Chapter 37 #2
I want to reassure her that everything will work out, but the truth is, it isn’t entirely up to me. Her being Greek presents far more complications than I ever anticipated. Without an agreement in place, marrying her out from under them would be a declaration of war.
Ares watched from the sidelines as I walked right into this trap. And while Chantel might believe that she’s free from her old life, I don’t think she realizes the power he holds over her. He wouldn’t have enjoyed this development so much if he didn’t already have a plan.
In addition to the inevitable groveling he’ll take far too much pleasure in, he wants something in return.
The odds are pretty good that it revolves around Mariella, but I won’t know until I talk to him.
So for now, I lift Chantel into my arms and carry her down the hall.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“The library.”
She releases a breath and nods against me.
I’m certain this will be one of the most difficult conversations she’s ever had. I doubt she’s ever really opened up to anyone about her past, at least not fully. I want her to have something else to focus on besides me.
She doesn’t need to worry about what I’m thinking while she’s laying herself bare.
Once we’re inside, I settle her onto the cushion and drape a blanket over her before I strip off my shoes, pants, and shirt.
It’s already late, and we’ll probably end up sleeping in here. But I also need her to know I’m not leaving as soon as she tells me what I want to hear.
I lay on the cushion beside her and pull her close, resting her head on my chest so she can look up at the night sky.
“Where do you want me to start?” she asks, a nervous energy pulsing through her.
“It’s your story to tell.” I comb my fingers through her hair, studying her in profile.
She takes a minute to think about it before she begins.
“I want you to know that I didn’t come here to ruin your life. I came here to escape mine.”
I stay silent, my palm sweeping the length of her back as her gaze turns distant, and her past slowly unfolds.
“I grew up in New York,” she says. “My mother was Ares’s aunt, and she married my father when she was only eighteen.
“He wasn’t a good man. I think she shielded me from a lot of it, but I know he used to hurt her. I’d hear her crying at night, and I’d see the bruises. She wanted to leave him, but she never made it out.”
She closes her eyes, and a rogue tear tracks down her cheek.
“After she died, my father had little use for me, so he told the housekeeper to find activities that would keep me busy. She signed me up for as many dance classes as she could, and that became my life for the next twelve years.”
“When I was old enough, my father arranged a marriage with Damian Christopoulos.
“Nobody had really prepared me for what to expect, but over time, Damian put me at ease.
“The contract included a one-year courtship, and he’d meet with me once a week. He seemed charming, and he said and did all the right things, so I thought I was one of the lucky ones.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “But I was just a foolish girl who didn’t know a wolf from a sheep.”
“One night, he took me to a dinner party at an associate’s house. He was a wealthy political donor, and Damian was the liaison between him and the Greeks.
“When we walked in, I noticed my friend was there too, but I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her.
A man greeted us at the door and told us to follow him upstairs.
I thought it was weird they wanted me to go because they didn’t usually involve women in business.
But Damian grabbed me by the arm and dragged me along with him.
“Once we were upstairs, the man led us to a bedroom, and the only other person there was the host. Damian told the man he’d brought him what he wanted, and the man looked at me.
“He explained that Damian owed him a lot of money—more than he could pay. That was when Damian told me to do whatever the man wanted, and it would go easier.
“I remember staring at him, certain I was misunderstanding the situation, because he would never do that to me. But then the man told Damian to take a seat and enjoy the show, and he sat down without an argument. He seemed so checked out, I wasn’t sure he even cared.
“In any case, he certainly didn’t say anything when the man threw me on the bed and started mauling me.”
My body goes rigid beneath her, and I’m not entirely sure I can stomach what she’s about to tell me. But she’s too deep in the memory to turn back now.
“I started to cry,” she goes on. “And I just kept looking at Damian, thinking he would stop it at some point. But when I called out for him, the man informed me that Damian was the one who made this arrangement. He offered up my virginity for payment, and the man intended to get his money’s worth.
He said he only fucked virgins, because he wanted them to remember him forever. ”
Silent rage festers inside me, and I’m already imagining all the ways I’m going to torture this motherfucker when I find out who he is.
“He was brutal,” Chantel rasps. “When he finished the first time, he told Damian to leave, and he’d send me out when he was done with me…if I was still breathing.”
I close my eyes and drag in a rough breath as I hold her tighter.
“It went on for hours,” she chokes out. “I left the room in a ripped dress, never imagining things could get any worse. But as I stumbled down the hall looking for Damian, I found him with his dick in my best friend’s mouth. When he looked up at me, he smiled like I was getting what I deserved.”
“I told him we were done, and that was the first time he hit me. He said if I ever breathed a word about what happened, he’d kill me. After that, I just became numb.