Abel
“Here,” Father huffed, grabbing the contract papers from the attorney and sliding them across the Lucite glass table in our midst. I lifted my gaze to meet his harsh, unyielding eyes. “Quit looking at me and sign the damn papers already. We've got a lot of other things to get to.”I nodded nervously, skimming over the papers quickly, my pen poised over the signature line. It would be fatal to defy my father. Norman Stravkos was a no nonsense man. The head of a powerful underground Mafia gang. A pesky drug lord that evaded the hands of the law like sudden lightening. His word was law, and his actions — unbred chaos.Taking in a deep breath, I scribbled my signature down on the contract papers, pressing so hard that the track of my signature left a groove on the sheet of paper. Setting the pen down, I slid the papers across the table. Only this time, I wasn't passing it to my father but her.Solana.Guilt spiked in my veins as I braved myself to look at her briefly before turning away. I felt, more than saw her through my peripheral vision as she lifted big, beautiful blue, frightened eyes at me. There were tear streaks at the corners and her face was beeping red. Since we got here, all she'd done was cry silently.She wrenched her gaze from me, glancing down sadly at the collected, official documents that would bind her to me forever. Documents that would make her mine. I wasn't sure of what would be running through her mind as she stared hard at the papers. Perhaps she was trying to make sense of this. Of what had just happened. Of a cold, cruel fate that had been decided for the both of us — our consents be damned.Then she looked up again, this time directly at her father. Amidst the burning rage, betrayal and the billion-dollar question why he was putting her through this misery, I detected a new emotion swirling in her reddened eyes. Grief, and a plea. A silent one. She stared at him as though he was a different man. A stranger, not her loving father.But Williams kept his eyes lowered, his head bent forward in defeat. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. To watch her cry. I knew that this was a guilt that would haunt him to the grave. Giving his beloved daughter away to ensure peace. A debt settlement.I was mad at him, but more pissed at my father. For being this cruel. For going this far in his quest for revenge and dominance. Was it worth her life? Was it worth ruining her dreams? Was it worth ruining mine as well? Surely, I could never accomplish as much as I used to while single, now that I was saddled with a new responsibility. A new trophy.A wife. One I didn't want. One that, I was sure, would hate me for life.Solana sucked in a shaky breath, cleaning her eyes aggressively. How could everyone be so oblivious, so unfeeling towards her pain? Towards her sorrow, which was painfully heart wrenching? I could see the way her chest heaved, the way she tried, unsuccessfully, to shake off this absurdity and keep a straight face. Her hand shook as she lifted up her pen, meeting my gaze once more. One last plea. One last begging for me to put an end to this, but I was as helpless as she felt. At last she gave up, struggling against the tears that threatened to spill onto her already stained cheeks.I was numb. Here I was, a first-hand witness to an innocent girl's pain, an innocent girl's plight and all I could do was stare. It felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience. That I wasn't really sitting here. That I wasn't involved in this mess.“Sign, already.”My Father's steel-like voice, coupled with his command made her shiver, and she turned to him. I watched their gazes collide — one filled with sorrow and tears, and the other brimming with truimph and happiness.“We won't spend all day on this.”Norman Stravkos was indeed a man of few words. To call him domineering and difficult was simply putting things mildly. His expressionless stare alone was enough to make grown men, higher than him in rank and riches tremble.In case you guessed right, there was no one, no one at all in New York that could match his wealth and multi-national chains of enterprises, the latter which was a fine cover for his drug dealing escapades.But Solana wasn't one of those cowardly men. I watched her gaze harden, her chin jutting out in defiance to his order.Feisty.Her father came to the rescue. “Sign the papers, Solana. Please.”She didn't spare anyone as much as a glance after that. Quietly, she pressed the pen to the paper and signed her name — Solana Chloe Williams — on the dotted line adjacent to mine. She handed it over to the attorney, and the septuagenarian applied a seal to the sheets, before standing and exiting the room.I slouched back on my seat, a chalky taste in my mouth. It was official. Decided. Done with.Solana was mine.My father stood, giving me a glaring once over that suggested that he wasn't pleased with my conduct, and strode out of the room. His two right-hand men followed him closely.