Eleanor's POV
I thought I had seen the worst of Bianca's ruthlessness and wickedness when she forced me to lick her shoes in that disgusting bathroom. Yes she told me to lick her shoes, she forced my mouth on the tile, I licked poo and a lot of disgusting things.
As soon as she finished dripping in my humiliation, she seized my hair and dragged me through the mansion, ignoring my protests and my shivering body as I stumbled on the icy floors with my bare feet, She really made me suffer.
"You're not finished yet, whore," she spat, pulling me into her big bedroom. "You have something else to clean for me."
I was nearly too weak to stand, yet I forced myself to move, pain running through me with every step. When we reached her room, she flung the door open and pushed me inside.
The disgusting odor of blood hit me immediately.
Then I saw it.
A heap of dirty clothes is on the floor, dark stains of dried menstrual blood staining the fabric.
My stomach twisted violently, the smell was just too disgusting.
Bianca crossed her arms, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Clean these."
I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "Please… don’t."
Her smile broadened. "Oh, don’t think you can beg, Sinclair." Grabbing one of the drenched, dirty garments, she pressed it to my face before I could react.
The smell soaked into my skin, the fowl scent on my nostrils. I shook, my body sneezing as vomit formed in my throat.
"You wanted to be part of this family, didn't you?" she mocked, leaning in closer. "Prove it."
I gasped for breath, shaking, tears burning my eyes. But she wasn’t finished yet.
She grabbed my chin, forcing my mouth open.
Then she stuffed the bloodied pants inside my mouth, inside my f*cking mouth, and I was forced to taste her menstrual blood.
The taste of blood flooded my senses and reasoning, I couldn't think straight. my life seems to be falling apart, blood so thick and dirty. My stomach turned in horror, my body shaking as I struggled against her grip, but she held me there, shaking softly as I fought to breathe.
"Swallow it," she said.
I tried harder, my eyes rolling back in disgust, but finally, with some mercy, she yanked it out and pushed me to the floor like trash.
"You are absolutely disgusting," she said, wiping her hands on her expensive dress. "Now, wash them all. If I see a single stain, you’ll wish you hadn’t."
Then she shut the door behind her, leaving me there on my knees, shaking, shattered, pained. I cried, hot tears coming from my eyes.
And for the first time in ages…I wished I were dead.
******
After what felt like forever of scrubbing and washing, my hands weak and shaking like dead leaves, I finally left Bianca’s room. My body ached from exhaustion and pain, and my stomach twisted with hunger and terror, but I forced myself to move, desperate for the tiny servants’ quarters where I could finally catch my breath, maybe.
But fate had other ideas. As I turned the corner, I collided with them. Sienna and Camille. Kieran’s sisters.
And the instant their cold look locked onto me, I knew I was about to endure a different kind of torment and suffering.
"Well, well," Sienna said, crossing her arms. "Look at the sad little rat trying to sneak past us."
Camille wrinkled her nose. "Gross, she smells. Did you crawl out of a dumpster, Sinclair?"
I dropped my gaze, holding my dress to keep my hands from trembling. "Please… I just want to leave" A sharp slap interrupted me.
I gasped, my head snapping to the side as pain exploded across my cheek.
Camille tsked, shaking her head. "Who told you that you could speak?"
Sienna laughed, stepping closer. "You really thought you could just leave in this house without consequences?" Grabbing my chin, she forced me to look at her. "You’re nothing, Sinclair. Just a filthy little bastard our brother picked up for entertainment."
I tried to pull away, but her grip tightened.
"Where do you think you’re going?" Camille taunted. "We’re not finished with you."
Before I could react, she threw her sandal at me.
It struck my mouth with such force that I immediately tasted blood.
Pain radiated through my jaw, warm liquid coming down my lips as I collapsed onto the cold floor.
The sisters giggled happily, watching me struggle.
"This is just the beginning," Sienna whispered, standing beside me. "Soon, you’ll wish you had never been born."
Then, like Bianca, they walked away, leaving me bleeding, trembling, and utterly destroyed.
*****
I wasn’t given a moment to rest.
That night, a lavish party took place at the mansion. And I was forced to attend.
Dressed in an elegant gown that wasn’t mine, my bruises barely covered by layers of makeup, I stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, feeling like an outcast in a world that would never accept me.
I tried to blend into the background. But they wouldn’t let me.
As soon as I thought I might catch my breath, Bianca’s voice sliced through the air, filled with feigned innocence.
"Lady Lancaster, I believe I found something… interesting."
All eyes turned toward her as she displayed something small and delicate: a sapphire-studded necklace.
A necklace I had never seen before. Bianca smirked and then turned to me.
"It was found in her room." A collective gasp ran through the hall.
Lady Lancaster’s expression twisted with fury and anger. "You stole from me?" I stepped back, shaking my head in panic. "I didn’t"
"Liar!" The slap came so fast and hot.
Before I could process what was happening, my head swung to the side, my ears ringing from the impact. My body was shaking, and the taste of blood filled my mouth.
But what happened next…
Shattered me. Because it wasn’t just Lady Lancaster who punished me. It was him. Kieran.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he slapped me too, a very hot slap. The force sent me tumbling, my body crashing onto the floor.
The room became silent. Pain ran through me, deep and unbearable. Then
A sharp, painful twist in my abdomen. A sensation so terrible that my body froze.
