My glare does nothing to wilt his stare. The twitch in his lip tells me he’s goading me, but I refuse to back down. The fucker needs to remember his place. I won’t give him the reaction he’s hoping for. I remain impassive, knowing he’s trying to incite my father’s uncertainties surrounding my capabilities. Rage boils behind my calm expression, but I’ve grown up with the ability to mask my emotions; after all, they’re a weakness I can’t afford.
“A willing whore,” I state. A subtle dig at the fact that his pickings would be someone unwilling. Man or woman.
He lifts a shoulder. “I like the fight.”Sick bastard.
My father chuckles, no doubt sensing the animosity growing between us. “Where is Czar tonight?” he asks, opting to defer the impending tension.
My younger brother runs our underground fight clubs as well as our many strip clubs. Our father knows damn well where he is tonight; he arranged the fight, Stone, our half-brother, is taking part in.
“I think I might head over to the club after the auction.” Vector licks his lip like a predator, his eyes never leaving mine.
He likes to fuck with Stone. Torture him, to be precise, and he knows it angers the fuck out of me how our father allows him to abuse Stone purely because he’s a bastard child of his.
I’m only thankful Sienna doesn’t receive the same treatment.Her mother was one of the kitchen helpers, and even before our mother’s death, she became a permanent fixture in the house. Nonna spent time showing her our family recipes, and only now do I see she was training her to take her place, as if knowing her fate. Such a shame she succumbed to a similar fate as our own mother, only this one chose to shoot herself, something we never told Sienna. She is, after all, our baby sister to protect. Still, Father appears to favor her. Her photo remains in our home like she was more deserving of all of those before and after her. While Sienna’s beauty being the mirror image of hers worries me, Czar insists it’s become her savior.
All I can do is find Stone the best MMA trainers possible, in the hopes we craft him into becoming a fighting machine, one our father cannot ignore as a cash cow. Of late, I’ve even managed to persuade Father that Vector’s perverse punishment toward Stone was affecting our profit, and he appears to have been more lenient with him.
My lip curls and his eyes narrow. “Can you not last all night with the whores at the auction, Vector?” I respond. Insulting his inability to fuck should knock the fucker down a peg or two. “At least the whores won’t be disappointed in your lack of skills. That’s one good thing about them being unwilling, I guess.” I offer a smirk for good measure, knowing how much it annoys the hell out of him.
I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. His face reddens, his temple pulsates, but the fucker knows he can’t react, not how he’d like to, at least.
My father claps multiple times to draw my attention toward him. “Now, now, boys. We’re almost there.” He points out the window, and quite frankly, I feel nothing. No excitement or giddiness. No disgust or nausea, as I know some suffer. I am devoid of mysurroundings.
I have, after all, been coming here since I became a man.
As part of the celebrations to honor me killing Nonna, to be precise.
And now I am thirty-four and still just as miserable.
Chapter Two
Hevan
The back of my head throbs, pulsating around to the front, and there’s a sting in my neck that has me grimacing. Slowly, my eyelids flutter open, and what greets me is nothing but haziness. A dark, blurry room that resembles a basement. I’m lying on a solid, cold floor, and I do not know how I got here, what I’m doing here, or who put me here. Nothing about this can be good; it doesn’t take a mastermind to work that out.
A chill sweeps up my spine, and every hair on my body stands on end.
The realization I’m in grave danger hits me square in the chest, taking my breath away. I push onto my knees, and the room spins. “Shit.” Then I exhale, and my gaze latches onto the wall. The contorted blur becomes clearer. Holy shit, is that blood sprayed up the wall?
“Yes. It is,” a soft voice answers beside me, and I realize I spoke aloud. I scurry back on my ass until my back hits thewall, and the full room comes into view, and a new terror dawns on me.
There’s not just one woman here, there’re lots. When all eyes land on me, my skin crawls at the women’s scrutiny. Some eye me with suspicion, some with intrigue, sympathy, and callousness, and others look just as terrified as I am.
Holy shit, what the hell is happening?
A shudder racks through me as a sense of dread looms in my conscience, and I scan over myself to discover my arms are bare and so are my legs. I’m wearing a white dress shirt, and my panties and bra are missing too. I might be covered, but I’ve never felt so exposed.
I’m in trouble.
Big trouble.
The last thing I remember was walking back to my dorm with Stefan, my boyfriend of four months.
Oh, Jesus, he must be so worried.
My chin wobbles. “Where am I?” My throat is scratchy, and I want to ask for a drink but know how ludicrous that is, given my situation.
The woman beside me with the soft voice scoots closer, and I fight the urge to recoil. Her eyes are kind and her features delicate; she doesn’t look like a threat, but glancing around the room, the same cannot be said about some of these women whose hostility oozes from them.
