Chapter Three
Talia
I gasp and sit up, grabbing at my neck. It feels like I’m still hanging, but I’m not. I look around and find Henry frowning at me as he leans against the dresser. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I wanted to die,” I choke out.
“Well, stop it. Your future husband expects his beautiful fiancée to join him for dinner. I don’t get paid if you fucking kill yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Do you know how much money you are worth?!” he snaps.
“I don’t care!” I snap back.
“Clearly,” Henry says as he grabs my arm and jerks me off the bed.
I trip and stumble as he is dragging me to the bathroom.
He turns the shower on and shoves me down on the tile.
I gasp when the ice-cold water blasts down on me, and he steps back.
“Wash yourself,” he snaps. “I can’t fucking believe you.
It’s the middle of fucking summer, and now you have to wear a scarf.
You better fucking hope he isn’t disappointed. ”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat quietly. I force myself up and start scrubbing my body. I’m naked, which means he probably fucked me before I woke. Someone did, because my belly aches.
When he thinks that I’m clean enough, Henry shuts the water off and pulls me out of the shower. He starts drying my body, but it’s not out of kindness. He’s not taking care of me; he’s protecting his money.
I don’t know why I assumed I would be able to get away with killing myself, because I know he has cameras in my room. He probably expected me to do something like this. I should have fucking known better. Now if this guy doesn’t buy me, I’m going to get whipped and rebroken.
I am numb as he dresses me and dries my hair.
He ensures there isn’t a hair out of place when he steps back to inspect me.
“It will have to do,” he says as he wraps a scarf around my neck.
Turning me to face the mirror, I hardly recognize myself.
I am wearing a gorgeous silver sequin dress.
My tits look phenomenal, and I am flawless with the bruises wrapped around my throat covered.
My long, strawberry blonde hair is falling in gorgeous curls over my shoulder and down my back.
He applied my makeup exceptionally well, proving that he has to maintain control of everything.
He is rarely the one to get any of the girls ready, but he does if his payout is large enough.
“Now then,” he says, sweeping my hair off my shoulder.
“You are expected to keep your pretty fucking mouth shut and smile when you are told to. If he tells you to crawl under that table and suck his cock, you better fucking do it. If he takes you back to his room and shares you with ten men, you better fucking bend over and take every goddamn cock. If he sends you back to me and I don’t get paid, I will keep you for myself. Do I make myself clear, Talia?”
“Yes, Master,” I say softly. The last thing I want is to have to marry the devil himself.
“You are worth too much money to be rejected so many times,” he says before kissing my cheek. “You are lucky that your tight little cunt pays well.”
“The luckiest,” I deadpan. He grits his teeth and looks like he wants to slam my face into the mirror, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he shoves me toward the bathroom door, and I stumble into the room.
Waiting at the door is one of the guards.
I have never learned their names because they are either staring at me with a deadpan expression or moaning as they rape me.
One of them cried the first time he fucked me, and Henry shot him while he was still balls deep in my ass, mid orgasm.
Ah, the memories…
I step into heels and grab the matching clutch with absolutely nothing in it.
It’s just for show, making me look complicit and willing.
Henry and the guard walk me down to the elevator, and we step in with a little old lady.
She smiles sweetly at me, and I force a smile back.
If this poor woman catches wind of anything, they will slit her throat and leave her to bleed out right here.
When we step out, I am led out of the hotel and to a waiting car. “Take her down to The Grand Aurelia,” Henry tells the driver as the guard gets into the backseat with me.
“Yes, Sir,” he grunts, glancing back at me.
“And remember, Ben has requested that no one touch her,” Henry says. “If he doesn’t take her with him, then you can.”
“Oh, he’ll keep her,” the guard chuckles next to me. “See ya later, boss.”
The door shuts, and I sink into my seat a bit as we pull away from the curb. I stare at the door, wondering if I could just jump out. I bet it’s locked, though.
“Want some advice, Talia?” the driver asks.
