When I watched the live feed, he had of her, she seemed more broken than threatening. When I asked why she wasn't getting help, Julian pointed out that he had hired help for her. That a faculty would keep her in a tiny padded cell, pumped full of drugs, but that didn’t seem much different than what she was going through now.
I had yet to catch a glimpse of her off camera. He kept me far away from the room when others went in. She may have sounded like an enraged wild animal, but that's how everyone was treating her. Something had happened to make her this way. The person on the other side of the door was not my sister.
It irritated me to no end that everyone was right about her mental state, and that no one would answer any of my questions. Julian kept saying that, in four months’ time, everything would be revealed.
Sometimes, I wondered if he had been involved with Penny and was holding onto her like he did me. It wouldn’t be that far of a reach. Like half the female population, she’d had a crush on him too.
Sighing, I shifted my attention to the wall clock. I had to have dinner started in twenty minutes. Julian was adamant that I conform to the duty of Mistress and, above all else, a dutiful wife.
"If you ever run from me, I will make your life hell." Those were his exact words after he fucked me in every way possible the night before. He always said things of that nature, but he had been distracted by something the last week or so.
It angered me more than it should have. Maybe it was because he made me watch the sick shows he put on and forced me to accept that I was more like him than I wanted to believe.
Luca fucked a man in the ass with a Coke bottle for an hour, tinting the plastic red before slamming the beverage container so far up his rectum, blood spurted like a fountain. Then, he took a hammer to the back of the man's head.
By the time his crusade was finished, the man’s scalp was hanging over his ear.
Two days later, a man raped a woman with a homemade spiked dildo, destroying her from the inside out.
She wasn't conscious when he stuck his mouth between her legs and licked the blood from her mutilated pussy. None of this bothered me as it should have.
This told me there was something wrong with me. I craved the dark and depraved things that didn't have an ounce of humanity. I had a fucked up moral compass, and Julian encouraged it.
We fucked each other to the sounds of others’ pain. Our demons were always at the surface and reaching for the other. And that's what he used me for.
He used my body to exorcise his demons, and I hated him for it, but not as much as I hated myself for liking it. A woman was dying, and her screams were a symphony to him. He bent me over his desk, placing one hand on the back of my neck, pinning me down and pushing into a place that wasn't readily available to him.
He thrust into my ass, shredding the tender tissue with his engorged cock, making me bleed. I screamed in agonized pleasure, loving every ounce of the pain.
The harder he thrust, the tighter his hand grew around my neck. I struggled only for a minute; the pressure and fullness overwhelming.
"Don't fucking fight me; you like this. Take it." His words were cold, but I cherished them. He started fucking me harder, his balls slapping against the globes of my ass. An electric current swept through my body as I came, both physically and mentally, unable to hold myself up.
He leaned low, his cock still throbbing inside my ass. Forcing me to kiss him, he bit down on my lower lip until I tasted a familiar metallic flavor on my split flesh. When he finished and pulled away, streams of white sticky fluid leaked between my ass-cheeks, mixed with blood.
Every time he took me, he ruined me.
I knew he would be my last. I was too screwed up to ever be with a normal man.
I needed a savage, someone who could fuck me in a million different deranged ways.
When he held me afterward it wasn’t the same, and the fact that he was pulling away made me want to burn him alive.
He corrupted my soul and turned me into a monster, and then he decided that he didn't want me anymore. He’d taken away my family and my sanity. I saw it as a betrayal, a knife in my chest after everything he'd done. I didn't think it could get worse. I was so fucking wrong.
“You missed dinner.” The statement lazily rolled out of my mouth.
Julian lifted his tie over his head and tossed it onto the back of the chair.
“You sound upset by that.”
I glared. “And you don’t seem to care.”
He turned then, now undoing the buttons on his shirt. “So, you missed me?”
“I…”
“If you don’t miss me when I’m gone, why are you upset if I don’t show up?”
“Because you know I can’t cook, but I do it for you anyway. You disappear and leave me alone with Bailey, who I don’t like by the way. Or you send Belle. I don’t need a babysitter. I need…never mind.” I rolled onto my other side, dragging the comforter up to my chin.
He laughed under his breath, taking his time to finish getting undressed. The bed dipped beneath his weight when he finally slipped in.
I expected him to reach between my legs and tease me like he always did before replacing his fingers with his tongue.
He didn’t do either.
His arms came around me and I was pulled back into his solid chest. “I happen to think you’re an amazing cook.”
“Jules, what do you want?”
“I want to hold my wife like she needs me to.”
“I--.” There wasn’t a point in denying it. He was my safe space and my danger. No matter which zone we were in, he never failed to comfort me when I needed it the most.
“Why don’t we go away for a few days tomorrow night?” he suggested.
I immediately rolled back to my other side; eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Like where?”
“Away, just the two of us. Think of it as our overdo honeymoon.”
That last part wasn’t all that relevant. Getting away from this place for a few days, however, that sounded like a dream.
“What about Dahlia?”
