LILIANA My entire body thrums with bone deep weakness as I struggle to open my eyes. So far, I've only managed to pop an eyelid open while the other remains closed in laziness. I'm alone in the room. A different room actually and it's not the dungeon. Thank God. A sharp exhale then I try to raise myself up on my elbows. The warmth of the sunlight’s rays streaming through the balcony says its past noon. “You're awake.” I freeze at the sound of the voice. It's not Alice's, neither is it that big buffoon’s. Awfully familiar it sounds yet I cannot for the life of me, place a face to it. I turn my head in that direction, shivering lightly as my eyes come to rest on that creepy little girl. My eyes fly open and all the weariness vanishes. “What the — why are you looking at me like that?” She is seated at the bottom of the bed, her brown eyes trained on me, unblinking. “Alice said to keep an eye on you. I have two.” She says with a dead ass face. I push away a shudder
LILIANA “What the hell just happened?” I muse, still in wonder. I'm blinking at the door that has been left ajar. Gone is the heat of his rage and in its wake is the lingering scent of his cologne intertwined with his masculine scent. I admit to pushing him to anger in the past with words that would cause even the strongest of men to cower and crumble. It cannot be the words I said. No, I doubt they caused as much as a dent on him. As usual, he takes the crown for reckless display of savagery. “Laura?” A voice gasps in the doorway. Recognition strikes me as I take in the image of auburn hair and wide hazel eyes. “Rachel?” I'm dumbstruck at first, however when I recall their betrayal, a scowl takes over. “What are you doing here? Have you come to finish me off like your father did?” “I work here. What are you doing here?” “Shit Sherlock, I'm harvesting ripe grapes.” I grouse with my eyes rolled far back into my head so far I fear they'll drop into my stomach. “Tha
LILIANAI place my hands on his broad chest with intent to shove, and against my will, they remain planted to the spot.Why am I letting him kiss me? Better still, why…does it feel so dang good?His tongue invades my mouth with a savage intensity that leave me breathless and before long, I fist the front of his shirt as an anchor. “So…divine.” He whispers hotly against my lips.His hold on my neck pulses in tandem with the clench of my pussy pressed onto his strong thigh. I feel his erection resting against the outside of my other thigh while he drives me to the brink.What starts out as slow movements, graduates into a steady rhythm that picks up in every passing second.This is wrong… This is repulsive… Yet, I find myself responding to the urgent demands of his thigh by grinding feverishly against him like my very existence depends on it.His kisses hold me ransom and I'm paying back with one of mine, matching every hot lash of his tongue with one of mine.It is like a battle for d
LILIANAAlice rambles about so many things at once as we head out of my room, chirping excitedly about the clothes we could try on and how long it had been since she played dress up. She doesn't strike me as one who takes part in such frivolities.I, on the other hand, am too unbothered to listen and too distressed about my recent deed to ask her to stop. I hadn't noticed a smaller building, well technically small next to Damian's mansion. Although it looks quite garish, I can't shake off the feeling that there might be more to it. Made men don't invest or build without reason. Anyway, the place is bigger than my newly assigned bedroom with racks of clothes lining up every corner.If I wasn't in a precarious situation, I would swear the place is a woman's wet dream.Robotically, I let Alice toss me this way and that, using me to satisfy her childhood fantasies and to be honest, it doesn't bother me as much. Somehow, it takes my mind away from my worries.She pulls away from the r
LILIANAThe next few days pass by in a blur, the possibility of my escape becoming bleaker than a candle's flame in a hurricane force wind. Andros is stuck with me every passing day because of his shoulder injury, like a stubborn tick on the side of a shaggy dog. At least his presence is sufferable. He makes little jokes and is a little friendly. When Alice kept sending food to my room, he suggested she get a mini fridge for chocolates and the likes so I can help myself to it, and she doesn't have to come all the way up.It was surprising because we just barely finished speaking about it. I figured if I am to be held without explanation, then I deserve humane treatment at least. I'm not having anything less. Still, it won't cancel out the burning hatred I have for every soul in the house.Well…except for Alice and Andros. I can't help but indulge myself in their lovable personalities.“What are you looking at the door and thinking about?” A gruff voice cuts through my train of thou
LILIANA I'm leaning over the balcony feeling the warm breeze as it carries the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hint of water. The sun dips behind the clouds tinted with shades of coral which streaks across the sky like wispy brush strokes on a canvas but I'm too anxious to appreciate their beauty. Why does his absence bother me? I should be using my relationship with Alice and Andros as a leverage for an escape. Andros stepped out and it has been thirty minutes since. He usually doesn't stay out longer than this. I should make active moves to flee but I don't. Instead, I'm haunted by the memory of Damian's mismatched eyes, his smile, his presence and it's as if his absence has created a void within me that I'm desperate to fill. I scoff, “This isn't the plan, Liliana.” I grip the balcony railing tightly until my knuckles whiten with tension. The scenery is a perfect model that I want to bring to life through colors, however, I can't shake off the feeling
