CHAPTER EIGHT
There was nothing quite like being forced to endure the company of the only friend you ever had while knowing your father's cock had been jammed down her throat hours ago. I never knew when she was in the house until they carried on loud enough everyone heard.
Coraline was exactly what he devoured. She was decorative and breakable, with just enough fight left in her to make the conquest worth his time despite how often he’d conquered it.
Summer still blazed in her skin's golden undertone, though winter lived in her eyes now. Her hair fell in purposeful disarray around her face, and her green-gold eyes caught the light like pawned jewelry.
I'd grown up watching her beauty transform from girlish to devastating to haunted. Now, beneath the careful makeup, a violent purple-black mark beneath her jaw betrayed what she'd become – prey wearing the collar of my father's ownership.
"Sel, you look good" she said, smiling.
I arranged my napkin across my lap without acknowledging her.
"We haven't really gotten to talk much,” she continued. "I've missed you. This distance between us, it wasn't what I wanted."
"Half a year."
"What?" Her brow furrowed, a practiced confusion.
I met her eyes, unflinching. "The affair with my father. One hundred and eighty-two nights of spreading your legs for him while I slept down the hall."
The color drained from her face before rushing back in a violent tide. "Selene, it wasn't—I never intended—."
"Never intended? Did you trip and fall onto his cock the first time? And the second? And every night for twenty-six weeks?"
Her fingers writhed in the white linen like grubby worms. "He said you knew. That you were fine with it."
I offered her the smile I'd practiced in mirrors. "Of course. Whatever Father wants, Father gets."
Tears gathered at her lashes, crystalline beads of weakness I wanted to flick away with my fingernails until she bled.
Each trembling drop fueled something savage in me—a dark, exquisite pleasure I hadn't known I was capable of feeling.
Let her drown in those tears. Let her choke on them.
The docile mask I wore for my father slipped away, revealing teeth.
She wasn't him. She held no power here. And God, how desperately I wanted someone to hurt the way I did.
But I couldn’t do any of that in theory because the man who had ultimate authority in this hell would somehow turn it around and make it my fault she was hurt for sleeping with him even as he paraded his ownership of her before me like a fresh wound, he couldn't stop reopening.
"Wipe your eyes and sit up straight. You've seen what happens when he catches someone crying."
Because she wasn’t safe from his wrath either.
She drew herself upright, smoothed invisible wrinkles from her dress, and then tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear, the same choreography I'd witnessed countless times at his approach.
Coraline's breath audibly caught, her gaze flicking toward the doorway as if already feeling the weight of his palm against her spine.
I remained motionless, features arranged in practiced serenity. Dutiful daughter on the outside, seething captive within. My father's entrances were never subtle. He swept in as though rooms existed solely to frame him. Coraline stood and greeted him with a smile.
"Beautiful as always," he murmured, pressing his lips to her cheek while his fingers splayed possessively across her lower back, lingering a moment too long.
Then he turned and came around the corner to me and repeated a near identical gesture. His mouth brushed my temple. "And my daughter, exquisite as ever."
I remained perfectly still. Any reaction would please him, but he collected flinches like trophies.
"You're late, Father."
He settled at the head of the table like a king assuming his throne. "The world adjusts to men like me, Selene. Not the other way around."
Coraline's laughter tinkled like a bell. If she were to choke right now, I wouldn’t offer a single pat on her back.
Now that my father had arrived, the kitchen staff appeared with our lunch.
They were likely sweating bullets trying to keep it as fresh and warm as possible, knowing they would be blamed for anything he found distasteful even though he was the one who made everyone wait.
Seabass was arranged like artwork, greens so pristine they might have been painted. I hated the taste of seafood, but I had no choice but to eat what was in front of me.
"Alaric couldn't take his eyes off you last night. Quite the impression you’ve made," he remarked, cutting into his fish.
"He was courteous."
"Courteous?" He laughed low. "Alaric Kostas is many things, courteous isn't one of them. Whatever you did worked. The engagement is certain. Be careful not to undo your progress."
Each bite of fish congealed to paste in my mouth. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, swallowing mechanically to keep from retching.
