CHAPTER 3

My mother’s scream as soon as the door opened could probably shatter glass and maybe raise the dead.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

“You tried to RAPE her!” Her voice was pure venom. “You tried to raped my daughter!”

Mark looked at me with nothing but disappointment and rage. He did not appear shocked. It was like he had expected something like this to happen. But I was shocked. I was shocked to my bones because I had not been expecting my mother to show up like this and then scream rape!

I shifted my gaze from Mark to my mother who looked like a charging lioness. She was here for blood and she was going to have it. I could see her body heaving dramatically as she wailed about me being almost raped.

“You bastard! How could you drug your own sister and try to… to…”

“MOM,” I screamed, “stop it! I wasn’t drugged. Why are you saying things like that?”

My mother laughed bitterly.

“Then what did I walk into? I saw him on you against the wall and trying to force himself—”

“Enough mother!” I yelled, but that was when it hit me. My mother had set this up or part of it because all of a sudden I began to feel lightheaded. My brain began to fog. I looked at her with nothing but shock on my face.

“You… you…” But she had grabbed my hand and shoved me behind her.

I could hear Mark’s voice faintly, “The two of you are pathetic. Do you really think anyone will believe this stupid performance?”

“I didn’t…” I began to say but my mother jerked my arm, pulling me out of the conference room.

“Why are you doing this?” I managed to ask, “You know he did not…” but all I received was a slap across my cheek.

“You ungrateful slutful cunt,” she cursed at me, “what story would you prefer? That you willingly allowed your brother to fuck you?”

I was shocked at her words.

“That never happened!” I managed to scream through my brain fog.

I was dizzy already and my vision was blurred.

“I… you drugged me.”

“And who is going to believe that?” I heard her laugh cruelly.

She grabbed my ear, literally yanked me toward the elevator, dumping my body onto the cold floor like I was a dustbin bag.

“Mother, stop! You’re hurting me!”

“You’ll thank me later.” She kicked me hard, causing me to squirm in pain as tears streamed down my face in torrents, “When we own everything and he’s rotting in prison for rape.”

“You’re evil,” I said weakly just as the fog clouded my senses completely.

When I woke up the next day, I found myself in a room that was not mine. I was alone in what looked like a hotel suite. I knew that my mother could not afford to pay for this room unless she had somehow gotten her hands on Mark’s inheritance. I tried locating the door to my room, but it was locked. She had locked me inside so I could not escape.

It was not the first time she had done something like this. She would do things like this to me from time to time when I was not obeying her orders. I felt like a constant prisoner in my own home. It was one of the reasons I wanted to go back to college and never look back.

I searched the room for my phone but there was none. I had to do something—I had to find a way out of here.

It was then that my eyes found the telephone on the bedside table.

Room service!

I called to order a drink and waited patiently until I heard someone at the door. There was a knock and a voice saying, “Room service.”

“Silly me! I locked myself in and my key card is in a friend’s room. Can you open the door please?”

“Of course ma’am!” came the prompt response.

I only had to wait for a couple of minutes and then the door was open.

I was free and I was never looking back.

I walked out the door and past the lady who had come to deliver my drinks. I headed right for the elevator, holding my breath and praying that my mother would not see me before I could run away for good.

The elevator door opened however and a bald man stepped out of it and grabbed my hand. He smiled menacingly at me.

I was terrified by the actions of this total stranger.

“Let me go!” I said, “Who the fuck are you?”

“It’s a pity you woke up earlier than usual,” he said, a disgusting smile covering his face. He stepped even closer towards me, tightening his grip on my hand. For a weird reason, his scent felt ominously familiar although I could swear I had never seen the man in my life.

He lowered his head as though to kiss me and I could do nothing but scream.

“Stop making a noise, dear,” he said, “I paid very good money to have you docile.”

I was petrified.

I was in too much shock that I made no movement or sound as he lowered his head again, but just before his lips touched mine, the man’s body fell to the ground with a loud thud.

When I looked up, I saw Mark Cuban standing over me.