Envy (Prey #6)

Chapter 1

The voices never stop.

The whispers. The lies.

Conversations float around the room as I sit here like I’m nothing. Because to them, I am nothing. I’m something you buy. To use. To discard.

I was bought and paid for because no one wanted me. They still don’t. They never will. Especially the one who owns me.

John.

He doesn’t see me as human. To him, I’m his sick fetish in the flesh––the kind of men like him try to hide, but always fail. Because secrets always come to light.

“She needs to go, John,” David, his lawyer says, pacing the room.

“You can’t have her go anywhere else,” Mary says. Her ice-blue gaze burning into me like acid.

Mary.

If there is one person in this world who would love to see me gone or dead, it would be her. When she married John, she learned the truth. That her husband’s interest in her was never real. That she was nothing but a public mask to cover his depravity.

And that I exist.

At first, I thought she would help me. Free me.

But instead, she hates me. More than anything.

She never lets me forget how much. Sometimes, I wish she would end it and be done with me. It would be better than what John does behind closed doors. It would be better than the pain.

I tried before.

Cutting. Hanging. Even stepping out of a moving car.

Each attempt––stolen from me.

John made sure I didn’t succeed. And each time I fail, he makes sure he makes me pay in ways no human should inflict on another.

After a while, hope seems like something I should have abandoned a long time ago.

Suicide was the only answer plaguing my mind ever since John appeared in my life: How could I end it? What would be the quickest way I could die so it could all go away? For the voices to stop.

The desire to kill oneself is not as hard as some people think—not when you don’t have a choice. It’s not what I really want, but it’s the only thing I can think about when I want the pain to stop. Wanting to die is a choice for some because there isn’t a better option when living is too painful. For others, it’s an imbalance in their brain for which they don’t have a cure. But not for me. For me, it’s freedom from this invisible cage.

“I know,” John says, exhaling through his nose. “She will also get the care she needs there, but…”

“You don’t want her running off with someone or getting any ideas if she goes to Ohio State, do you?” Mary tilts her head, voice dripping with concern like she gives a shit.

John presses his lips together.

“If she doesn’t go,” Mary continues, “people will start asking questions. The board members are not asking. The media isn’t helping.” She sighs. “We gave a statement. We said we adopted her internationally. It’s what they wanted to hear.”

I remain still.

Mary keeps rattling off excuses and lies. I’m trying to understand what they want to do with me. Where will they hide me next?

“Kenyan University will not accept homeschooled students,” Mary says, “because she doesn’t have any record of academic achievements. She doesn’t qualify for a scholarship anywhere else. She doesn’t have the test scores or the grades.”

“But she won’t be like the others,” John retorts, leaning back on his wooden office desk and staring straight at me.

I can still taste the tang from the maple syrup on my tongue from this morning, making me want to vomit all over his designer shoes.

“She’ll have to stay in a dorm when she starts her freshman year. She doesn’t have lineage,” Davids says like a warning. “John?” David voice cuts through the room, hesitant.

John’s gaze darts to his lawyer.

David’s gaze dips to my legs waiting for him to respond.

My fingers itch to pull the hem of my dress down my thighs like a rash needing to be scratched, but I know better.

I don’t move.

I don’t react.

I stare straight ahead, wishing I wasn’t in the room. To them, my voice, my thoughts, or feelings don’t matter. To John, it’s my body that holds value. It’s what I wear. How I move. How I obey.

“David, are you sure Rose can go through with what we discussed?” John asks, his voice oddly light.

David’s cold stare locks onto me. The massage clear. I don’t have a fucking choice. “She will.”

“Look, I know how you feel about Rose going to Kenyan Prep High School as a senior, but it’s the only way she can get into Kenyan University without raising questions and to comply with what the board wants,” Mary says. “She will be in good hands,”

My stomach twists. But I don’t know if I’m being sent somewhere worse. For the first time, I might be finally leaving this house.

“There is one subject we haven’t covered,” David says.

My ears perk up.

“And what is that, David?” Mary asks, sounding bored.

David’s gaze flicks to me. Then to John. Then, finally, to Mary. “Your son.”

John’s expression hardens, filled with warning—a warning I don’t understand because I’ve never met Mary’s son.

I’ve heard snippets here and there. I’ve only heard his name a couple of times. Apparently, he’s trouble. The bad kind. The kind that pisses people with money off.

Mary was a widow before she married John and has an older son, whom he is not quite fond of.

Garret.

Mary slowly crosses the room. She bends down until she is eye level with me. “That won’t be an issue, gentlemen,” she says, her tone full of hatred slicing through me.

I know not to speak. Not until John says I can. Mary knows this. Garret doesn’t know I exist, but obviously, when I arrive at Kenyan, he will.

She lets the silence stretch before she leans in, her perfume filling my lungs like poison. “My son Garret is off-limits to you,” she whispers. Her fingers tighten around my wrist. “If you so much as touch my son, I will have you raped and beaten.”

John steps forward once she pulls away. “If you so much as allow another man to touch you, I will bring you back here myself.” His breath is hot against my skin. I go still. My stomach turns. The sound of his zipper causes my lungs to seize.

I close my eyes. Then softly––loud enough for him to hear––I whisper the only words I’m allowed. “Yes, master.”

“Good girl.” He undoes his belt, the brass buckle clanking like a bell. “Mary, you can watch or you can leave. The choice is yours.”

Her heels thud on the wood floor. Her Chanel No. 5 perfume wafts away like a breeze, replaced by the scent of leather and sandalwood—two scents I hate, splitting my stomach in half.

The sound of the door swinging open makes my heart thud rapidly as she leaves. “Make sure she understands, John. It’s bad enough I’ve had to deal with her filth in my house.” The door slams shut with a thud.

“Open your eyes, Rose,” John demands. My eyes open, and they focus on his hand fisting his cock, the tip inches from my nose making me gag.

David watches every second, his arms crossed and his cock tenting his black slacks. Pig. All of them.

“Open for me,” John demands.

“Yes, master,” I whisper reluctantly.

“You won’t need another man when your mouth is full of me.” He grips my hair savagely, tilting my head back, and shoves his cock into my mouth to the back of my throat, eliciting a choking sound. I try to suppress my gag reflex, trying to blank out the stinging pain.

My eyes roll back in my head as my lungs fight for air. Pain smothers my shame as I refuse to let him see my tears, but they slide down my cheeks anyway.

“That’s it,” he says, thrusting in my mouth. “That’s my girl. Take it. You were born to serve me and only me. Touch another man, and I’ll fuck your bleeding corpse.”

I’m choking, but he doesn’t care. The inside of my throat is on fire. My skull throbs in pain while his nails dig into my scalp. He won’t stop until I pass out or he comes.

There are times I’ve woken up naked on the floor, and he’s fucking me. There is no question he is good on his threats. John is evil—a pedophile of the worst kind. Sick and twisted and this time won’t be different.