“What does that mean?”
The guy beside him grins as I take in his features. Piercing blue eyes are fixed on my bare skin as he rakes his fingers through his soft, brown hair that’s swept back off his face. Hispinstripe navy suit is tailored to a higher standard than my father’s.
I don’t like the idea of that. Not when it’s clear he holds power of some kind.
My stomach churns as the stranger leans in close, dragging the tip of his finger from my exposed belly button, up between the valley between my breasts, before pressing at my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Show me your wonders, Angel.”
His voice is laced with desire and an air of expectation.
“Who are you?” I dare to ask as my father slams his hand against his arm, knocking his touch from my skin, and I slump in my chair, trepidation waning as I stare in awe at my father, protecting me for once.
“Until the transfer is complete, don’t touch the goods.”
The millisecond of relief is gone, terror doubling down as I blink at my father, pulse ringing in my ears as I repeat his words over and over again.
The man in question leans back, straightening the lapels of his blazer as he assesses me. “You’re going to have to confirm her powers first, Reginald. Otherwise, there won’t be a transfer,” he warns, and my stomach twists in knots.
I shake my head. “I don’t have powers,” I whisper, panicked as his eyes narrow and my father chuckles.
“In good time, Angel. We just need to lure it to the surface,” my father alludes, and my heart clenches.
Twisted with fear, tears still spilling from my eyes, I try to reason with him. “Father, I don’t have powers yet. They haven’t appeared,” I say softly, my hands curling around the arms of the chair, containing the rage and despair clinging to me.
I hear the slam of my father’s fist at the same time he thrusts it against the side of my head, tearing a sob from my lips as pain vibrates through my limbs. My face pulses with pain as I slumpto the side, helplessly bound and at their mercy as a snicker echoes around the room.
“Your attempts at beating her abilities out of her don’t seem to be working, Reginald.” The guy slips his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side as he rocks back on his heels.
I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking him from view as I try to quell the pain, but it’s lacing through my entire body, making it impossible to ignore.
“Don’t doubt me, Leonardo. I’ve dealt with one of these before, remember?”
My father’s words send a chill down my spine, prying my eyes open as I narrow my gaze on him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to question what he’s referring to, but that would mean remaining here, naked and bound against my will, and I need to get out of his hold. Instead, I try to plead with his paternal side.
“I’m sure whatever you want doesn’t require me like this. Untie me, and let me get dressed, then I’m sure we can figure out this misunderstanding.” My voice trembles despite my best effort, earning a cackle from my father’s friend as Reginald shakes his head.
“You’ll stay exactly where you are. If you don’t like the circumstances, help me help you and connect with your magic,” he retorts, confirming what I already knew: he doesn’t have a paternal side.
Liquid drips on my upper thigh, startling me as my gaze latches onto the crimson droplets running across my skin.
I’m bleeding.
At the hands of my father.
My nerve endings frazzle, reiterating the danger I’m in as my father’s friend sighs. He eliminates the distance between us, his hand coiling around my throat, capturing my breath as the chair tilts back, taking me with it.
“Give me what I want. Otherwise, I’ll start by ripping these from your damn hands.” His warning is matched with his free hand reaching for mine, his fingertips digging into my flesh as I scream.
Pain and panic consume me.
My father’s arm swings between us, attempting to interject, but it’s futile as the man’s touch grows more brutal.
“Release her, Leonardo. Once she’s yours, you can do as you please, but right now, she’s still mine, and you’ll do well to remember that,” my father threatens, and my heart aches as the situation becomes clearer.
Yet again, I’m at my father’s mercy, a bargaining chip in his life that holds value when I’m desired by others, offering him something in return that is worth more than me.
His daughter.
The man’s hand flexes, but to my surprise, he releases me; my throat and my breast. The chair slams against the floor as it returns to all four legs, and he strides off to the left, raking his hand through his hair.
