Tears of Revenge

One

“Why did you have to act like such a bitch?”

Because I know you’re fucking her behind my back, Avalon thought to herself.

“Why can’t you just do as you’re told?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

She didn’t mean it—she never did. Though she’d learned early on that it was easier to give him what he wanted. Troy wasn’t the kind of man who accepted no for an answer. In the beginning, she’d liked that about him. He’d wooed her until she gave into him and slowly that wooing had become conditional. By the time she’d come to her senses, it was too late—she was already too dependent on him.

“I expect better next time.”

He slammed the truck into park and stomped out. As expected of her, she waited for him to open her door. It used to be a small gesture she appreciated. Now, it was simply another way for him to control her, reminding her yet again of the independence she’d lost.

It was only seconds before he opened her door, but it felt like hours. “I’ll just stay back next time.”

“No, you’ll come with me and apologise to her for your attitude.”

“Will that make you stop sleeping with—”

Avalon swallowed her last word, his hands gripping tight around her throat. She grunted as her head hit the truck door. He squeezed, bringing tears to her eyes.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Ava,” he snarled. “You know she gives us a discount on the wine. Do you think she does that for free?”

“I’m your accountant,” Avalon wheezed. “I know we don’t need the discount. We’re doing good.”

A sharp pain shot through her cheek, his hand leaving a sting behind—and the taste of blood. “ I am doing good. Who does the club belong to?”

“You,” she gasped, his grip getting even tighter.

“Me,” he repeated. “Now fix your face—and your attitude—before you come inside.”

He dropped her, turned on his heel, and stomped towards the back entrance of the Midnight Manor.

When they’d met, Avalon had been curious about the dark, broody gentleman who owned that nightclub. It wasn’t long before he showed his true colours. The main business was the club itself—or so everyone thought. The real profit came from the private rooms in the back of the building. Some were rented out to parties to keep the fa?ade, but the others were rented out to rich men who wanted to fuck willing, hot women.

She closed her eyes, the tears beginning to fall as she rubbed at her sore throat. The one thing she truly wanted to do was run; run far, far away from that place as fast as she could—but she had nowhere to go, no money of her own. After losing her job, Troy had taken her on as his accountant. Everything had gone well—at first. They moved in together and opened a joint bank account because that’s what couples did, right?

But that only made her completely dependent on him, and that’s when he dropped his mask. Every day there was something new that would now be under his control. She’d trusted him and now she was paying for it.

“Ever thought about killing him?”

The sudden voice startled her. Avalon spun, eyes landing on a man standing in the shadows next to the back door. He was tall with long, dark hair that framed sharp cheekbones and jawline. His clothes looked expensive, from the kind of stores that made her wallet bleed just thinking about it.

“W-what?” she stuttered.

Faster than she could blink, the man now stood in front of her. Dark blue eyes seemed to bore a hole through her. She searched her surroundings, trying to make sense of what was happening. He’d moved so fast it was like she’d lost a few seconds of time. “How did—”

Sleek fingers laid over where she still gripped her throat. The man then leaned in, lips curling into a sinister grin. “Some people don’t deserve to live.”

Her jaw dropped; he was dead serious. The thing that scared her the most wasn’t that he’d offered to kill Troy—but that she was considering it.

His grin widened into a full smile, those eyes fixed on hers. “Let’s see if he can redeem himself.”

His hand slid over to her shoulder, gliding down her arm and eliciting a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Only then did she realise how cold he was. When he reached her wrist, he wrapped his long fingers around it and tugged her towards the back door.

Her feet moved, though her brain wasn’t sure it was a good idea. This man had just threatened Troy’s life and yet, she followed him right to him. She was almost in a trance, but deep down she wondered if something would snap her out of it—if she even wanted to be snapped out of it .

The man held the door open for her to step in before he slipped past her. He walked down the hallway, passing Troy’s office, the dressing room, and the storage closet there before pausing by a private room.

Her heart pounded. She’d only ever been in those rooms with Troy—when he’d forced her to dance for him. It hadn’t been a great experience. In fact, it made her cringe to this day. But the strange man simply opened the door and guided her over the threshold by a gentle hand on the small of her back.

With sweaty palms and a knot forming in her stomach, she stepped inside. Then she froze. A second, equally mysterious man eyed her over the shoulder of the woman in his lap. He had a broad build and striking green eyes, his hair a rich, rusty brown. His skin was just as pale as that of the first man, as if they despised the sunlight. Corinna turned her head and fused her eyebrows, upset at Ava interrupting her session.

The man behind her was the first to speak. “Go get your boss.”

Corinna’s eyes flickered over Ava’s shoulder, but she didn’t move.

“I don’t like repeating myself.” Avalon shuddered, the air turning bitter. Corinna shot to her feet and bolted from the room.

Still eyeing her curiously, the man on the couch asked, “Who have we got here?”

“Sit and tell us your name.”

“Ava,” she said, voice quivering and her body frozen in place.

“Sit,” the man with the blue eyes urged.

“I don’t know your names.”

“Marcus,” the redhead introduced himself.

“Varos,” said the dark-haired one. “Now please sit before he comes in.”

She worried her bottom lip, but cautiously approached the couch. Marcus patted the leather seat next to him, his face soft and his expression reminding her of a kid on Christmas morning .

Troy entered the room just as her ass kissed the seat. As usual when around clients he had a thick aura of masculinity pouring off him in waves. “Varos, how may I help you?”

“I believe this one belongs to you?” Varos indicated Avalon.

Troy’s eyes flickered. The drop in his mask went unnoticed by the other two men—but not Ava. “Yes. What has she done?”

“We want her.”

