Chapter 5.

Lucy.

“Give me our coats and the car keys,” Chase barks at his men as I’m carried over his shoulder and we’re thrown into the cold.

“Let me go, Chase!” I struggle, but his hold is iron.

The man, Cameo, hands him the coats, and Chase keeps moving toward the car. That’s when I elbow him hard.

He grunts and his grip loosens.

I fall onto the snow covered ground, scrambling up again and tearing the expensive rhinestone shoes off my feet. I rip the mask from my face.

A wail rips out of me.

A wail for May. For all the girls who are going to die in there.

“You bastard!” I scream, stumbling toward him and shoving him hard in the chest. “Is this your version of protection?! Bringing me to a slaughterhouse?!”

My voice breaks.

“They just killed May! She was my friend back at Davenport!”

He doesn’t even flinch.

He just stands there, solid. Watching me through dark eyes.

“Put your mask back on, Lucy. Someone can see you. My father can see you...”

“Fuck him. Fuck all of them!” I snap, palming my face with shaking hands. Tears spill hot and uncontrollable. Cold hits me hard. “You don’t want your father to see me, right? Because he used to fuck me? Because he made me his exclusive girl?”

Memory slams into me.

The two nights Crane Olympus came to Davenport to use me.

The first time, I was too drugged to register his presence. Drugged because my body had resisted the men. Had refused to get used to my new job at Davenport. A job I was forced into.

But Crane Olympus told me his name. Whispered it to me, before he took me that first night.

And the second time, I was aware. I knew his face. Brutal. Mean. A cruelty that masked the man’s handsomeness beneath. Nothing like his son.

I never knew Chase was related to him until tonight. I never even knew Chase, until the night he took my blindfold off and I saw his face.

“He’s your father, and yet you brought me to your home to fuck me?” My voice shatters. “What kind of sick bastard are you? Using me for your sick, incestuous act!”

I sink onto the frozen ground.

“Get up.” Chase orders darkly.

I don’t move. I don’t want to move. I just want to stay here and let the cold kill me.

My mind drifts back to the moment I saw his father inside tonight. I’d frozen. Horror locking me in place. And then my mind connected it.

Crane Olympus. Owner of Mount Olympus Bank. Which means Chase is his heir. The faceless heir who never appears in the media for “personal reasons.” Or was it “security.”

“You never showed your face in the media.” I mutter bitterly now. “Was it so you could deceive girls like me? Fuck them after your dad’s finished with them?”

His eyes narrow to slits.

Slowly, he closes the distance between us.

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit.” He yanks me up and slams me flush against him, his stare dark and consuming.

“I’m going to remind you, Kitten, who you belong to. Not my father. Not those men who touched you.”

He drags me across the snow covered lawn, into the snow covered garden.

“Let me go, Chase!” I fight him, my voice tearing into the night.

I cry again for May.

Memory flashes.

“You don’t look like one of us,” she’d said when she first approached me.

I’d stood there shaking, holding the clothes one of Davenport’s matrons had given me. Leather lingerie. I was supposed to try them on.

“Your hands are so soft,” May had said gently. “And your skin is still firm. What brought you here?”

My heart had cracked open.

“My dad told me to choose.” I’d whispered. “Either I let him fuck me… Or I watch him shoot my mother. She’s already frail. He beat her for years until she became…this.”

May had stared at me, confused, horrified.

“So how did you get here?”

“When I begged for another way,” I’d said, “He told me only if I agreed to work for his friend, Davenport, then he wouldn’t shoot her.”

Her eyes had gone wide.

“How would he get satisfaction from that?”

“By watching videos of the men fucking me.”

She had pulled me into her arms while I cried.

And now, now I watched her die. Watched men fuck her while another slit her throat. The last time I’d seen her was the morning of the day Chase’s men abducted me.

“Davenport wants me for an outside job,” she’d said excitedly. “A trip. Rich clients. They’re paying six figures.”

