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“Yes, Sir,” he orders low.
“Yes, Sir,” I repeat.
“That little bastard. Stop pissin’ him off, will you? Give your brother some respect.”
I nod, too tired to pretend it’s my fault and not his. I’m glad he thinks Nate hits me because we don’t get along.
“You look disgusting,” he lies. A bruise on my face doesn’t take away any of my beauty, but it does take away the perfect image he wants of me. Mateo only gives me bruises I can hide, so others can’t see. He likes the privilege. He likes knowing a secret they don’t.
He gets up, walks around his desk. and settles against it right in front of me.
He pokes the bruise on my cheekbone and smiles when I wince in pain, as well as the sharp electricity it sends down my body. I watch with masochism how it brings joy to his face.
“You’re starting to like it, aren’t you?” he asks with that sick smile.
I look at my thighs. My hands grab my legs just above my knees and I squeeze tight. I watch my fingers whiten from the grip and release. Then I do it again, captivated. The escape begins. As I grow up, the lists become more complicated; they’re things ordinary people wouldn’t remember.
Nile, Amazon, Mississippi-Missouri-Red Rock, Chang Jiang…
“The pain. You’re starting to like it, princess, aren’t you?”
I shake my head, lying. “I hate it.” But something in me is starting to switch every time he hurts me. A sort of release I can’t explain.
He calmly reaches for my ponytail, wraps it around his fist and pulls until I have to get up and put myself close to him. He angles my head to the left and puts his lips against my ear.
“I want my wife to enjoy pain,Rose.”
My entire body freezes.
No.
Shivers after shivers run through my spine, and I start to tremble.
“You do understand, don’t you?”
“You’re my legal guardian,” I choke out. Surely even he couldn’t get away with that. You can’t marry your foster kid. You can’t…
Mateo always gets what he wants. He’s got the Cosa Nostra behind him. He’s got money and power. He’s got politicians and judges in his pocket.
“I won’t be your legal guardian when you turn eighteen. Why do you think I never adopted you and your pathetic brothers?”
My heart is beating so fast that my brain is flooded with all sorts of chemicals that make me dizzy.
“Mateo. You can’t do this. My life…it can’t be this.”
He pushes his thumb against my lips to shut me up. It works. The fear is drilled too deeply to do anything else but listen.
“You are such a smart girl. Can you hear the way you talk? The way you think?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep his words at bay.
“So beautiful, so smart. And all mine.” He tugs at my ponytail again and runs his fingers against the letters at the back of my neck. “Soon, we’ll be a family, you and me.”
The words he used to tell me as a kid come back, haunting me. I used to wish he was my dad, and his answer was always the same.‘I’m not your dad, but we’ll be family one day.’He always knew it would be as husband and wife.
He branded me, he groomed me, he made me like the pain. He broke me for everyone else, just so I would be perfect for him.
When I leave his office, I run back to my room. Sam is waiting on my bed. I jump in his arms, falling on him, and we both crash against the mattress. He’s sixteen, and his muscles are developing at an unstoppable rate. His big arms crush me against him, and I cry into his chest.