“Do you need a few minutes to bid your family goodbye?” I asked, hoping that she would see that I wasn't as uptight like my father.“No. I don't,” she barely looked at her father who still sat like a statue with his hands in my hands. Pushing her chair back, she stood, her plush pink gown that was now wrinkled, due to sitting for too long, falling over her thighs. She kept her hands by her sides, curling them to fierce little fists.“All's been done, and I'm ready to leave now.”“Alright.” I nodded, gesturing to the waiting men. She didn't wait for him to lead the way, but hurried ahead of him, as though he was escorting her to her execution. I took one last fleeting glance at her father, then at the clear glass table, the wrinkles on the leather chair where we'd all sat, taking a girl against her own will. It was all so shameful.But I knew it could've been much worse for her. If it had gone the way my father had wanted, then there was no saving her. She would do much more than just cry. She would tear at her hair and wish she had never been born.Norman Stravkos' cruelty was that stifling.I'd done more than saving her. I didn't intend to treat her harshly, either, now she was my wife. So why did I feel so sore? Which did I feel like a monster? A spineless idiot?I sauntered out of the room, riding down to the lobby, all the while wiping my eyes. My throat felt tight, and there were heavy knots in my stomach. I needed fresh air. I needed a distraction. Anything at all to clear my head.Walking out the entrance door onto the cozy Manhattan sidewalk, I clambered onto my waiting SUV wordlessly. The driver knew just where to take me, and a few minutes later, he pulled up in front of Evie's house. My mistress never expected any of my visits, but she was ever ready to satisfy me. I knocked on the door, twice, and she opened it — donning on my favourite black miniskirt and a spaghetti strap top.“Well, hello darling,” she drawled, her fake Southern accent making my ears throb as she pulled me in for a hug. I wrapped my arms loosely around her waist, capturing her lips. She tasted like strawberry, and a little something more. “How did the meeting go? Was it successful?”“I don't want to talk about it,” I said stiffly, walking into the living room of her small apartment. Plopping down on a sofa, I shut my eyes and tried not to remember the fright in Solana's eyes as she lay, bound and spread out on the floor before me, with the Irish doctor probing her, and confirming that she was intact.I'd sat there watching, and at one time I raised my voice at the doctor when her muffled screams became unbearable, urging him to go easy on her. Did that make me a little less guilty? A little more humane?But I was aroused, my cock threatening to burst out of my straps.She cried a lot. Each teardrop that slipped down the corner of her eyes made my collar tighten around my neck, made my head burn, my eyes water. I'd forced myself not to hear the sounds, not to react to my father's harsh, insensitive words, her shallow breathing as she sought to remain quiet.I'd sat there through it all.I deserved whatever nefarious opinion she was of me right now. I was a devil. A cold-blooded monster. A puppet. Because when I finally willed myself to look at her, to meet those sea-blue eyes that were disarming, I saw the plea in them. A cry for help.In her darkest hour, she'd sought my help, but I turned my back on her.Her father began crying when he realized the full cost he'd agreed to; the payment of the debt he couldn't wiggle out of alone.Her life for his. Hers for theirs.Norman Stravkos was that evil, but it didn't absolve her father from blame. He was a coward. A selfish man and a deadbeat father. He should have done anything, everything within his power to protect her. He should have given up his life for hers. He was her protector for fuck's sake.I sucked in a breath, blindly reaching out for the glass of wine Evie held out for me. I downed it in one go.“More.” I growled.She did as I asked, pouring me a second glass. And one more after that. And one more till I couldn't feel my feet anymore. Yet, the alcohol did nothing to wipe that scenario from my mind. Her big sea-blue eyes, frightened. Terrified.