Flogged

Nextday

The Cross family arrived at noon.

Richard and Margaret Cross didn’t come to see Elena. They came to see Damien. To make sure the marriage still looked solid on paper, to smooth over the merger, to smile for the press if needed. They brought Sophia with them, dressed in soft pink, eyes red-rimmed like she hadn’t slept in days.

Damien had given the order: “Lunch in the main dining room. Twelve sharp. No excuses.”

Elena was told at 11:45.

“You will sit at the table,” the housekeeper said quietly. “You will not speak unless spoken to. You will eat.”

Elena nodded.

When she walked into the dining room, her parents didn’t look at her. Margaret’s eyes slid right over her like she was part of the furniture. Richard gave a curt nod to Damien and sat down. Sophia sat beside him, clutching his arm like she needed protection from the air itself.

The meal started in silence.

Elena ate slowly, head down. She didn’t touch the wine. She didn’t reach for the bread. She chewed, swallowed, and counted the minutes until it was over. Her parents discussed stock prices, tax write-offs, the “unfortunate misunderstanding” with the press. Not once did they say her name.

When the last plate was cleared, Damien stood.

“That will be all.”

Elena stood too. It was automatic. In the east wing, she cleared her own dishes. Here, the staff would do it, but old habits didn’t die.

She reached for her plate.

“So will I,” Sophia said suddenly, her voice sweet and too loud.

Elena froze. Sophia was at her side a second later, carrying her own plate, smiling at Damien like she was being helpful.

“Let the staff handle it,” Damien said, but he was already distracted by his phone.

Elena and Sophia walked to the kitchen together.

The moment the kitchen door swung shut behind them, Sophia’s face changed.

The soft, tearful mask dropped.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Sophia hissed, voice low so only Elena could hear.

Elena set the plates down and didn’t answer.

“You’re still a mistake,” Sophia continued. “Dad only sent you because I said no. Mom cried for three days. And Damien still says my name when he’s asleep.”

Elena kept her hands on the counter. She wasn’t going to give her the reaction she wanted.

Sophia stepped closer, eyes gleaming.

“I’m going to make you cry, Elena. Right here. Right now.”

Her hand came up fast.

Elena caught her wrist before the slap landed. Her grip was tight, practiced. She’d learned to break holds in self-defense classes she took at 19, when she realized her family wouldn’t protect her.

Sophia gasped, furious.

“Let go of me!”

Instead of letting go, Elena twisted slightly, forcing Sophia’s arm down.

Sophia’s eyes darted to the knife block on the counter. Before Elena could stop her, Sophia grabbed a small paring knife and dragged it across her own forearm.

The cut wasn’t deep, but it was enough. Blood welled up, red against pale skin.

Sophia screamed.

It was a perfect, piercing sound.

The kitchen door burst open. Damien was first, followed by Richard, Marcus, and two guards.

Sophia was on the floor, sobbing, clutching her arm. Blood on the white tile.

“She attacked me!” Sophia cried, pointing at Elena. “She said if I told anyone, she’d kill me! She grabbed my hand and forced me!”

Elena’s hands were still in the air, empty.

“That’s not what happened,” she said quietly.

Damien didn’t look at her. His face was thunderous.

“Guards.”

Two men stepped forward.

“Take her,” Damien ordered. “Take her to the storage room. Strip her to her underwear. Flog her. Until she faints.”

Elena beg. Begging never worked with Damien when he was angry.

She looked at him once.

“You know I didn’t do it,” she said.

He didn’t answer.

The guards grabbed her arms. She didn’t fight them. Fighting would make it worse, and Sophia was already smiling through her tears.

They dragged her down the hall to the storage room. Cold concrete, no windows, a single overhead light.

They tore the dress off her. Left her in underwear and a camisole.

The first strike of the leather strap hit her back and stole her breath.

One. Two. Three.

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. She wouldn’t give Sophia that.

Four. Five.

S

Her knees buckled.

Six. Seven.

She screamed,droplet of cries on her face 

The room started to tilt.

Eight.

she heard  Sophia’s voice, soft and satisfied:

“See? I told you I’d make you cry.”

On her back, red welts crossed her skin.

Outside her door, she could hear Damien talking 

Elena closed her eyes and continue crying