Chapter 5 Lila
Lila
I've been staring down at my plate of untouched food as I sit at the dinner table, just like I did last night. Thankfully, Kyle is nowhere in sight, but the tension is still stifling. Marcus sits at the other end of the table now, with my dad in the head seat as always.
I'm clutching the stem of my wine glass—the only thing I've bothered to consume since I sat down—and the pressure is building up inside me so much that I can't stand it anymore. I have to say something.
"Tell me that it's not true. Tell me that Cilento isn't blackmailing you because you lied about Bellavita."
When I look up from my plate, Father's eyes are as wide as saucers. He's completely blown away by what I just said. I have absolutely no regrets for doing so, however.
Marcus, on the other hand, looks less than pleased with me. He's clearly pissed, and a part of me feels bad for putting him in this position.
He's sitting right there at the other end of the table, and I know he feels like he's been thrust in the middle of a fight. He's not wrong.
My father and I are probably going to have it out, and he's going to have ringside seats.
"Lila. How could you assume such a thing? I don't know where on earth you got this information, but I can assure you that it isn't reliable."
The squeak of Marcus's chair from the other end of the table seems so loud now that no one is speaking. I know my father is lying to me. I know that he was caught red-handed, saying exactly what I know to be the truth, by the man sitting at the other end of the table.
The man who just so happens to be the first person I've ever let touch me.
My skin is still humming, begging for Marcus's fingers to caress me again, to touch me and tease me and make me spill over with all that incredible pleasure I've never experienced before.
"Don't lie to me. I'm not an idiot, despite what you and Kyle might think. I know exactly what is going on in this house. I knew something was going on even before now. You need to be honest with me, but more than that, you need to be honest with the people you're putting in jeopardy."
The expression my father wears now is one I've seen enough times. He's all stuffy and upset, his nose scrunched up like he's smelling something awful.
But the truth is, the only awful thing around here is my father. He has abused the trust of the people who look to him for healthcare and wellness products of all kinds.
Even as a child, I never thought my father was an exceptionally kind or benevolent man. Since Mother's never really been there for me, I've always had to fight it out with him on my own.
Hell, she's not even here. She's off again on some island, tanning and hanging out with pool boys as per usual. Her life is an endless dream of ways to get away from my father—whether that be physically, through her prescription pills, or drowning her sorrows with a bottle of vodka.
A part of me feels bad for her, sorry that she ended up with a husband who so clearly doesn't think highly of her. But I also wonder how she got into this situation.
Perhaps that's what's always scared me the most. Could I end up like her? Did she get where she is because of a father just like mine?
Are we repeating generational trauma that I'm doomed to put forth if I stay in this family?
"You don't have a full grasp on the situation, Lila. There is far more going on behind the scenes of all of this than you could possibly comprehend. I can't just come clean about something that may or may not be true about our products."
"No, what you can't seem to come clean about is that you fucked up. You put yourself in this situation, and you hurt me, too. Because of your relentless devotion to the company and not your own daughter, there is a man who is hunting me down, who is sending people to hurt me."
Lifting my wine glass as my fingers start to tremble, I take a long sip before setting it back down on the table. My appetite is entirely gone.
I also can't help but notice that Marcus has been a little quiet. When I look up at him, though, sympathy and anger are burning behind his eyes.
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose as I watch him mirror the large gulp of wine that I took. When he sets his glass down, he looks toward my father as if expecting him to do something. Anything.
"I am well aware of the type of man that Cilento is.
I am familiar with his business and the type of people he works with and for.
If you are involved with him, you have likely contracted him for exactly what Lila is suggesting.
For the short time that I've known her, she has never once lied to me.
If she's coming to you about this now, I suggest that you tell the truth.
If nothing else, to protect your daughter. "
My heart is pounding so hard against my ribs, I'm pretty sure it's going to crack one. My father looks utterly stunned. And what I wouldn't give to storm up to him and slap that expression off his face.
He had to know something like this was coming. Can't keep the truth hidden forever.