“I know what would make you feel better,” Evie chirped, sinking to her knees before me. I widened my legs to accommodate her, sighing as she whipped out my cock from my pants gradually. She mouthed a few words — words I couldn't catch, thanks to the pounding in my head and took my already hard cock into her mouth.I exhaled, grabbing a handful of her mousy brown hair for support, and closed my eyes, letting her do her work, taking me deep into her throat. But she was too gentle tonight, handling me like a delicate glass you that could break. I didn't want gentle.I needed more.Standing, I tightened my grip around her hair, squeezed my eyes shut against the image of Solana sprawled helplessly on that table and fucked her face until she choked on my dick, tears streaming down her cheeks. I came harder than ever, groaning as I emptied down her throat. But surprisingly, my release didn't make me feel any less guilty. I still felt bad, still felt dirty, and frankly, perhaps I deserved my prickly conscience. I'd allowed it happen. I'd sat by and did nothing, when I had the power to help.Even though it could've costed me my life, still I should've helped some more.Now she was mine.And she wouldn't stop loathing me till the day she breathed her last.SolanaSix years later.Tuscany, ItalyThe last time I'd been in church was when I was a baby. My parents were not religious, but Mother had wanted me to have a baptism. It was held in this same cathedral, and Mother told me how proud she felt holding me close to her bosom as she followed the priest to the altar. How afraid, yet confident, that Father walked beside her. How a massive crowd of friends and business associates had turned out, just for me.I would always be her favourite child. Always.Shortly after my baptism, my father tended his resignation letter to Steele Corp — the app developing company he'd worked in for thirty solid years, and struck out on his own, with the help of Norman Stravkos; who became his new master. He stopped going to church, started sleeping around town with girls, and treated my mother like shit. All for the money. All for the fame. All for the glory. All for everything that would ruin him and his generations to come.Today, as I followed his casket
SolanaI straightened, masking my grief briefly behind a wall of indifference before letting my gaze travel up his face. Mother had taught me how to hide my feelings well over the years. She was always at the door whenever Father came back late from work with stuffy excuses of being stuck with traffic or intentionally staying back to finish up some files that had to be turned in the next day. She'd smile, and pat his shoulder as though in understanding. But when he took his clothes off in the bedroom, I watched her sniff them for the faintest smell of a cologne different from his. Her eyes would water, but she'd blink them off the minute she saw me looking. She'd toss the clothes aside and crouch with a million-dollar smile that never seemed to reach her eyes if you knew her well enough.She was the strongest woman I'd ever seen. The strongest.My heart clanged hard against my chest, as I inhaled in shallow, breathy intakes. Time seemed to slow down, the world tilting, a splash of bla
SolanaI didn't speak with my mother. Verbally though. But I could feel her eyes as they followed me about, the grief in them shinning so bright, it was heart wrenching to meet her gaze as I faced Abel Montes, the new Lord of my life. She'd been against the idea of caving in to Norman Stravkos' outrageous demands, stating that she'd already lost a daughter and couldn't lose the other. But her words hadn't been reasonable. Surely, the contract I'd signed together with Abel would hold no water in any court of law, but I very well knew the consequences if I hadn't signed it. If I'd ran away, just like Helen had done. They would all pay with their lives — and Norman Stravkos would hunt me to the ends of the earth. He wouldn't rest until he'd successfully eliminated every single member of the Williams family.Every single one of them.I swallowed hard, turning slightly to glance at Helen and her son again. At Mother, my uncles and cousins. At the family I'd grown up in. The people who nurt