She’d been dressed already; jeans, shirt, suitcase waiting.

I hated that life. I was only enduring it for Mum. So I could save enough to buy our freedom.

“I pray one day you get a trip like this,” she’d said, hugging me tight. “One that pays enough to save you and your mum.”

I never knew that was goodbye. I never knew the trip was a lie. I never knew she’d die. I never knew I’d watch.

“Let me go, Chase!” I wrench at him in the present.

But he hauls me against a tree, pinning me. His body tight to mine. Garden lights reflecting in his eyes.

“I own you, Kitten. Not my father.” His lips drop to my neck.

His hands slide inside my dress, up my bare thighs.

I fight him. Fight the way my traitorous body responds.

“Not any of those men, Kitten,” he murmurs, kissing the other side of my throat, his tongue dragging down my skin.

“I don’t want to fuck you, Chase… my friend just died. Your rich friends killed her.” I cry bitterly. He tries to kiss me again and I bite his lower lip. He hisses. But doesn't pull back, as I sob, bitterly.

He stills. Watches me for several seconds. His eyes darken with something dangerous. Blood peeking out of his split lower lip. I shrink. Then his gaze softens.

“Was she close to you?”

I nod weakly.

He exhales, heavily and then he kisses me.

Deep and consuming.

“I’m sorry, Kitten.” He breathes into my mouth. “I’m sorry you saw that.”

Soft sobs shake me.

But I kiss him back.

Because right now, his voice, his mouth, they’re the only things proving I’m alive. That I’m safe.

“What if the cult you spoke of gets me?” I whisper. “What if they kill me like that?”

His gaze turns lethal.

“I would never let them touch you. Don’t you understand? You belong only to me. You’re safe with me.”

The force of it hits me.

My heart reaches toward him as he leans closer and kisses me hard. I moan into his mouth. Teeth scraping his skin as he shoves my dress up my waist and fumbles his fly open.

“I would never hurt you, Kitten.” He vows against my throat as he sinks to his knees.

He parts me, shifts my thong. His tongue dips. Licks. Searches. Circles. Claims my clit.

“Chase...” I moan, my body opening helplessly, slick and already spilling for him.

My friend just died and my body still betrays me. My body still let's him do this to me. I feel so ashamed. I feel dirty. I feel like a monster, trying to ease my own torturous heart, when my friend just died in there. When those other girls are probably dead.

His tongue plunges, soaks my juices, while two fingers drive inside me.

My legs fall open. My hips buck. I grind into him, recoil, press back again. Each movement shooting heat through me.

“Chase… I’m gonna cum…”

He rises slowly.

“Not yet, Kitten. I want you soaking my cock when you do.”

He hooks my legs around his waist and thrusts inside me. Moving slowly. Both of us moving in sync. Despite my sorrow, I respond. I try to drown my pain, try to drown the horror of seeing those girls' plight. But it’s not enough. The images won’t leave me.

“Chase… Chase… please make me forget everything…” I sob against his shoulder, clinging to him.

His pace roughens.

“Make you forget what, Kitten?” He rasps. I shut my eyes, orgasm building hard, crushing.

“Tell me.” He demands. “Or I won’t let you cum.”

He stills.

I whimper, trying to move. He stops me. I reach for his mouth, he pulls back.

“Tell me.”

My eyes burn as I look at him.

“Make me forget… everything I’ve suffered...Everything I just saw in there.” I whisper.

Something changes in his face, as he watches me deeply. He crushes his mouth to mine and thrusts again. Harder and faster. My body convulses around him as I mewl. As I feel myself crash.

He locks me tight as he comes, a guttural cry releasing from him. Our breaths rip through the night. Then, against my hair, low and absolute, he speaks,

“I promise I’ll make you forget everything. But first, you’re going to tell me everything I need to erase.”

Blood drains from my face. How am I supposed to tell him what my father did to me? How am I supposed to tell him all my disgusting secrets.

Because if I tell him, he might do something dangerous.