Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

I belong to myself. Not to him. Not to anyone. Nobody will ever own me again. I won't let them. I can't go back to that. He doesn't own me.

Please, God, tell me he isn't like those other men…

Looking up at Marcel, I can see the questions in his eyes. They've been there for a while but he's never asked, and I've been thankful for that. I wasn't ready to tell him about my past. Honestly, I'm not sure I'm ready to tell him now either. Except some part of me feels like I either have to tell him or ask him to leave and never come back.

It's not fair for me to put him in this position. He's standing at the end of the bed, staring back at me. I know he's waiting… for something. I just don't know what it is.

I close my eyes and let out a sigh. When I open them again, he's still looking at me. "I'm sorry."

"What did I do? What did I say that triggered you?" he asks.

I shake my head. I can't tell him. He's not going to want anything to do with me if I do. If I tell him the truth. After I told Flynn, everything changed. He couldn't handle it. Who could?

Marcel slowly moves onto the bed, crawling over the mattress until he's right in front of me. My knees are drawn up, my arms wrapped around them. Taking my hands in his, he squeezes once, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Whatever it is, I need to know so I don't do it again," he says. "I never want to do something that you don't want."

"I'm sorry," I repeat.

"I'm gonna hedge a guess it was the ownership thing?" He lifts a questioning brow.

I nod and stare at our joined palms again. Marcel pulls his hand free and uses it to tilt my chin upwards until my eyes meet his. "They were just words, Zoe. I don't physically own you. You can't own a human."

"You can actually," I admit.

"What do you mean?"

I don't know what I'm doing, why I feel like I just need to tell him my story. Maybe it'll make him leave me, and then I won't have to worry about trying to be good enough for him.

"I was owned. When I was seventeen, my father owed some people— some very bad people —a lot of money. He didn't have it, so he gave me to them instead. As payment. The men then auctioned me off to recoup their losses, I guess. And I was… Well, someone bought me. I was owned… and he…" My heart races. My eyes burn. I can't keep going. I shake my head and skip to the end. "Mikhail and Izzy found me. They saved me."

"Zoe, I'm sorry that happened to you. I really fucking am. No one should ever go through something like that. If those fuckers were still alive, I'd end them. But something tells me Mikhail and Izzy got to them first," Marcel says, his voice calm. So eerily calm.

I nod. "They're all dead. They can't find me anymore. But I can't go back to that. I don't want to be owned. By anyone. Ever."

"That's never going to happen to you again, Zoe. I won't let it." Marcel picks me up, settling me on his lap before his lips press to my forehead. "I promise I won't ever let anything happen to you."

"You can't promise that. You can't control the world," I tell him, and he grins.

"Watch me."

I climb off his lap and off the bed, walking into my bathroom. Where I grab the robe from the back of the door, shoving my arms through the sleeves and wrapping the soft fabric around myself. "It's okay if you want to leave. You don't have to stay," I say as soon as I walk back out to the bedroom.

"You want Chinese or pizza?" he asks, ignoring the easy out I just gave him.

"What?"

"For dinner, Chinese or pizza?"

"Pizza?" I reply, though I can hear the question in my voice. I'm still confused as to what is going on right now, why Marcel isn't running for the hills.

"Great. Pick a movie. I'll order the food." He taps the empty side of the bed, his way of telling me to join him.

I really don't know how I found this guy, or why he's being so understanding of my issues. I get I probably can't keep him, but I'd sure like to.

"Oh, by the way, we're having dinner at my house tomorrow night, with my brother and El. She's, ah, been through a lot lately and I figured a family dinner will do them good. And truth is, it's probably about time you met them," Marcel says casually.

I stare at him, open-mouthed. "You want me to meet your family?"

"Yes." That's all he gives me. No further explanation.

"What if… I don't know, Marcel. I can't control when I'm going to freak out."

"First of all, you don't freak out, babe. It's your body's reaction to a past traumatic event. Completely normal. Second, I couldn't give a fuck if you did. I'll be there, and if you need to leave, I'll get you out of there so fast your head will spin. Now, pick a movie, and don't overthink it. It's just dinner."

Just dinner. It's not just dinner, though. It's meeting the family.

I'm nervous, but that's to be expected, right? Meeting the family for the first time isn't the easiest thing I've ever had to do. It's not the hardest either. But I want Marcel's family to like me. I never had a huge family growing up. It was always just my mother, my father, and me. They didn't have a bunch of relatives—well, none that I knew of.

Now, I have Mikhail and Izzy. The whole Valentino/Petrov clan. Although they didn't have much choice when it came to accepting me or not. I think they're all afraid of what Izzy would do to them if they didn't.

A man who looks just like Marcel, except crankier, walks in first. Followed by another man and then a woman. I'm gathering the last to enter are Gio and Eloise. Marcel's eldest brother has that presence around him that screams boss . I've met enough of them now to know it. It's the woman who has my skin going cold, though.

"Everyone, this is Zoe. Zoe, this is everyone," Marcel says.

"Hi, I'm El. It's so great to meet you," the woman says with a small, tight smile. Forced or pained. From the looks of her, maybe a bit of both.

I can't stop staring at her. Someone's hurt her. How is she standing here pretending she's okay with her face covered in bruises?

"Hi. Zoe. Can you… ah… show me to the bathroom?" I introduce myself while my thoughts are going a million miles an hour, trying to figure out a way to get her away from the men in this room.

Eloise looks to her husband and I can see the terror in her eyes.

"I can show you," Marcel says.

"No, it's fine. I can take her." Eloise pushes up from her chair and starts to manoeuvre around Gio.

"You don't have to do that, Ellie," he whispers but I hear him.

"I want to," she responds, and I follow her out of the dining room, glancing over my shoulder. Watching everyone watch us leave.

As soon as we turn the corner, I step up next to her, being sure to keep my voice low. "I can get you out of here."

"Excuse me?" She stops short.

"I can get you out. You don't have to stay here," I tell her.

Eloise moves back a step, putting distance between us almost like she's afraid I might hurt her. "What are you talking about?"

"It's okay. I can help. Who did that to your face? Was it your husband? I can help you." Truth is, I need to help her. I can't just leave her here.

"You think my husband did this? To me?" She shakes her head. "He didn't. He wouldn't, and if you knew any of those men in there, you'd also know that none of them are capable of hurting a woman." Then her arm shoots out, gesturing behind me. "The bathroom is down the hall, third door on the left." Before I can respond, she's already walking away. Back towards the dining room.

I can't stay here. I need to get out of this house. I tried to do the right thing, offer her help. What can I do if she doesn't want it? I don't know, but I'm not sticking around to find myself trapped in another nightmare. So I do the only thing I can.

I run. Or at least I attempt to.

"Zoe?" Marcel's voice follows me down the hall, and then he's in front of me. "Are you okay?"

There's so much concern on his face when he looks at me like this. It's hard to believe that he would sit by and let a woman be abused. But I also saw her face, and I can't unsee that. "I… ah… I forgot I had a thing to do. At home."

"Don't leave. Whatever happened… I'm sure we can work it out," he says.

"I can't." I shake my head and take a step back.

"Follow me." Marcel grabs my hand. His grip isn't tight though. He keeps it loose, giving me the ability to pull back if I want to.

It's the little things he does that make me feel safe with him. Things like this. I just don't know if I'm being an idiot or not. My feet follow him up the stairs and then I find myself standing in a bedroom. His bedroom.