EVERETT
I stare down at the royal-blue dress, conflicted. It’s beautiful, but it’s a way of making me his doll—dressing me how he wants. Just to parade me around to his brothers. Show off what he’s been playing with.
It makes me want to vomit. But isn’t this what I’ve wanted? To belong to someone?
I’m confused. Torn between wanting to be alone and wanting to be someone’s world.
I keep reminding myself that he’s not like the others. He holds me afterward. He assures me that he’s proud of me. But then again, it could simply be another form of manipulation. I feel like I’m going insane with my intense mood swings and inconsistent thoughts.
Sitting down next to it, I run my sweaty hands over my shaking thighs. I could skip the reception. I mean, they’re already married; why even have this party?
But my father deserves my attention. He’s done so much for me. I owe him. He doesn’t want to hide me—his words. And although I’m proud of being his daughter, it’s still hard to accept.
Deciding, I know what I have to do. I tell myself that this has to be done. Kashton told me his friends think I’m the one putting their wives in danger.
I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a threat to their Ladies.
If I hide, it’ll be like telling them they’re right. I refuse to let them believe that. I’d never hurt them. I’ve been the innocent one forced into a world that only saw me as a toy to use.
Therefore, I’m going to show my face, hold my head high, and let them see who the fuck I am. No more hiding. No more being known as a nobody.
I’m a fucking somebody.Yeah, Kashton’s toy.
Picking up the dress, I pull it on and stand in front of the mirror. I run my hands down the silk fabric and feel a sense of pride.
I’ll behis, but also, there will be no going back after this.
I want to laugh at that thought. Like I ever stood a chance of getting away from him. Maybe I don’t want to. I like that he plays with me. That he can’t get enough of me.
Being Kashton’s toy and being a doll are two different things, right? One feels good and the other was a death sentence.
It’s just afterward that I’ve got to train my mind to understand. The doubt and falling back into my own head. It’s a dark place that I can’t dig myself out of sometimes. I was raised to not enjoy sex—it was only for the men’s pleasure. Then my father sold me to Dollhouse, and that was an entirely different type of hell. You’re forced to enjoy it. They want your body to turn on you.
I wasn’t lying to Kashton. I love when he forces me to come. It takes away having to think about it. But afterward, shame fills me because I enjoy it.
The door opens and I turn to face him. Kashton comes to a stop, shoving his hands into his dress slacks. He looks so handsomein a black suit and royal-blue silk tie. It matches the color of my dress perfectly. He’s what dreams are made of. If I were a princess and he were a prince, we’d sail off into the sunset and live happily ever after. But I’m well aware that’s not how our story will go. Although I’m willing to pretend for him.
His blue eyes rake over my body, and when they meet mine, he walks toward me. “It’s missing something.”
My stomach drops, and I nervously shuffle from foot to foot. He’s changed his mind. He no longer wants to be seen with me. Kashton’s finally realized I’m too damaged. Even for him. And he doesn’t even know the real me…what I’ve been through.
Fuck, I need a drink. Picking up the dress, I go to step out of the room, but he grabs my arms and stops me with a frown. I let go of my dress and stay where I’m at, waiting to see what he meant.
He removes a box from the top of my dresser, and I wonder how long it’s been there. He hands it to me.
I glance at him, and his eyes give nothing away. Just a blank canvas of blue sky. They’re pretty enough to get lost in. I’ve never gotten to stand on a beach and look over the ocean with the sun shining down on me, but when I look into his eyes, I imagine it’d be the same. I’m just missing the sand between my toes and the smell of saltwater.
Taking the box, my fingers shake as I nervously untie the GRAFF ribbon and open it to reveal a diamond necklace. It sparkles against the black felt that it lies on. “It’s beautiful.”
“The Classic Butterfly Diamond necklace.” He smiles proudly.
“Butterfly?” My wide eyes meet his.
“You have a butterfly tattoo.” His smile falters with doubt. “I just figured you liked them.”
Swallowing the knot in my throat, I nod. “I do.”
“Allow me.” He holds his hand out, and I turn, giving him my back. He fastens it around my neck before I face him.