His fork clatters against his plate as my father sets it down. He reaches into his lap for his napkin and dabs at his mouth politely. So poised, so still.
When he meets my eyes again, they are cold and stern. Nothing new, but the lack of emotion still hits as hard as ever.
"I may have gone to great lengths to ensure the success of Wellward, but that is because this company is everything.
I built it from the small company that it was when my father owned it to what it is today.
The life you lead now is thanks entirely to the success of my company.
It would be disastrous to admit to any supposed contamination.
It would not protect you. It would deplete the company's assets and leave you with nothing to live on.
So for once, you're going to listen to me, Lila.
And you're going to drop this here and now. "
I don't know why I'm surprised. I don't know why it still hits me so hard that my father is unwilling to do the right thing.
He's never going to reveal the truth. He's never going to go public with the information about the drug and how it is unsafe.
It is abundantly clear that all my father cares about is his company.
Not me.
My eyes burn as the tears threaten to spill over, and I will not cry in front of him. I can't be here for this. I can't be around that man a moment longer.
Shoving out of my chair as hard as I can, the table rattles, my wine tipping over and staining the white tablecloth.
I don't care. I don't care that these beautiful, expensive things have been ruined.
I don't care that the money my father makes could come to a crashing halt if he were to come clean about what he did.
I wanted a father. Not some business mogul who will go into bed with the mob and risk his daughter's life.
I tear from the room as fast as I can and head straight to my bedroom. Betrayal stings in my throat as the lack of food churns in my belly. And as I round the corner in the hallway, the tears finally break free.
There is nothing he won't do for his company. And there is nothing he will do for me.
Flinging myself onto my bed, I allow myself to sob until my chest aches. I didn't bother closing the door behind me, and I hear Marcus's footsteps as he approaches, closing the door behind him.
As the bolt clicks into place, Marcus locks it, and I bury my face deeper into the covers.
They smell like us.
My brain scrambles, unsure whether to feel embarrassed, continue to feel utterly betrayed, or focus on how good Marcus was able to make me feel, even for a short period of time.
Something tells me that the betrayal is nowhere near dying down. I'm going to be carrying the sting of that for the rest of my life.
But I also know that this feeling I have toward Marcus isn't dying down either.
Everything inside me calls to him, wanting to push his buttons so that he'll snap and bend me over his knee.
Being a virgin doesn't mean I've never seen porn. And I have a very particular type that I enjoy.
My mind has been filled with images of what that man might do to me, like in those videos, since the moment I saw him. Marcus is large and imposing and bossy and a grump and everything this dark, bratty side of myself has been hungry for.
"I'm sorry about that, Lila. Your father had no right to say what he did. It's clear he's putting the company's assets and success ahead of your safety."
Hearing the words out loud and how they confirm everything swirling inside me doesn't make me feel better. It does make me feel seen, though.
Pulling myself up from the bed, I turn around and look at Marcus. I'm sure I look fucking ridiculous. Mascara running. My eyes puffy. And because I'm an idiot, I wore something to tease him again.
I didn't know that I would be confronting my father when I got dressed. Otherwise, I wouldn't have put this on.
The white button-down shirt I'm wearing is long-sleeved, but I've unbuttoned the first three buttons, leaving my cleavage very exposed. I'm not especially endowed, but it gets the job done.
Especially when you pair it with the fluttery black skirt I'm wearing. It's something right out of a school uniform, and I know that it barely covers my ass.
I fully intended to be something tantalizing that Marcus had a hard time resisting. Because watching him sweat and get hot under the collar turned me on more than I thought possible.
Wiping my face, I meet Marcus's stare, rolling my eyes a bit.
"It's hardly surprising. I think we both knew that. That's exactly the kind of thing my father would say. He's been pretty clear on what takes priority around here."
"Well, that doesn't change my job. I have one responsibility around here, and that's to keep you safe. So I think you're going to listen to me this time. No sneaking out through the patio. No running off outside. If your father won't come clean, we're going to have to deal with this the hard way."
