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I inhale deep to scream again, as I do I catch it, Daddy’s scent. The same way I caught the woman’s scent—I recognize him. He’s giving me what I want. Now I understand what he meant about a scene. Even though I know it’s him, fear is high inside me at the way he’s handling me. There’s no care in his touch, the way there usually is even when he gets overexcited. Until he jostles my broken arm, he goes still.
Despite the fear, I don’t want him to stop. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m just a stupid slut, not worth your time. I swear I won’t tell anyone if you stop now.”
I’m thrown on the floor, he comes down on me. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear your lies.”
There’s no warning, no preparation at all, before he thrusts inside me. If I weren’t wet it would have hurt like hell. But I am wet. I’m so wet he slides all the way inside me until he’s home.
“Whore that you are, you’re going to come all over my cock, aren’t you? I feel your cunt swimming in your juice. Whores will take cock, any cock. All it wants is to be filled.”
“No!” I cry out as I catch his face with a smack. He laughs as he catches my hand. Now he’s angry, pounding in me hard and fast. Oh god, oh god, I’m coming.
I scream when I come, he bites down on my neck fiercely. The feel of him coming inside me sends another ripple of pleasure through me. I blink and he pushes off me. Before I can even process everything, he’s gone.
It didn’t matter how violent and scary it was, it was also everything I hoped it would be. My mind twists over today. I hurt Daddy with my fears and doubts, hurt him so badly he was afraid to stay for fear of hurting me.
Daddy’s hesitation over raping me was clear every time he mentioned it. I don’t doubt he didn’t want to do it. Yet he was so hurt he wanted to hurt me back. So he turned the hurt into anger, and once again used it to give me what my dirty cunt longed for. I blink and tears I didn’t know were there slide down my face.
This is fixable, right? If I’m a good girl, Daddy will forgive me. I will never doubt him again. I just need another chance.
Did I hurt him so badly he won’t give me another chance?
CHAPTER29
Aleksander
In the back of the car, I close my eyes against the sight of Phoenix on the floor, her dress torn, her hair a mess. And most important of all, floating in bliss from what I did to her.
Even angry with her, I hated hearing her screams of fear. I’m not certain when she figured out it was me, but I felt the change in her. When I hurt her arm, I nearly got up and walked away until her words stopped me. She wasn’t ready to stop playing. For her it was playing, the reason why I should have stopped was because it wasn’t a game for me.
I was only able to do what she asked in anger. And it didn’t matter what she said or did, she didn’t deserve it. For the last week I’ve worried her trauma response of a fawn would be to her detriment—unwilling to challenge me, her need to please a detriment for her own happiness. Yet the first time she does question me, I get pissed. It wasn’t even her I was angry at, it was myself.
I failed her all over again. She never should have been afraid me leaving her for a few hours would end with me touching another woman. Creating a world where she wanted and needed for nothing didn’t end outside our door. I thought I knew that. Except I missed one thing: it wasn’t only about giving her things, or my time. I couldn’t keep things from her.
Leaving her alone wasn’t the beginning of keeping things from her. I hadn’t told her men had come and gone already with the intent to kill her. The first man landed the evening I brought her to Swan house. He paid a visit to my club as a way of scouting in preparation. Four hours later he got back on the plane and cancelled the contract. Nearly the same thing happened with the second man: he lasted twelve hours in the city before he also ran and cancelled the contract.
For two days we held our breath. Today, an hour before our phone call to check in, another hitter arrived—this time with the son of the man who sent the hitter. His arrival meant the men were going to keep coming. It also meant we weren’t on the defensive anymore, we were going on the offensive. That included showing them what they wanted.
So I went out. I arrived at the brothel and stayed there for hours. I spent the whole damn time worried about Phoenix, watching her on the cameras once business was finished. We decided I would stay in the building for long enough they could scout their best position around it. After, I would go get Phoenix and bring her back into the city. They would see her, think we were going to the condo, but when they realized we weren’t going there they would separate, and one would almost certainly double back to the building.
I planned on taking her to the building, but not to see Karina. We were going to go into the parking garage, I would leave her in the car, go up to my office. Once I got the confirmation the men were captured I would send her home without me.
Nothing about the plan appealed. The idea of using Phoenix as bait only inspired violence in me. Yet, if we didn’t take control of the situation I wasn’t truly protecting her. Me hiding it from her left her in the dark of my thoughts and intentions. This was my own damn fault.
The men are waiting in the concrete room. I exhale at being able to inflict pain on someone who isn’t my wife. When I’m done with them, my men are going to use our plane to take the body of the son back to his country. They are going to dump his body on his father’s front door with a warning that everyone who carried the Levin name was untouchable. If they kept coming, everyone who bared his name would meet the same fate as his son—including his daughter and granddaughter.
Will it be enough to keep the man in check? I have no idea. My men will be remaining in the country for a few weeks with his beloved daughter and granddaughter in their sights in case he isn’t.
The hand on my shoulder restrains me. I find Milos studying me. “I think he’s dead.”
I blink and see why his tone is so dry. Yes, the man has been dead for some time. Shaking my head, I step back from what I’ve done.
It’s more than an hour later before Milos speaks again. I’m cleaned and changed into new clothes, sipping vodka in my office of the condo. I shouldn’t be here without her. Except I don’t even know what to say when I see her again.
“Problem at home?” He sips on his scotch.
“I hurt her. I left her afraid,” I mutter.
“A stumble will happen. You haven’t even made it to a month yet. Relationships are not so simple as meet, fall in love and live happily ever after. Even if Celia hadn’t wanted to run off to school for years, we would have had a painful first few months. As much as we love their fire, it’s the same fire that keeps them fighting. It takes some time for you both to adjust to not only living with someone else, but sharing with them the other half of you. All the things we don’t want them to see. Keeping it from her, we think protects her. To a certain extent it does—they don’t want to know any more than we want to tell them. At the same time, if they are agreeing to not know some things, there will be another level of fear of what is he not telling me?”
