.
“You might be able to boss these fuckers around, but you can’t boss me around,” I growl, clenching my hands into fists. I want to punch this asshole in the face. He doesn’t have the slightest clue of how bad of an idea this is.
Everything my hands touch turns to shit—everything. The last thing I need is some broken girl coming into my life. I’m not the fucking man to save her, or even help her. I’m the kind of bastard who will leave her worse off than she is right fucking now.
“Roman…” Ivan’s features soften, but frustration lights in his eyes. “I know you’ve got your own shit going on, but I don’t have room for her. I can’t have Violet stressed out during her pregnancy, and I don’t want to just send her somewhere. She’s going to be terrified and will most likely end up talking about this place. We paid the other girls off so they would keep quiet, but she obviously doesn’t care about cash. You’re the next best thing—hell, the only thing that can keep this from taking a turn for the worst…if that’s even fucking possible.”
I grind my molars in anger. Fucking Christ, I am not the man for this job, and I don’t know any other way to tell him other than to prove it to him, and the girl, she doesn’t fucking deserve that.
“You know I’m not capable of caring for someone else. I barely have my own shit together.”
“I know, but it won’t be forever. Just until I can figure out somewhere for her to go, maybe a woman’s shelter or something, but I need to make sure she’s not going to off herself as soon as we send her off. I can’t have this on my conscious—it’s already maxed out. I don’t know what else to do with her.” Ivan shrugs. Tension riddling his body. With all the new changes taking place here, he’s spending more time here than at home, and when he is not around Violet, he gets irritated.
I look back at the nameless girl in the cell. She needs someone—anyone—anyone but me. If I’m all she has, if I’m the only fucking thing that can help her right now, I guess I’ll have to be enough. With a nervous twist in my gut and a sheen of sweat on my hands, I nod my head.
“What’s that mean? Yes? No?” His eyes bore into mine.
“Yes, I’ll fucking do it,” I grit out, wishing I didn’t have to fucking admit it aloud. Ivan smiles, a real smile, each of his sparkly white teeth showing. Why the fuck is he so happy?
“Thank you, brother.” He clamps a hand on my shoulder, and I have half a mind to shrug it off. He shouldn’t be thanking me. He has no fucking idea what he just condemned this girl to. I’m an asshole on my best days, and a bastard, a crazy asshole, on my really, really bad days. If she’s afraid of Gabe, I can’t imagine how she’s going to feel when she sees me.
“Yeah, whatever, let’s get her up and out of here. I’m sure she’ll be just as excited to be hitched with me as I am with her.” I roll my eyes. I'm not prepared for what's to come—not even a little bit.
Ivan unlocks the cell and opens the heavy door. It creaks as it swings open, and I move my gaze to the woman on the mattress. She doesn’t even flinch as we enter the cell, and I'm stuck wondering how this is all going to go down.
What is she going to think when she sees me and Ivan? She’ll probably be scared out of her mind. Grown men fear us, so I imagine this tiny woman is going to lose her shit. I suppose it's only going to get worse when we tell her she’s going to be coming with me.
I see this going fucking marvelously.
Shaking my head, I squat down right next to her mattress. Anger rushes to the surface when I gaze at her marred skin up close. It’s mostly healed, the marks slowly fading and bruises turning yellow in some spots. I grind my teeth together, feeling the need to punch something. I don't deal with my anger well as it is, but this makes my blood boil. Fuck, I don’t even want to know what these looked like a few days ago. Moving my attention away from the marks on her back, I train my eyes to the back of her head.
“Hey.” I try to keep my voice low and calm.
When she doesn’t respond, I force myself to ask another question.
“Are you awake?” She doesn't move or say anything, though I’m pretty sure she isn’t sleeping judging by her shallow breathing. I swallow nervously, lifting my hand and placing it on her shoulder. My fingers brush against the exposed skin along her throat. Her skin is cold—colder than it should be. I pry on her shoulders to make her lie on her back. She doesn’t even struggle, her body complying with my movements.
I don’t really know what I expected to see when I rolled her over to face me. I just know it wasn’t what I found. Her eyes open and immediately look up into mine. She’s got a heart-shaped face, and her eyes are the color of the sky on a sunny day, framed by thick, dark lashes that accentuate their beauty. Her face is thin—too thin—but her delicate features are nothing but stunning. Her full lips are dry and cracked, and there are dark circles under her eyes, but I can still see how beautiful she is.
There’s an innocence to her, and it calls to me. It makes me want to be the man to save her, to protect her from all the bad in the world.
We stay this way for a long while, our eyes bleeding into each other, as if we’re forming a bond with nothing but a single look. I’m mesmerized, not only by her beauty, but also by what her eyes tell me. She is sad—so incredibly sad, lost, and broken.
She looks like a fallen angel…fallen because someone clipped her
wings.
I’ll be damned if I let someone put her in a fucking cage.
Chapter Two
Sophie
His hand is large and sits heavy on my shoulder, as if it belongs there.
There’s broken skin on his knuckles and cuts on his hands. My skin burns hot under his fingers, but I don’t make a move to pull away.
I want his hand there, and that alone confuses me. I should be scared…terrified even, and parts of me are. These men bought me like a slab of meat in the market and caged me in this cell like an animal. Surely they mean to hurt me, maybe even rape me…kill me? But that doesn’t explain why this man’s touch doesn’t scare me. Or why his eyes hold a kindness I feel they normally wouldn’t. He doesn’t look like the type of man who smiles or offers sympathy very easily, and that makes me wonder why he’s offering it to me.
“I’m going to take you somewhere. Somewhere safe.” His voice breaks the silence, and it sounds like water running through gravel. Without thought, I lower my gaze to his full lips and watch them move as he talks some more.
“I’ll take you with me. You can stay at my place until we get things figured out…is that okay with you?” he asks, as if I really have a choice in the matter. I blink and glance back up to his eyes.
I don’t know why I feel safe in his presence. It’s strange and surreal. I should be cowering in the corner, crying, begging and pleading for them to leave.
“Okay.” The word comes out raspy and broken. My throat is so dry, it hurts every time I swallow. I guess that’s my fault since I haven't been drinking much and refuse to eat anything brought to me.
His gray-blue eyes widen in surprise. He probably thought I would refuse or even struggle. He doesn't know I have no fight left in me. Maybe that's why I am oddly drawn to this man’s touch…why his presence gives me comfort when it should terrify me.