AbelI stared at Solana. At the way she sat up straight, her slender shoulders sharp, her eyes defiant black slits, her chin jutting upwards, and I recoiled, stunned.I'd never seen anything like this. I'd never seen any woman quite like her.Courageous. Strong. Defiant.She would back down for no one. She would fight tooth and nail, and would always get what she wanted. Even if she was afraid. She would not give in to fear no matter what.Up until today, I didn't know a single thing about her. I underestimated her — thinking she was one of those quiet ladies who was foolishly obedient to a fault, and had no willpower of their own. Who cowered at my father's commands, but silently resented him. But she proved that she was different. She didn't hide her resentment. She didn't let his cruelty — I'd heard the insensitive words he'd whispered about her father — weigh her down. She'd challenged him head on, not minding if it costed her life.No one had ever bounced back to my father like t
Abel“You know how it feels to lose a loved one?” Her tone was sharp, and the bitter laugh that followed, even sharper. “Well, newsflash: my father and I were the farthest thing from close. I made a vow to loathe him forever, for selling his daughters off to a rival. I don't need your sympathy, Abel. If I wanted that, I might as well hang myself.”I swallowed hard, unable to look away from her — my shirt collar suddenly felt so tight, my black coat stiff around my pits, my eyes watering.I didn't dare speak. I couldn't. It felt as though my vocal cords had all suddenly gone numb.“I keep wondering though if you really know what it feels like as you claim. To be suddenly separated from the people who gave you life and brought you up? To watch them look at you from a few metres off, helplessly afraid to come speak or console you because they're guilty for what's not even their faults?”That, I had no idea what if felt like. I didn't know it bothered her so much; not speaking to the rest
AbelThe funeral rounded off by evening time, and everyone was too exhausted to do anything, let alone travel back home. We stayed back in Tuscany, sharing a suite of rooms — my bedroom was right next to Solana's and the walls were thin so I could very well hear whatever she was up to in her room. Our flight to New York left early the next day, and Solana would move into my mansion. She's finished her studies and graduated with the overall best result, and now that she'd turned twenty-three, it was time for her to step into her role as my wife. My possession.Mine.It was a minute past seven when I knocked softly on her door to announce my presence. I was clutching a stainless tray containing her dinner. I knew she was completely gutted by the event that took place today, and as a kindness, I'd ordered a kitchen staff to bring her food upstairs. The scent of the food made my stomach rumble now as I stood in the corridor, waiting for her to open the door. Left alone for me, I wouldn't
Abel“I...” I swallowed hard, rolling off her and turning away from her momentarily to adjust my pants properly. “This isn't what you think it is. Fuck...”“I don't care. Leave my room this instant.”I groaned, running my hand through my hair, and staring hard at her. “Goodness. Why do you have to be so difficult?”“Difficult?” She echoed incredulously, sitting up. “I'm being difficult, Abel? Me? How am I being difficult?”“Solana, that's not what I — ”Her eyes hardened. “I'll tell you what's difficult. Do you know what's difficult? Being separated from your family at the tender age of sixteen. Do you know what's difficult? Constantly turning your father's plea for forgiveness when you know whatever happened was beyond his power and he'd never voluntarily give you away like that, but you just feel it's easier to hate him. Do you know what's difficult? Losing touch with your family members and watching them still suffer even after being a sacrificial lamb for their sake. And do you wa
SolanaAbel's attempt to understand my hurt came as an unexpected surprise to me. Even though we were now married, I knew I meant nothing to him. I knew how much he loved his space. I knew how irritated he felt towards me for sharing that same space. For being a part of his life, and so, therefore, I'd expected cruelty. Snide remarks, shouting at any slight provocation, hatred... I'd expected all of it. But this, this kindness? This shocking concern...was any of it genuine at all? Was it borne out of pity? Did he really care? I didn't like it. I wanted him to hate me just like the rest, not care for me.And what was that sizzling heat that pooled between my legs when he held me down? My body had never betrayed me until today. Until that very moment. I made a mental note to avoid every circumstance where he'd be anywhere close to me. I couldn't trust my body around him at all.When I heard his footfalls recede down the hallway, I turned around, zeroing in on the tray of food he'd kept