“Sure,” I say sarcastically.
“Cut next time,” he says, smirking at me in the rearview mirror. “He will just put a bullet in your head to avoid having to take you to the hospital.”
“Good to know,” I mutter.
“Meh. Ben will buy her,” the guard says with a shrug.
“Well, shit. He kills all of his wives when they can’t give him a baby. When do you think he will realize it’s his fault?”
“At least by wife number six,” the guard laughs.
“Let one of his staff fuck you so you can get knocked up,” the driver says to me.
“That freak has cameras everywhere, and they get chained up,” the guard counters.
It’s sick how they are laughing and chatting like they aren’t mocking my survival right now. It’s like it’s a game to them—guess how long I will live.
When the car stops, the guard steps out. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before sliding out. “Run, and I’ll shoot you,” the guard whispers to me.
“Fuck you,” I growl before yanking my arm away and walking into the hotel. He follows behind me, but I just keep walking until we get to the restaurant.
“Do you have a reservation?” the host asks me sweetly.
“Yes, we are meeting Ben Jacobs for dinner,” the guard says with a warm smile.
“Yes, right this way,” she says. We follow her through the restaurant, and no one seems to notice us. That’s how it’s supposed to be, though. I am expected to blend in, shut the fuck up, and spread my legs when I am told to.
When we get to the table, I find that Ben Jacobs is in his mid-forties and suspiciously handsome. “Greg,” he says, shaking the guard’s hand. He casually pulls a chair out next to his, and I sit.
“You are more beautiful than Henry gave you credit for,” Ben says, kissing my cheek.
“Thank you,” I say softly as he sits back in his seat.
“Henry couldn’t make it, so he sent his watchdog?” Ben asks the guard, who I guess is named Greg.
“He had business to attend to,” Greg says simply. “Talia had a bit of an incident before arriving, so he has some staff to reprimand.”
“Ah, I see,” Ben says, studying me. “What incident might this be?”
“Are you asking me?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle.
“I am,” he says. “Does it have anything to do with that scarf?”
“Yes, Sir,” I say. “I… tried to kill myself.”
“Hmm,” Ben says, still studying me. I say nothing, because the last thing I want to do is fuck this up.
I don’t want to go back to Henry. I can’t.
I won’t. I simply will not go back. I don’t care what I have to do; I will not go back to him.
I will pretend to be a happy little housewife if it means I never have to see Henry again. “Tell me about yourself, Talia.”
“Uh…” I say, looking at Greg. What kind of fucking question is that? Who questions their toys before fucking them? Ben grabs my chin and turns my face to look at him.
“Look at me when I speak to you,” he says. “Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. “I don’t have family or friends, if that’s what you mean.”
“Partly,” he says. “Are you educated?”
“Y-Yes, Sir,” I stammer. “I have a bachelor’s in business administration.”
“Why not your master’s?”
“There wasn’t time for classes between getting raped in a hotel room,” I spit back, instantly regretting my attitude. “I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have said that…”
“How long have you been with Henry?” he asks.
“Six months.”
“Before?”
“Uh… I lived with my dad… He owed Henry money, so…”
“You’re lucky that you’re pretty, Talia,” he says, cupping my face as the server comes to the table. “We won’t be staying for dinner.”
Shit… Henry is going to fucking kill me…
“Yes, Sir,” the server says before walking away.
“Should I tell Henry you will be in touch to find another wife?” Greg asks as Ben holds my gaze.
“No,” Ben says with a smirk. “Tell him the transfer will be sent as soon as I get her back to my room.”
“Alright,” Greg says. “Well, if I am done here…”
“You are,” Ben says, standing and offering me his hand. I gently place my trembling hand into his, and he stands me up. Without another word, Ben leads me out of the restaurant and to the elevator.
I am trying to hold back my tears, but one gently rolls down my cheek. Ben lifts my chin and unwraps the scarf to see the bruising. “Can you do as you are told, or will I need to tie you to my bed?” he asks simply.