An overwhelming blood flow spread between my legs, slow and painful.
Then I saw it. Red. Dark. Pooling beneath me.
My hands shaking as they reached for my stomach, realization striking me like a cruel twist of fate.
No. No, no, no Gasps filled the room. Murmurs of confusion and horror.
But all I could hear was my own heartbeat, pounding violently in my skull. Then came the voice. Urgent. Panicked. Kieran.
"Eleanor!" But it was too late. Because the last sensation before darkness consumed me…Was loss….
ELEANOR SINCLAIR She thought the phone would never be answered.The phone rang once, twice, and on the third ring, the voice, silky and smooth but with a cutting edge of malice, answered with a friendly tone. “I knew you'd call back, Eleanor.”“What do you want from us?” Eleanor's voice came out as a torn whisper, a shadow of her usual voice. Jenny watched curiously, holding the baby as she clenched the phone tighter in her hand, her knuckles white.“Oh, darling, that's the easiest question of all. I love that you are far smarter than your knucklehead husband and your foolish sister.”“What do you want?” Eleanor asked again.“I want what's mine.”“I don't know what you're talking about. What are you saying?”A low laugh, devoid of humor, flowed over the line. “Don't play smart, Eleanor. You should know perfectly well what I'm speaking about. If not, then you should probably be able to guess what it is that I want…”“No. I can't guess.”“I should be a bit more specific, then. Your h
ELEANOR SINCLAIR Night had fallen when Eleanor at last settled into their bed. The house was so quiet that the only sounds were the soft rhythmic whir of the air conditioner and the quiet sucking sounds that told of feeding from her son. Again, she thought of Damian and how the last few hours had been a blur of taut phone calls and unsent texts to him. Her heart had the old, sick hurt, a sensation that had been her loyal companion since the day she'd met him. She had worried about him and the evil life he led, and now she was even more bothered that she pushed him back. As soon as he left the house that afternoon, she had felt it even without knowing that he had gone, and a shiver of ominous dread settled in her stomach. It was the feeling of everything going terribly awry for him. She called him immediately to ask him to come back home, but his phone went to voicemail. She called his men too—those of them she knew and long dreaded, but they did not know where he was. So had the
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD It was even darker when Damian opened his eyes. He woke up to a throbbing headache, while the rough texture of stone scraped against his cheek. Groaning, he pushed himself up, his muscles protesting with a dull ache as he saw that he was in some kind of cellar or dungeon. The walls were made of rough-hewn stone, slimy with moisture, and the only source of light was a single, flickering bulb on the far wall. The light cast dancing shadows that made the cramped space feel even tighter. “So that bitch got me,” he growled to himself. His head swam with the memory of the prick of the needle, the burning sensation, and Cassandra's cruel, mocking laughter. He cursed himself for being a fool, for walking into her trap, alone. He had been arrogant, blinded by his rage and the need to protect his family. He should have listened to his instincts, brought his men, and come prepared for a war, not this pathetic little skirmish. Now, he was at her mercy, and alone. He stu
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD Damian didn't sleep a wink the previous night.But he was more rested this time. Eleanor's forceful treatment did the wonders, and now his eyes were not tired anymore. It was just that it was more difficult for him to sleep, so he remained awake, watching.It was already morning when one of his soldiers arrived with a drone that they had shot down, and the drone carried a letter with it:"I think the time has now come when you should understand what it is that I want.And I wish to see you and talk about it. But whatever you may do, take care of your wife and child, for if I am not well pleased, I shall take them in my charge also. If you wish to view me, then visit me at the garage at 5:30PM and with no men. There is no need for them.With love,—Lena.”Damian snarled and tore the paper apart in a rage of raw indignation, his teeth clashing so hard together he felt the stinging for the audacity of the woman. He had never even heard the name, and already she was thr
CASSANDRA JACOBS So she had three targets.First was Ailean… whatever his surname was, and whether he could be called her stepson. No—she was never married to Vincent, and they never held each other to any bonds of exclusivity or marriage. They were just friends who liked to have sex and sex parties and sex orgies with each other until Vincent fell in love with her and wrote it in a final letter.She pitied the little boy, indeed.It was one thing to be born to a woman like his mother—foolish, poor, and willing to do anything for money (she was not an exemption, but from what she knew, Helen-Nora was the foolish kind that did anything for money, without cunning or smarts), and it was another thing to be so hated by his father that he would try to kill him, and not just on one try. He was now somewhere in one of Vincent's hiding places, clean shaven and emaciating next to his mother. Sometimes, she wondered how best to let them die—to kill them outright or to let their hunger finally
CASSANDRA JACOBS She had believed him.That was her mistake.She had done it so much that she waited, but he never returned. And no soothsayer needed to tell her something was wrong when she had not heard from him hours after their last phone call, not with how panicked his voice had sounded when he had not returned as he said he would that night. It was the first time she ever heard him talk like that. With fear. Then she heard of his death. It was from one of his men who had come to see her, sent by him. Cassandra did not cry. He had not been constant enough, and she never felt pain when she heard of another death. Yet, it had hurt her eyes and she had simply closed her eyes and let the rage consume her. The father of her child and the only man who knew who she was had now gone. Oh, how she had deceived herself to think it meant nothing. Vincent had been a ghost in life—her life— one who came and went, but his death, the one thing she was not prepared for, because she never im