I don’t see it. I never will.
But as long as I do what she says, she keeps her hands away from my sister at least. That’s the unspoken deal.
She told me she only wanted to adopt me. That my childhood trauma would make me a good leader one day. But of course it’s not possible to adopt only one sibling.
Natalya bears the Varner surname because of me. She’s in this hellhole because of me.
They usually leave her alone. But lately I’ve started noticing that Sylvia urges her to wear heavy makeup, to dress like a middle-aged woman. I don’t like that. Natalya’s favorite clothes are literally Adrien’s old rock band T-shirts. Now she’s wearing lipstick and dresses, just like Sylvia.
I think that’s only the beginning. I have a bad feeling she has a plan for my sister too.
One year and we’re gone.
I get to my car, open the door, put my hands on the wheel and let my head fall back on the headrest, resting for a moment, trying to calm my nerves, but my dick is still hard, suffocating in my pants. The vardenafil takes too long to wear off.
My phone dings in my pocket.
Sylvia: The charity event is starting in an hour, just pick up Natalya and come back.
I quickly type back and start my car. I thought she wanted me here so early to help with preparation for the event, not to fuck the host.
When I get home, I text Natalya to be ready in thirty minutes while I hit the shower, rubbing that disgusting perfume off my body and making myself cum so the pill finally wears off.
I put on a clean shirt with a suit jacket and black pants, hoping it’s a no-tie event. I don’t want to wear a stupid tie. I run my fingers through my hair, messing it up so I don’t look like one of those slicked blond idiots I will probably meet again today.
I get out of my room and run down the stairs, grabbing the keys and getting myself into my car, honking twice outside the house. Natalya finally comes out and runs down the sandstone stairs with bare feet, holding black heels in her hand.
She gets to the car and sits in the passenger seat, slipping the heels on. I stare at her. Her naturally wavy black hair is completely straightened, ironed, and styled, just like Sylvia wears it.
“Why are you dressing like that?” I exhale.
“Could you stop with that? I’m almost seventeen and Sylvia wants me to look presentable at those parties. Just get over it.”
She pulls down the sun visor and checks herself in the small mirror.
“Are we waiting for Adrien?” she asks while correcting her lipstick.
“No, he has work, he’ll come later.”
“What work? Sylvia is sending him to the city all the time lately.”
“Just running some errands.”
Natalya knows damn well that our parents are not just global investors with a lot of rich friends. But she doesn’t know how deep the business goes and how bloody it can get for me andAdrien sometimes. We’re all doing a pretty decent job of leaving her out of it.
She doesn’t answer me anymore as we get on the road.
We’re soon back at the property I left not even an hour ago. Some men come to our car and offer to park it for us, but I decline. Nobody’s touching my precious baby.
I help Natalya out of the car and we head toward the garden party. Small standing tables are spread out along the huge garden, white stones making little paths for people to walk on, so the perfectly maintained grass doesn’t get ruined by heels.
On the right side of the garden is a huge white tent where most of the catering is. Across from it stands a small stage. I’m not even sure what this charity is about, I just know that a lot of money will be collected and laundered for our clients.
We get to one of the small standing tables with a little lantern in the middle and one of the caterers immediately gets to us with two glasses of prosecco. We take it politely and drink almost all of it right away.
I know Natalya hates this posh bullshit even more than me. She would probably rather take her shoes off and jump in the fountain, then she’d flip off the security trying to drag her out, then Adrien would probably jump in there too and take the blame the next day.
She’s not doing shit like that anymore, since the consequences started to appear as bruises on Adrien’s face.