DAMIAN'You're lying in filth,' is the first thing my brain registers when I open my eyes to behold the harsh streaks of morning light filtering in. I do a quick scan of my surroundings, startled to find the entire place strewn in an absolute mess. Then it all comes crashing down upon me, the memories of last night. I'd paid a visit to Stellëza's grave and drank myself to a blinding stupor on the drive home, thrashed her room in a rage and the rest is history.The giant portrait of her which is usually covered, is laid bare, the cover lying discarded on the bed. I should cover it up. I don't want anyone else beholding the treasure that used to be mine and is now death's.As I try to stand, a terrible headache threatens to split my skull in half. I groan, reaching for something solid to hoist myself up. My body sways this way and that despite efforts to keep still and clear my head.I weave my way in, out and around the furnitures littered about and try to open the door but it is s
DAMIANFor the next few hours, I bury myself in the confines of my office with the door shut against everyone else. Even Alice knows better than to come knocking at a time like this.Today, six months ago. A memory that shakes me to my very core, one I have forced shut in the recesses of my brain, now bursting forth like a barely contained explosion.Images keep pouring into my head…all drenched in red, red spilling onto my hands and soaking the rug, seeping into the lines on the tiles. The maid's mortified expression when she ran into the scene with Alice. A lot of the household staff had resigned the next morning. A chuckle slips out.I lift my head to stare drunkenly at the almost empty vodka bottle on my desk. The third one. I'm reaching for it when a knock sounds on the door.“Go away!” I slur. Pouring myself a half glass, I spin around to study the thick drapes on the window.“It's Mel, baby.” Another rap. “Open up.”I only see more red. “I said go away!” Without remorse, I g
LAJLA/STELLEZAThe muffled sound of gunshot still rings aloud in my brain, hours after I’d bathed and settled on my bed. Sleep refused to take over and now I’m left to stare at the ceiling and wonder what next.A gentle knock has me sitting up. Red comes in with two mugs of something steamy. Perfect for the cold weather. I grab one, then immediately go to work distracting myself and trying not to look in her direction. If I don’t, then maybe she won’t recall the calamity that happened at the club.Again, this is Red we’re talking about. Nothing goes past her nose without deep scrutiny. Better than I am who would rather pretend not to see it. I don’t care about a lot of things.“Let’s talk about what happened earlier tonight.”“Hmm hmm, this tastes better than all the others you have made, don’t you think?” That’s my pathetic attempt at diverting the topic, of course this will make her prod for words.She gives me a serious look that strips away every trace of amusement from my face.
LAJLA/STELLEZA“Table four in the aisle next to Bri.”“Got it.” I pick the tray, trying to keep the drinks from spilling as well as maintaining my balance on the killer heels on my feet. The place is teeming with hyped, drunk men enjoying the show that the dancers give them.Although there’s a no-touching policy enforced here, some of these men have no idea what it means to keep their hands to themselves at all times.I smile at the customers around the table and they return it as I serve their drinks. They’re still nice and friendly until the booze kicks in. On my way back, I find myself looking at Red as she glides around the pole in that lingerie set I got her. She’s magnificent when she dances and that’s probably why she’s at the centre where most men are spraying her so much cash with reckless abandon.They all love her.She’s Fin’s golden ticket and I’m proud of her. I walk into a hard wall the moment I turn. The apology falls out of my lips before I can stop it. The stranger
LAJLA/STELLEZA“Who is that?” Red asks, with a squint at the woman.Ignoring the dread which has now pooled down at the bottom of my spine, I straighten my posture and tug on her hands. “No one. Come on.”Red complies thankfully. But she still has that thinking look on her face. One where her lips curled into her mouth in thought.“You can’t ignore me forever, Lajla. Me and you have to talk and we have to do it now.” The woman’s stern voice commands again, rattling me in my steps. “Or she gets it.”On another thought, I change my mind about ignoring her. “Um, Red? I’ll need you to be on the lookout for the uber. I’ll be with you in five minutes tops.” I’m already on the move before she can voice her protest.The woman’s lips are curled into a sneer when she sees me approaching. “I knew you’d be a fool to not answer your mother’s call.”“My mother’s dead.” I reiterate, cold and calmly. “I don’t have all night, Arbana. What do you want?”“It’s been what, eight months? Six? You left with
