I will win the race. I will be her new owner. But it has to be anonymous. My father can’t know, or he will kill me.
I signed up with a fake name after my father mentioned it, sent in the money and ordered a new motorbike, one that he won’t suspect belongs to me.
I’m prepared to win the race, I’ve done this for as long as I can remember. I know everything about motorbikes, so the thought of me losing doesn’t even enter my mind.
I step into my bathroom,the green tiles and earthen tones wrap around me, and I feel rooted.I look at myself in the mirror, hating the fact that I look just like him.
I hate how happy she looked to see who she thought was him, only for it to be replaced by confusion and disappointment when she realized that it wasn’t.
Reaching for my toothbrush, I try my best to ignore how hard my cock is, and how desperate I am to touch myself. But unlike Matheo, I have something called self control.
The picture of him fucking her, probably for his own sake, flashes before my eyes. And in an instant, anger washes over me. Before I get the chance to think, I’m already on my way back to the concrete room, needing to be close to her and feel her presence again.
I open the door quietly, careful of making any sounds. The lights are turned off, and she’s sleeping on the old mattress I hate seeing her on. I grab the chair and place it beside her before sitting down.
I stare like a creep, exactly like I’ve done through her window for the past years.She’s beautiful.That’s what I’ve always thought. But up close like this, she’s fucking majestic.
I won’t be able to sleep, I already know that for a fact. So I stay. I stay by her side, watching hereven though I shouldn’t. I’m not allowed to, my father has been very clear about it. But I don’t care.
I’ve wanted her since the first time we saw each other. She was five and I was seven, and my mother was still alive. We visited her house back when we weren’t enemies yet. We played while our parents talked. But I’m sure she thinks that was Matheo and not me. But it was me,I was there first.
Matheo didn’t get to come, he was too unstable and not trustworthy. My parents didn’t trust him to come with us, too scared he would cause a scene. He has always been like that, and he still is. Unpredictable and puts on characters to blend in, but it’s all fake.
The second Anastasia turned eighteen, he left us behind, and the first person he contacted was Tim, her father. Of course he did. He knew it would make my father rage. Not only for being close to his enemy, but fucking his daughter too.
It was his plan all along, but Anastasia has no idea. I bet her father hasn’t even told her about who the enemies are, and that Matheo and I are both part of the bloodline. She thinks my brother is genuine, she thinks he cares about her. But he has only ever stayed there to make sure my father burns every time he hears his name. And to rip my soul into pieces, of course.
My father rarely looks at me. He can’t, because all he sees is his other son. It’s not easy for me having to look just like the person I hate. Matheo always hated that I was considered better, stronger.Hotter.A smirk forms on my lips.
I reach down to brush her blonde hair out of her face with my fingertips, needing to feel her against my skin. Anastasia doesn’thave to worry. I’ll take care of her, better than Matheo or anyone else ever could.
Chapter 5
Anastasia
I wake up exhausted as the light flickers on and two men grab my arms, carrying me into a long corridor filled with doors. My eyes don’t get the chance to adjust to the light before they’re covered by fabric, leaving me unable to see.
My head is spinning and hurting like it’ll explode any second. I want to smash it into a wall but that would only make it worse. All I want is to go home, lie down in my bed and be taken care of by Matheo.
As my senses return, I kick and scream in hope that they’ll let me go. But what scares me the most is that no one answers nor reacts. The hands on me only grip tighter, hurting me.
I try to forcemyself to calm down, to keep the little energy I have left, but anxiety decides to wash over me instead.It’s really happening. I will be sold to a pig, I will be tortured and used for the rest of my life.
Vomit fills my mouth and I throw up, the fabric above my head being removed in an instant. I keep moving in and out of consciousness, hearing men talk but not understanding a single word.
Feeling someone taking a hold of my body and carrying me, I’m not able to take in my surroundings. “Do you have to complicate everything? Stupid woman.” It’s a man’s voice.
My eyes fly open, but disappointment is the only thing I feel as the man before me is not Matheo, and not...Brian. His eyesare brown and his hair is silver. He looks disgusted as he takes me in, all the way from top to bottom.
I look around, my eyes darting everywhere in the room in an attempt to avoid hisgaze. I find myself in a bathroom, white walls and tilefloor. It’s clean and minimalistic, looking like a mix of luxury and a mental hospital. Unease spreads through me instantly, and the longing for my own pink and golden bathroom only grows.
“In the future, you’ll behave!” The man slaps me.
My hands land on my cheek as tears flood my eyes, the burning sensation spreading over half my face. He just hit me. I feel my eyes darken. He should be glad there’s nothing sharp nearby.
He points toward the small bathtub before us, “undress and wash yourself. I need you to be fresh and clean for the race.” His voice is direct and demanding.
I find his dark eyes, but I don’t speak up, I don’t have the courage to with this one. Everything in my body tells me to listen for once, so I do.