“You want her?”

Varos reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. “Yes.”

Troy’s eyes widened greedily at the sight of money and quickly flashed her a look that she knew far too well. Keep your mouth shut. “She’s yours.”

“Limit?” Varos asked, handing over the cash.

She couldn’t believe what was taking place right in front of her. Troy was selling her like some whore, without consent. She was nothing more but a business deal to him.

“That depends.”

Varos handed him another stack. “We can get quite rough.”

“She’ll play along,” Troy agreed without another thought.

Her vision blurred and though she desperately tried to keep them at bay, tears poured down her cheeks. Troy was selling her off, knowing she might get hurt. He took the money without so much as looking at her. She flinched as Marcus leaned closer, his lips only a breath away from her ear.

“No harm will come to you,” he whispered, sending goosebumps washing over her neck.

Troy was about to turn on his heels when Varos’s hand snapped tight around his throat. “I did not say you could leave.”

Troy’s eyes widened, hands scrabbling at the fingers around his neck.

“Kneel,” Varos commanded, throwing Troy to the floor with minimal effort.

“Oh, this will be fun,” Marcus practically squealed, clapping his hands like a little schoolboy. Those green eyes sparkled as they rested on Troy’s quivering form.

Troy attempted to stand, only for Varos to shove him down on all fours. His movements were seamless and elegant, as if dealing with Troy was beneath him. “Crawl to her,” he commanded.

“W-what?” Troy stammered trying to fight Varos’s grip.

Varos growled. “Crawl. To. Her.”

“Fuck, no.”

Varos’s eyes darkened, and that bone-chilling smile curled his lips again. “Wrong answer.”

Troy flew through the air, crashing into the wall. His eyes rolled back and he hit the floor. Ava twitched, itching to run to him, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Don’t waste your energy on him,” Marcus chuckled.

Helpless, Ava watched Varos stride across the room. His face unchanged and his eyes on Troy, he crouched down before the unconscious body and tilted his head.

“Now, before all the fun starts, can I know why of all the thousands of days we’ve spent together you chose violence today?” Marcus asked, walking over to the other man and positioning himself behind him.

“It felt right.”

“What did he do to deserve it?” Marcus then turned his attention to Ava. “Let me guess, he hurt you.”

She couldn’t answer, her gaze darting between the two men. They talked so casually, as if they were discussing the weather. Her heart pounded, her mind still trying to catch up to the events.

“Ava, what binds you to him?” Varos asked. His back was still turned to her, but his voice was so gentle it felt as if he was wrapping her in a warm blanket.

“I like that name,” Marcus interrupted. “But do tell, is that your real name? Or just something he gave you? ”

“A-Avalon,” she coaxed, her throat dry, everything she knew about the English language seeming to abandon her.

“What a beautiful name indeed.”

“Why haven’t you left him?” Varos repeated though his tone was still gentle.

“I…. He controls everything,” she stammered.

“Has he taken you as his wife?”

“I don’t see a ring, Varos.”

“You and I both know that means nothing nowadays,” Varos countered.

“True.” Marcus shrugged his shoulders and returned to his seat.

“No, he hasn’t,” she responded.

“But you live together?” Varos pressed.

“Yes.”

“And you work for him, which means you don’t have access to money without his permission.”

Her cheeks suddenly felt hot, shame washing through her as she heard her reality spoken out loud. It hurt to hear the truth. “I’m not stupid,” she said in an attempt to defend herself.

In a flash, Varos appeared in front of her. He gently cupped her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek and his cool skin soothing the heat of her cheeks. “No one believes you’re stupid. You are strong for surviving so long but surviving isn’t living, Avalon.”

“I didn’t see it,” she confessed, tears flowing once more.

“You weren’t supposed to. He chose to hide that part of him from you and no matter how much you may have tried, he’s too good at it.”

“He was sweet.”

“And some days he still is, but you’re nothing but a pawn in his game.”

“I loved him.”

“And you are lying to yourself if you say you don’t still love him. But he’s not the man you deserve, he can’t give you the life that was intended for you.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but Troy stirred on the floor. His confused eyes flickered through the room, widening when they fell on Varos. It was awful yet terrifyingly satisfying to see Troy so out of it. He made to stand, but Marcus appeared in front of him.

“I’ve heard nasty things about you.” Marcus grinned down at Troy, his arm blurring as he wrapped his hand around Troy’s throat. “And soon you’ll find out what I do to nasty people.”

Just like Troy had done to her, Marcus’s hand closed tightly around Troy’s airways. Though while she hadn’t, Troy attempted to fight. He punched, scratched, and kicked around, his eyes clouding and teeth bared in a silent scream.

Ava watched somewhat pleased as Troy slowly lost consciousness—just as she had so many times.

“Avalon.” Her name hummed from Varos’s lips like the sweetest melody.

She forced herself to look at Varos.

“You will take the money he just sold you for, go home, and pack your belongings. You’re going to leave this town and never look back.”

“He’ll find me,” she whispered, her mind already working out exactly how he would and what he would do to her.

Marcus schooled his expression, rising to his feet and approaching her. “You won’t leave clues for him to follow.” Stopping next to Varos, he mirrored his companion in gripping her cheek. His hand was even cooler. “You will use the cash to buy a bus ticket and leave the city. You will leave everything he gave you behind: no phone, no laptop—nothing he could access to find you. You will find a job that will get you by until you find a home and a secure job that you enjoy.”

“You will start from scratch,” Varos continued, his voice warm and soft. “It will be hard, and it will drain you, but you won’t look back, because what lays ahead of you is worth more than any pain you have endured through him in the past. You can do this, Avalon. We believe in you.”