I don't know what it is about being told what to do, especially from Marcus, but I don't like it. Well, maybe that's the wrong term.
It provokes me. It challenges me. And my first reaction is to throw everything back in his face, offer that sass he's so fond of accusing me of.
He's not wrong, either. I know I'm being a brat. I just can't help it. He brings it out in me. I do everything I'm told, all day, every day. But when it comes to Marcus, I want to be naughty. I want him to make me.
Sitting up straighter, I eye him hard. "I can do what I want. If you want to keep me in this bed, you're gonna have to find a damn good reason for me to stay."
I cock a brow at him. Marcus's nostrils flare as he stares at me, and I can see the tension ringing through his body. He squeezes his hands into fists, taking a few steps forward.
I watch the muscles in his jaw work as he clenches it. My body grows hotter and hotter, my pussy clamping down around nothing.
"You know, princess," he takes a few more steps toward me, his eyes dark and menacing, "I think it's about time someone taught you a lesson."
Immediately, my body hums with anticipation. I want to feel him all over me again. I want him to take control, to take what he wants from me.
But I don't move because I want him to earn it too.
"I'd like to see you try."
With that undeniable speed and strength, Marcus surges for me. It is unquestionably impressive. He reaches me in a flash, grabbing me by the legs and hauling me down the bed.
"Hey! What are you doing?" To say I'm surprised by the fact that Marcus is hauling me over his lap and pulling my skirt up is an understatement. "Oh my God! Let go of me! Put me down or I'll—"
A hard smack comes down on my ass cheek, and my words die in my mouth. Heat warms the skin as it stings. If I could see myself in a mirror, I know my eyes would be flared so damn wide.
Marcus just spanked me.
And I fucking loved it.
"Don't have so much to say when you're taking your punishment, do you?" Marcus rubs the warm skin of my ass right where he smacked me. "Is that what the princess needed? A good spanking so that she'd listen?"
Squirming in his hold, I realize that I have no desire to get free. Marcus kneads his fingers into my skin, and I can feel the anticipation building. My heart is fluttering harder, my breath coming short.
I want to feel that sting again. To have him make me feel this way. So alive and free. And feisty.
And naughty.
"So what, you're just going to bend me over your knee like this? You think I can't handle a little spanking? You're the one who seems to not be able to keep his hands off me."
Marcus's long fingers wrap around my neck, squeezing just enough. His hand is so big and strong, and I can't help but remember how his fingers were buried inside me.
"I can't." The confession hits me right in the chest, and I go still. "And I won't. I'm going to leave my handprints all over your ass. And you're going to promise to be mine. Not Reginald's. Not Kyle's. Mine. Say it, princess. Tell me who you belong to."
Another firm smack comes down on my ass, and I yelp from the surprise, but it quickly melts into a moan as I give myself over to the sensations, to the way Marcus takes control and allows my mind to go quiet.
I need this. God, do I. And I want it so badly that I'm dripping.
One more slap, and then his hand is rubbing across my skin in gentle circles, working lower until he teases me over the fabric of my panties, which I know are soaked.
"I'm waiting, princess. Say my name. Tell me you're mine."
"I—" But Marcus glides his fingers across my seam, working my pussy through my underwear.
His fingers are so sure, his touch so pinpoint, and even though he's not really touching it, my clit hums as an orgasm rushes forward.
It's incredible, overwhelming, and I find myself nodding, willing to do anything this intoxicating man says.
Or to at least give it a solid try before I want to be a brat again.
"Yes!" I cry out. "I'm yours, Marcus! Please!" He rubs harder, and my eyes flutter closed as I push back against his fingers, whimpering. "I'm so close."
"That's my girl. So fucking good for me." His touch is fire, and I'm scorching beneath it, my pussy clamping as he squeezes my throat so perfectly. "Come for me. Now."
And I do.
I fall apart in Marcus's lap, reduced to a puddle of myself, and I don't even care. Whatever is burning between the two of us, I want to fan the flames.
Damn the consequences.