Chapter 33 #2
He yanked his hand back and I squeezed my legs shut. “You leave him alone,” I whispered. Anger flashed in his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “I’ll be yours, I swear. Just leave him out of this.”
Riyan stood and adjusted his shirt. “You’re already mine, Princess. And after your wedding, I’ll start putting my children inside you. Once I have a Pierson heir of my own and know the child is mine, you can start reproducing for Walton or whoever else wants a turn.”
My chest felt like claws were digging in, taking the breath from me. “You can’t do that.”
“No?” Riyan chuckled to himself as he leaned over the counter, checking his teeth in the mirror. “Walton won’t give a damn what happens as long as he’s allowed to see Hailey.”
“N-no.” My teeth started to chatter. “M-my f-f-father won’t l-let you do this.”
His head hung as he took another deep breath in. “That won’t be an issue for much longer, Princess.” He turned to lean back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “You see, your father is getting rather old.”
My father was in his mid 50’s and in perfect health. My lips popped open to tell him he was wrong, but Riyan’s tsk filled my throat with rage that made me want to scream instead. His head cocked to the side as a sly smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “You do remember our agreement, don’t you?”
“That wasn’t the agreement. My f-father was not—”
“You marry Walton. You give me all of your inheritance and stocks in the company. And in return, I won’t release what a dirty little slut you are. How much daddy’s little girl loves being fucked and filled by men at parties.”
“I never loved it!” I shouted, throwing the towel from my wet body so he could see the marks I already had from being back in his orbit. “You forced me to do those things.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Princess.” My eyes darted to the door. He laughed at that, too. “You can’t run from this. You made a deal.”
I glared at him. “Release the video, I don’t give a fuck. I won’t do this.” A weight lifted from my chest, my shoulders squaring. “You can’t control me anymore, Riyan. I’m done.”
I started walking toward the door but he stepped to the side, blocking my exit. “See, this is why your father should have never approved you moving to Georgia. He gave a bitch like you too much freedom and it went straight to your empty head.”
I shoved past him, but not two seconds later, his arms were around my waist and my body was flung across the room.
I coughed as I slammed into the hard flooring, one of my knees burning from skidding against it.
Before I could fight my way up and run for the door, he grabbed me by my hair and yanked me up.
Pain seared into my scalp and I screamed.
His breath was sticky over my ear. “I will have what you promised.” He shoved me forward onto a couch. As he prowled toward me, I inched back until I was met with the armrest. I shook my head, saying the word he never cared to hear from me as his body towered over mine.
His grip on my chin was unyielding. “Grant Brooks, aged 25, exonerated felon and tattoo artist. Born and raised in Blue Ridge, Georgia by his stripper mom and Kirk Whellon, another ex-felon.”
“Stop.” Tears rolled down my cheeks as I shook my head more.
“He has a sister, Tallulah Brooks. A real pretty thing, too, except for all those tattoos. Both changed their last names when they moved to Florida, both from different daddies. A gene pool with a name they didn’t even wanna keep and even less money than you earn in a minute.
” He released my chin with force, sending my head sideways.
“If you won’t give me what I want, I will take away everything you do want until you have nothing left. ”
I felt the fight leave my body once again.
It was as if that sudden burst of freedom and power I’d felt had nothing to take root in.
My chin wobbled as his words dug their claws into my heart.
“You’re still that pathetic girl who fawned over me from all those years ago, Princess.
But once you get it out of your head that someone else cares about you, that someone else can save you, you’ll be much better off. ”
With his body still over mine, I half expected him to take advantage of me right then and there. He preferred it when I was at my lowest, when he was done degrading my thoughts so he could do the same to my body. He liked it when I cried and screamed louder while he tied me up and raped me.
Maybe he saw all the fight leave me as he spoke. Maybe he saw the life drained from my face, leeching from every inch of me. He grunted as he got off me. “Get dressed or I’ll drag you out of here naked with tape over your mouth. No matter what you do, you will be marrying Walton tonight.”
A slamming door echoed from the large penthouse, and I got up on autopilot and went into his bedroom, fitting into the snug white dress. The fabric rubbed over my burns.
I didn’t wince.
The zipper pinched my skin along my side. I continued pulling it up, a warm trickle of red liquid going down the inside of the fabric.
The tears stopped flowing.
I put the heels on that had been left out and took one look in the mirror. My eyes were swollen, the short sleeves of the dress did nothing to hide the bruises forming on my wrists. There was a hollowness to my appearance.
The woman I’d been with Grant was gone.
Sophia Pierson was no one but a shell.
Slamming my eyes shut, I turned away from the reflection and left the room.