Father dabbed his napkin against his lips, his eyes calculating my worth like a jeweler assessing a diamond's flaws. "Alaric will want to see you again soon. Play hard to get. Men of his standing need to believe they've conquered something. Never appear willing."
“I understand,” I lied. I didn’t know the first damn thing about playing games with men and he knew that. Not to mention Alaric was not the kind of man you toyed with.
Beside him, Coraline's fingers grazed his sleeve with practiced familiarity. The casual intimacy of it, how effortlessly they maintained this charade of normalcy, was almost admirable in its perversity.
Minutes stretched into a small eternity.
When I couldn’t take it a second longer, I placed my fork beside my plate. "What role do you envision for me in this arrangement?"
It was a question solely to placate him.
I knew Alaric had his own ideas about this marriage, and they didn’t seem to be in-line with my fathers’.
Thank God. He took his time responding. Another bite.
Another chew. Another swallow. Only then did he meet my eyes with the condescending half-smile that made my skin crawl.
"Everything becomes intelligence. Your role is to remember every word he whispers when he thinks no one hears, and each conversation he allows you to sit on.
I want to know what makes him weak. How he sounds when he comes.
The moment his guard drops when he's buried inside you should be telling.
" His eyes dropped to my throat, to my mother's necklace, his gaze like a blade against my skin.
"When I need to replace you, I'll know exactly what kind of whore to break him with. "
Coraline froze beside him, a rabbit sensing a predator.
He lifted his glass, crystal catching light as he rotated his wrist in slow, deliberate circles, like a man considering where to cut first. "Men who want what's mine need to be controlled.
We'll discuss your specific duties after I'm certain he hasn't fucked every last thought out of that pretty head. "
He shifted toward Coraline, the hard edges of his mouth softening into something that resembled tenderness. "Take Coraline here. She's maintained her clarity despite everything. She understands discretion. She's mastered the art of captivating without surrendering her value."
Something cold and heavy settled in my gut. Coraline's gaze remained locked on the food before her.
"She could teach you a thing or two," he went on, eyes back on mine.
"I believe I've had sufficient instruction," I murmured.
A chuckle escaped him, satisfaction, not umbrage. "We'll see."
I wanted to stab the smile right off his face.
He finished before either of us, setting his utensils down and dabbing at his mouth, then he rose. When he smiled at me, his eyes remained as cold.
"I'll see you at dinner. Try to look a bit more rested, Selene. A tired woman isn't a desirable one."
He then seized Coraline's chin between his thumb and forefinger, the pressure whitening her skin as he tilted her head back.
His mouth claimed hers in another display of ownership, his tongue invading with dominance.
The wet sound of their kiss filled the room as my stomach clenched into a hard knot.
The metallic tang of seabass must have coated every corner of her mouth and his, now being swapped between their spit.
He vanished, leaving only the echo of his footsteps down the hall. The silence crashed in like a wave, drowning everything in its wake. I remained frozen, eyes fixed on my plate where the remainder of untouched fish had grown cold, and the lemon sauce had thickened into a pale crust.
It was my life in miniature. Arranged precisely, displayed beautifully, and abandoned to decay. Some days I wondered if madness might be a relief from this elegant prison. Most days, I suspected I'd crossed that threshold long ago.
I pushed my chair back and stood. The movement startled Coraline; she looked up like she’d forgotten I was still there. When I left the dining room, she followed. The echo of her heels chased mine up the grand staircase, the rhythm off-beat, anxious.
"Selene, wait—please."
I kept climbing.
"Just stop for a moment," she pleaded, her fingers catching my hem as I reached the landing. "We need to talk."
I pivoted slowly. Sunlight from the high windows sliced across her face, revealing too much and not enough. In that harsh illumination, she resembled everything I'd tried to bury, starved for real connection.
Unfortunately for her, I wouldn’t feed her a crumb if we were the last two people on earth.
“We have nothing to talk about. Nothing. Give it up already.”
She recoiled as though struck, white-knuckled against the banister. "You don’t have to be this way. I know you think I used you to get to him, but it wasn’t like that.”
“It was exactly like that,” I countered.
“I love him," she whispered.