Chapter four

Alexander’s grip was rough as he dragged me from the hall.

I tried to cover myself with the tattered remnants of my gown, but it was useless. He hauled me into the limousine, the engine roaring like a caged beast, and we sped off before I could catch my breath.

By the time we arrived at the Hawthorne estate, my chest was tight.

The imposing walls and turrets screamed old money and lethal power.

Inside, the white walls gleamed, lined with rare antiques and portraits that seemed to stare right through me. I tried to focus on the art, my usual escape when reality became too loud. This time beauty couldn't mask the fear underneath.

He threw open the door to a guest room. It was small. Sterile. Smaller than my own apartment. A pang of disappointment hit me. Even the servants in my father’s mansion had rooms larger than this.

“This isn’t your father’s mansion,” he said, his voice a calm. He didn't even look at me as he read my thoughts. “You’re nothing but a slave here.”

The words drained the color from my face. I didn't panic, though. I had survived my father’s house. I knew how to scrub, wash, and bleed until the work was done. Hard labor was nothing new to me.

“A sex slave,” he added. My stomach twisted.

“What do you mean?” I whispered.

“Strip,” he commanded. He began unbuttoning his own shirt as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on me.

I hesitated. I was expecting insults, slandering and difficult chores, not this.

"What are you waiting for?" He tossed his shirt onto the bed.

I obeyed, my fingers trembling as I loosened the last ropes that held my gown. I turned away to shield myself, my pulse hammering in my ears.

“Why are you turning around?” he snapped. "Who are you putting up the shy girl act for?"

I froze. I realized too late that I was supposed to be his fiancee, the real Aria. They had probably shared intimacy in positions I couldn't dare to imagine. Heat rose to my cheeks as I faced him again, resigned. The gown pooled at my feet with my silk panties. I stood naked, exposed. I felt like a specimen under a microscope.

“Don't move. Stand there until I say otherwise,” he commanded.

The cold air slammed against my skin. Then, I heard a familiar, sickening sound behind me. The heavy slide of leather through belt loops. I knew that sound. I grew up with it.

The first crack of the belt across my skin was sharp. The sting was a familiar kiss, a reminder of my parents way of correcting me. He struck again, harder, the sound echoing off the walls until my skin burned.

"Used to getting this ass spanked, aren't you?" he asked.

I remained silent. I wasn't going to hand him my trauma. Admitting I was used to being whipped would mean reopening the door to my past, and I had worked too hard to keep that door locked.

He struck harder. The leather bit into my flesh, and despite my resolve, a moan escaped my throat. Alexander paused. His fingers traced the rising welts, dipping lower until he found me, betrayed by my own body, soaked with a heat I couldn't control.

“This isn't even punishment to you,” he said quietly.

For minutes, we stood in a heavy, suffocating silence.

Curiosity eventually won, and I risked a glance over my shoulder.

He was staring at me with an intensity that made me forget how to breathe, as if he were trying to stare directly into my soul. Then, he simply discarded the belt on the floor.

His phone rang, and he answered immediately. "Have you found him?" He took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. "Keep following him. Do not let him out of your sight. If he puts up a fight, capture him alive."

He hung up, grabbed his belt, and walked out without another word.

My skin was on fire. I slowly crawled onto the bed, lying on my stomach as the past and the future blurred into one painful reality. I had just caught a glimpse of my new life, and it was darker than anything I had imagined.

As I lay there, my heart thumping, I wondered when he would come back. What if he wanted to do more than just use his belt?

I’ve never had sex. I’ve only kissed two guys in my whole life. I’ve never been lucky with relationships, men always showed their true colors before I ever agreed to let them take my virginity.

If he tried to have sex with me, he’d realize I’m a virgin, and the secret would be out. I guess Aria wasn't smart enough to think about that.

Driven by that thought, I got up and walked to the wardrobe, ignoring the sting of the welts.

I was relieved to see Alexander had at least been thoughtful enough to bring my things. I found Aria's suitcase, rummaged through her clothes, and found her hidden cellphone.

I dialed my own number. She picked up on the second ring.

"Andrea?"

"Yeah, it's me. I think you left something out when you were mapping out your grand plan."

"I don't believe I did," Aria replied smoothly. "Everything is supposed to work out fine. I'm only shocked he hasn't killed you or cut out your tongue yet."

My breath hitched. "Aria, do you mean you expected me to be dead? You knew this man was a monster, and yet you traded my life for yours as if I meant nothing?"

A knock sounded at the door before she could reply. I quickly shoved the phone under the bed. A tall man walked in, heading straight for the wardrobe without sparing me a glance. He cleared out everything, including Aria's suitcase and left.

I scrambled for the phone again. "Andrea, you're going to blow my cover!" she yelled.

"You're impersonating me, and the least you can do is help me live a little longer!" I hissed. "If he figures out I'm not you, you'll be in trouble too."

"Fine. What did we leave out, Andrea?"

"The fact that I'm still a virgin."

"Bloody hell! Why are you still a virgin, Andrea? Why?"

"Because not everyone allows every man who winks at them access to their body," I deadpanned.

"And where has your holier-than-thou attitude gotten you? An unrecorded crime, a godforsaken apartment in a wretched neighborhood, and a monster for a husband. My only advice is to pretend you aren't a virgin. Take the pain, no matter how badly it hurts. Now, goodbye."

The line went dead, and so did the part of me that still believed she was my sister.