UNKNOWN POVIt’s been one hell of a week running around, bussing all these tables and getting these drunk men to keep their wandering fingers to themselves. How can they even when the only things Phineas lets us wear is some shiny, barely-there silver slip that clings like a second skin. The hem barely brushes the tops of my thighs, and the neckline dips low enough to tease but not reveal it all.Just enough to keep the tips flowing. Thin spaghetti straps dig into my shoulders, sometimes falling off and keeps me wondering when my shift comes to an end. The stupid uniform keeps flashing skin from the right side of me where there’s a high slit.“This is bait, Fin,” I complained one day. “The shoes are killing me. Can we switch to maybe sneakers or something?”“It’s what keeps this place running, honey.” He patted my hand and batted artificial eyelashes at me. “You’re doing just great in them. A few minutes more and I’ll let you off.”So, I suck it up and take it like a good girl. Not
LILIANAI can’t bring myself to look at Theodore as he sits opposite me with legs apart, elbows on knees and head bowed. Is that supposed to be the posture of remorse? What the hell did I walk into?He sighs and raises his head. “Lily, what happened? How did you escape that monster?”I say nothing. Just sit there and stare, wondering if I’m in my right senses if I decide to trust him once more. However, I’d be a fool. Time should have taught me better.“You knew my husband sold me off to the Russian mafia, didn’t you? You were aware of it all. You listened to me get kidnapped by the men Kyle used to mingle with and you did nothing.”His features scrunch up in anger. He shakes his head. “Sold you off? Kyle sold you off?”Irritation flares hot. “Don’t try to make me look foolish, Theo. If it worked in the past, doesn’t mean it can happen again. Tell me the things I need to know. Did you know Kyle was involved in dirty dealings with these men?”He opens his mouth to say something, then s
LILIANA“Don’t feel bad, Liliana. Certain things happen and we have no control over them.” Those are my sister’s words that I try to console myself with. It didn’t matter what situation we were in, she knew the right things to say.But as I sit in this car and gaze at the house I have abandoned for months, I feel like I have lost everything all over again. What words would she have for me if she were still around?Eric gives me a look from the mirror. “I’m sorry if you had to be caught up in the middle of the heat like this. But if there’s anyone to blame, it should be Kyle.”“I don’t think I need that information anymore. Kyle is dead and I’m back home.” Even if it doesn’t feel like one. “You don’t need to apologize. We are all tethered to something one way or the other and owe dues.”He shrugs. “I guess you can put it like that.”Squaring my shoulders, I open the car door and step out. Before I can take more steps, Eric halts me. “I’m not in the best position to say this but you sho
LILIANAI’m looking into the face of the man who was my bodyguard appointed by Theo to watch me after my husband died and can’t seem to fathom what he’s doing in the home of my captor.Does Damian know he’s in here? The answer comes to me almost immediately; yes, he does. Yet, the truth in that doesn’t stop me from asking my own questions. “W-what are you doing here?” I stammer out.He’s Eric alright, but at the same time, he’s not. His face lacks the warmth I trusted. That character has fallen out of place and here is the man he has always been.Wait, who is he? “I need to ask you come questions and I’ll need you to be completely honest with me.” He sounds detached.Says the lapdog masquerading as a double agent to feed information to his master. Can’t a woman trust anyone these days?“You both know each other?” Rachel looks between me and the burly man still patiently waiting for my attention. When nobody gives her a response, she excuses us and shuts the door.“Liliana—”“Don’t t
LILIANAThe journal feels heavy as it sits in my palms. Not because it is thick or leather-bound or anything grand. It’s just heavy…filled with my sister’s wordings–Well, I don’t know that for sure until I open it and that’s what I’m scared of. I stare at it intently and it’s almost like I can hear it whispering at me to open it and face what I’ve been running away since I returned to this cursed house.Rachel watches me from the corner of her eye, not saying a word until I sigh. “You should come with me. I don’t think you want to be in here as much as I do.” Her eyes are filled with untold tales. “Let’s go to your room. You don’t want to be seen like tis in the hallway.”I nod, then rise to follow her stiffly, following her down the corridor like a ghost. My limbs are moving, but my mind’s reeling. Even my heart isn’t beating right. Once we’re inside my quarters, I drop the journal on the bed and start grabbing my things. “Liliana.” Rachel approaches me gently. “What did he tell
DAMIAN Her eyes widen in caution as I approach her. Like she’s scared of me, or maybe scared I’d hurt her even when I’m certain she knows I can’t. She doesn’t really know the power she holds over me, does she? I should say I am disappointed but how can I when I can’t even tell her how I really feel about her? That’s just hypocrisy. Behind her is Stelleza’s wardrobe full of her things which I stowed away in her memory. “I couldn’t throw her things out, neither could I burn them.” I remember the exact angle where I kept the journal hidden. Since this is her blood sister we’re talking about, then perhaps she has a right to know what it entails and the truth about how she died. Reaching further into the back, my fingertips graze a hard leather. Bringing it out, I flip the leather-bound journal and hand it to her. She gazes down at the book, not taking it yet. “What is this?” “She wrote this,” I murmur, recalling the dark words that birthed my rage. “She wrote every word on every