“I’ll listen…”
“Good,” he says as the elevator dings and the door opens to reveal the presidential suite. I hesitantly follow him out of the elevator, and I am suddenly nauseated.
“Go to the bedroom and strip down,” he says.
“Yes, Sir,” I say with a defeated tone. I turn and go to the bedroom, knowing its location from the last time I was brought here to meet a client.
I start to undress, and I can feel him watching me. I sit on the end of the bed, and he steps closer, unhooking his belt. “Henry told me you are exceptional at sucking cock,” he remarks. “Show me.”
Standing in front of me now, he stops his hands with his belt undone.
I am trembling, but I unbutton his pants and pull him out with shaky hands.
He has showered recently, so that’s positive.
The last time I was here, I was rejected because I gagged at the sweaty ball sweat smell when a man took his pants off. Henry whipped me for hours after that.
I take him into my mouth and push his cock down my throat, and Ben groans. He is a bit above average, so I stroke what I can’t take into my mouth. After a few seconds, he grabs the sides of my face and starts violently fucking my throat. It’s no different than what Henry does, so I don’t fight.
“Fuuuck,” he grunts, pushing me back onto the bed. “Beg me for it.”
“Please fuck me,” I say softly.
“Again,” he says before pushing my thighs apart. He spits into his hand a few times before coating his cock with his saliva.
“Please fuck me, Ben. I want it,” I whimper, trying not to cry.
“Fuck yes,” he grunts, slowly pushing into my vagina.
I grit my teeth and try to relax as he starts thrusting into me.
I stare up at the ceiling, praying he will come fast. It doesn’t hurt, and that’s the problem.
I am so goddamn numb that I can’t even get lost in the pain to forget that I’m being raped.
“Fuck, so fucking tight,” he grunts, slamming into me. There is a weird amount of pressure building in my belly, and it won’t go away. My body tightens on its own accord, and Ben snaps upright. “You better not fucking come, you fucking whore!”
“I can’t make it stop,” I whimper. He grunts as he slams deeper, and the most disgusting moan spills out of me.
I don’t expect it when he slaps me across the face, and I scream out in pain.
Clamping his hand over my mouth, he presses all of his weight onto my chest as he starts ramming into me over and over again.
It’s like he’s trying to force it, but I can’t stop the way my body reacts.
It’s disgusting and vile, but I can’t make it stop.
I can’t relax, and my body stays tense as he quickens.
“Fucking slut,” he growls in my ear. “Don’t you dare fucking come.”
It’s too late. I am already falling apart, and the more I fight it, the more pressure builds. When it hits me, I groan into his hand through my sob as my back involuntarily arches. He starts slamming into me harder when my body tenses, and comes.
Still buried inside of me, he pulls back, and his palm connects with the side of my face.
I scream out in pain as he starts slapping me over and over again.
I try to shield my face with my arms, but then he starts slapping the sides of my breasts and twisting my nipples as I scream so loudly that my voice breaks.
“You don’t get to fucking come unless I tell you to, you filthy fucking whore,” he growls, gripping my chin so tightly that it makes my jaw throb with pain.
“Yes, Sir,” I sob. “I’m sorry.”
“Stupid fucking bitch,” he mutters as he gets off the bed.
I am violently shaking when he gets off me, not daring to move from where I am.
I am trying to stop crying, afraid it will only make things worse.
He seemed so calm, but he’s just as bad as Henry.
Worse even. “Go take a shower. You fucking disgust me.”
I scramble up from the bed and practically run to the bathroom, making it just in time before my stomach turns inside out, and I start vomiting. I’ve hardly eaten today, so it’s mostly dry heaves that feel like literal death ripping through my body.
When it finally stops, I turn the shower on as hot as it will go and curl up on my side as the water rains down on me. With the door shut, I am finally alone, and the sobs pour out of me.
The realization that my life was never my own is hitting me again, and it’s devastating in a way that hurts more than anything these monsters have done to me.