He smirked. “I’m sure my family can manage the red rooms without my overbearing presence.”
I slid my face to the edge of my pillow, placing a hand on his bicep. “Are you being serious?”
His lips slightly turned down, but my question wasn’t illogical. I didn’t want to get my hopes up about this.
He skimmed a palm down my back, cupping my ass and pulling me closer. “I know I’ve been busy lately. It hasn’t been fair to you.”
Had he read my mind? Or was I that transparent? No debating, it was the latter. Julian knew me inside and out.
“I promise you, as soon as I get home tomorrow, we’ll go,” he added.
At that, I nodded, bringing my cheek to his chest. I put a lot of faith in those three words every time he said them, I promise you. It gave me something to look forward to, and thus far he’d never broken a promise he made me—as unorthodox and chaotic as our relationship was.
That had to mean something.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The day began the same as it usually did, minus me waking up feeling the lingering effects that came from us fucking the night before.
Julian left on some business-related errand like he had been doing for the past week, leaving me to my own devices. I had free reign over the entire Chateau Dahlia apart from the hall leading to the red rooms, and where Penny was being kept.
This was Julian’s way of trusting me; I only knew that because his brothers had gone with him and I didn’t exactly have a bodyguard. I had Bailey and occasionally Belle.
I continued my morning routine as I always did. Showering, getting dressed, and then eating a small breakfast outside the room my sister was in. She was quiet today, not muttering to herself or yelling.
Keeping her locked away like this was inhumane, regardless of her mental state. I needed to figure out a way to talk to Julian about it and get somewhere other than on my
back.
“I’ll be back after lunch,” I called softly through the door. There was no response, but I still had to try.
I wandered the property for the hundredth time, wishing the stables were full. At least then I could talk to the animals. There wasn't anything to do here. Movies and television weren’t appealing. The staff refused to speak to me for some reason, and I didn’t have a cellphone.
If Julian called the landline, that’s how we spoke.
I didn’t know the numbers that would permit to dial out, though, so I could never call him. Perhaps we needed to discuss that too.
When I got hungry again, I made my way back inside, not surprised to find Bailey standing near the large kitchen island. I eyed the small black bag in her hand, and the familiar set of car keys on the counter.
“What are you doing?”
“I was waiting for you.”
I cast her a sidelong glance, making my way to the fridge. “Why?”
“To help you.”
My hand fell away from the refrigerator’s handle. “Help--.”
“We don’t have time for this. You need to go before Belle shows up and ruins everything.”
“Why would you out of the blue decide to help me? And go where?”
She rushed around the island and thrust the small bag into my arms. “I’ve been helping you from the beginning, you just haven’t realized it yet.” Reaching behind her, she grabbed the keys off the island and pressed them into my hand.
I shook my head, immediately trying to give both items back. “I can’t leave. Not only do I not trust you, he has my sister locked away upstairs.”
"Jesus Christ, Morgana. I know you’re smarter than this. I told you the Penny you knew is gone. I was trying to tell you she's dead. She's been dead for over a year."
"No. I saw her. I heard her. You're wearing her necklace!"
She reached up and tore the heart pendant from her neck, placing it on top of the black bag she’d forced into my arms. “There’s too much you don’t know and that I can’t explain. There’s a DVD in the bag, watch it.”
Before I could reply the landline began to ring.
“Don’t answer it. Take the car out front and go. Watch the DVD.”
My mind reeled, too many reasons to stay conflicting with all the ones to run. The implication that my sister was dead refused to register in my brain. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?
She lifted her shirt, revealing various scars, ruined skin, and rigid flesh wounds that looked fresh. “How do you know I’m not?”
The landline began to ring again.
I snatched the keys from her and ran. If she was lying, at worst Julian would kill me if he caught me. If she was telling the truth, death wouldn’t matter. My world was already burning up around me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Riverview had fallen behind me almost three hours ago. I drove and drove until the gas light came on, stopping only at a rink dink gas station for a few necessities, and then again at a seedy roadside motel.
I couldn’t drive any further. My mind was slush; I paid for the room with a few of the bills Bailey had put inside the black bag, which felt like a bomb as I carried it with me to the room I was assigned.
Going inside, I ignored the outdated furniture and mildew-scented carpet, dumping the bag from the gas station onto the bed.
Overlooking all the items but one, I grabbed what I needed and made a beeline for the restroom.
When I returned to the room, I went straight for the DVD player. Placing the disc in the tray, I slid it back in, grabbed the filthy remote, and waited.
The room Penny was kept in appeared on the screen. My heart twisted when the time stamp appeared in the corner. This wasn’t recent—it wasn’t close to the one I saw last time, but the footage was the same.
Penny was crying, begging someone to let her out. Each one of her pleas tore at me a little more. She was covered in bruises, barely able to stand. It was fucking horrible. Penny was so sweet, so full of life. It crushed me to see this broken shell of who she once was.
Someone off camera said something; but their voice was so distorted I couldn’t understand what.
I watched on, hearing the sounds from the past few weeks all over again.
The actual footage had been altered to such a degree I never once questioned if Penny was truly in that room or not. Julian had used my mental incapacity against me.
I didn't understand how he had planned all this out, or why.
There was a wave on the screen, and then I was staring at a red room, a feeling of helplessness clawing at my chest as a man wearing on a mask, plastic overalls, and an odd kind of glove approached my sister. A baton was in his left hand.
She was naked, strapped down to a chair with her legs spread. With no preamble or warning, the man flipped the baton around and began to force it inside her pussy. He sodomized her with it, pumping it in and out, breaking her down piece by piece.
Her screams grew so high in volume, I scrambled for the remote, slamming my thumb down on the mute button.
I was hit with the overwhelming urge to call my mother. Diving across the lumpy bed, I snatched the old receiver from its base and dialed out. When my mother's voice came through the speaker, I broke down in tears.
"Morgana?" I heard her voice crack, not once considering how she'd felt since I went missing. I'd desperately wanted to run home to her, but Julian would no doubt search for me there, and I still wasn’t sure how she could be so unaware of where I was.
"Mom, I..." Something on the screen stopped me cold, nausea crashing into my stomach. I didn't want to believe that it was him on top of my sister. His disfigured hand came into view for just a second when he took the one glove off so he could undo his pants.
"Phillip, Morgana's on the phone. Mor—" I slammed the receiver down and rushed to the bathroom. The image of my father brutalizing my sister sinking into my brain as I lost everything in my stomach.
I fell back and hit the cabinet, gasping for air, feeling like someone had shoved cotton in my throat.
More questions assaulted my mind. Julian knew. He looked at me every day, and he was aware that my father was the sickest kind of monster.
I tugged on my hair until it hurt., curling up on the bathroom floor. I remained there in a zombie-like state until the motel phone rang, spurring me into slow, lucid action.
I needed to leave. If they traced the call or searched this number they’d know where I was.
I reached up to grip the basin, and the stick I’d bought fell off the counter onto the floor, mocking me with its little pink plus.
PART TWO
Chapter Twenty-Four
Psychopathic, egotistical, deranged.
I'd heard it all before.
It was disappointing that society hadn't come up with anything original for those of us that were a tad different. There wasn't anything wrong with me.
I didn't lack empathy. Right and wrong had been taught to me as a child by a loving, stable mother.
I didn't have a tragic past, my parents never abused me, and other children didn't bully me. If anything, I'd always lived a life of privilege. This all benefited me in the end. No one knew who I really was.
Even now, women were throwing fuck-me smiles in my direction, batting their lashes and intentionally walking in my direct line of vision. They had no idea that if I took them home, I’d turn them out before I ever put my hands on them.
Gareth Andreou, my father, chuckled beneath his breath, witnessing all of it, proud that his eldest son was following in his footsteps, probably reminding him of his youth.
At least one of us was finding enjoyment in this. I was itching to do anything but sweat my ass off at a banquet luncheon I didn't give a damn about, but appearances must always be held.
"To the left, by the watermelon." Gareth directed my attention to a woman with dark red hair.
She was a solid seven in the looks department. Yes, I rated my wome
n on a point system. How terrible of me. I'd already met her at least four times, but my father still felt the need to point her out every chance she got.
Penny Sanchez was meant to be a pawn in what was a long-time coming plan of action. I wasn’t overly impressed with her attitude or intelligence, but I'd fucked a few fours, so this wasn't the end of the world. If all else failed, her mouth would suffice.
But I was in no hurry to seduce her, either. That wouldn’t take too much time no matter when I made the move. It was quite fascinating how quickly a disarming smile, a few soft murmurs, and a flash of my pearly whites got women down on their knees, panting for me.
"Julian, Gareth." Penny's father, Phillip, approached us with a half-smile on his face.
"Phil." I greeted, my eyes shifting to the girl at his side.
"Morgana," my father all but purred, leaning in and kissing her cheek.
I had only seen her a few times, but we’d never spoken much. I wasn’t entirely sure she would remember me.
"Mr. Andreou," she greeted my father, giving him a tight-lipped smile. Then, her head was turning towards me. Her chin slightly tilted up so she could look into my eyes. Her smile faded altogether, and I knew she saw me.
Right then, I everything changed. I began stripping Penny out of all our plans. Fuck her, she didn't excite me in the slightest. With one look, I knew Morgana was a different kind of woman. She was the perfect mess of beauty and chaos. I saw her demons I saw her darkness. It was all in her eyes.
This woman would be my salvation, and one day, she would be my downfall.
Chapter Twenty-Five
PRESENT
She hung upside down from her feet, the meat hook was just high enough that her head wasn't touching the concrete floor.
I stood back and admired my work.
Her pale breasts were black and blue. Four of her teeth lay on the dirty, bloodstained floor. Her neck had multiple sets of handprints on it from the eight men I’d allowed to fuck her in every way possible.
Malice (Dahlia Saga Book 1) Page 9
