Chapter 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

PHOENIX

Standing with my arms crossed against my chest, I watch the security monitor. I’ve just escorted Ani back to her room, and whether I want to admit it or not, I can’t take my eyes off her.

I take a seat in front of the screen, propping my feet up on the table. I settle in as I always do in the evening. My television viewing before bed has become Ani.

Fucking Ani has already consumed far more of my time and my mind than planned.

I have gone too far. I saw her eyes. Real fear is lodged there.

Trying to shake off my guilt, I just stare at Ani. She doesn’t deserve to feel the way she does.

Wait… What the hell? She fucking deserves it. She’s a liar. A liar.

I begin pacing the room, hating that her actions still anger me. No one person should control any emotion of mine for so long.

My goal is to train her to be submissive. To teach her to never cross me or another Godwin.

There’s a difference between discipline and cruelty, and I know it. I have to break her in slowly. I can’t just go in full force and scare the hell out of her like that.

Did I slap her across the face? No. Did I lose my shit? No. But did I make her afraid? Yes.

I sit back down and clench my jaw as I watch Ani settle down and curl up on her single blanket .

My father treated my mother this way…

Ani is afraid of me. She is terrified. Truly terrified, and I am the sole cause of it. Shit.

Yes, my goal is to punish her, but this is different. Her pussy drips with every erotic spank or demand of a submissive act. The cuffs and plug are different. She wasn’t wet. There was no arousal. She is just a scared little girl with some deep-rooted demons attacking, and I allow it.

But now… For some reason I want to protect her from all that.

Wait. No. Stop this fucking madness.

Fuck this confusion. Fuck Ani for making my emotions run crazy. This isn’t me. Order and structure. Black and white. Confusion is not an emotion I battle.

Enough is enough.

I need to handle this.

I have to take control.

This woman can’t have this hold over me any longer. Somehow, I have to break free.

Ani

It’s late, but I can’t sleep. It’s not just the handcuffs and plug keeping me awake, either. So many thoughts and emotions are running through my body and mind. I should hate Phoenix, but I don’t. I actually want to be upstairs in the attic with him, in his bed, in his arms. How can that be after what he’s done to me? How can I feel anything but complete loathing?

Oddly, it’s as if I understand him. It’s as if I truly get why he is doing this. Why he has no choice. Why he feels so strongly in his actions. I can’t explain it. I could never put these thoughts into words to anyone else, but something deep inside of me realizes this is the path and journey Phoenix must take. This is the road we must take to make our way through the darkness.

I feel there will be light on the other side, that there is an end to our story with a happily ever after.

Looking over at the floorboard that conceals the journals, I decide to take a big risk. Pushing my wool blanket over to the spot, hoping to god that Phoenix isn’t still awake watching me, I carefully open the hole using the blanket as my shield to hide my actions. I also reach for the stack of books that were left as my comfort items and hide the journals within them. Feeling confident that I’ve concealed them enough and impressed with myself that I did all this handcuffed, I open one of them up, using the thick book to hide what I’m doing in case Phoenix is watching. To him, it will look like I’m simply reading a book.

Dear Diary,

I think my daughter killed someone today. Athena was at the top of the stairs looking down, when the butler was down below... dead. There was something in her eyes. A wicked smile on her face.

It was an accident her father was quick to say. A deadly, deadly, accident.

But dear God, I think my daughter killed a man.

I’m afraid of what this means for the future. I can tell Athena is changing, becoming colder and more distant. Her father is trying to protect her, but I fear he may be enabling her dark tendencies. Even if she didn’t mean to do it, she could be capable of doing so again.

And that terrifies me.

I know she’s not the same little girl she used to be. She’s taken a strange liking to dark things, and I’m concerned that her fascination with the forbidden might be slowly leading to something more sinister.

I’m afraid to leave her alone, so I always keep her in my sight. But even then, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. It’s almost as if I’m being followed, and I can feel Athena’s eyes on me even when I’m alone.

Every day I watch her with a growing dread, my heart aching at the sight of the viper in the garden she’s becoming. I know now that it is only a matter of time before her wickedness is revealed. I can only pray that it doesn’t spell disaster for us all.

I flip to the beginning of the journal to see if any dates were written but don’t find anything to answer my questions. When was this? How old was Athena? Did she really kill the butler?

Athena has always been terrifying. She went to my school the same time I did. We were only one year apart, but everyone knew not to mess with her. And not just because she was a Godwin, but because that girl was terrifying. Even at a young age, I seriously doubted any grown man would mess with her.

Does Athena know what Phoenix is planning with me, that he’s here punishing me, and then plans for me to have his baby? Maybe she’s part of it. Maybe some of this is her idea. Or maybe the real truth is that if she had her way, I’d be dead. My sister and I would be dead.

Nothing about this diary entry tells me about Phoenix, however, and I so desperately want to read about things that may help me start to understand him better. Maybe I’m pressing my luck, maybe I’m tempting the fates, and Phoenix will grow suspicious and catch me in the act, but I keep reading.

Dear Diary,

Troy made me go to The Vault tonight. I had heard stories that dark, debauched sex acts occurred in the old 19 th -century bank but didn’t know if the tales were fact or fiction.

I’m embarrassed to even be writing this story in my journal, but then again, I never want to forget this night.

As I walked up to the entrance, I could feel an eerie presence that seemed to permeate the air. The old wooden doors creaked as Troy opened them, and a gust of cold air rushed past us. Inside, I felt a chill run down my spine as I saw the various sights and sounds of the old bank. Everywhere I looked, there were dark figures sitting in the shadows, and strange music emanating from somewhere in the depths of the building.

As I continued to walk, I heard a low, guttural laugh coming from the corner of the room. I couldn’t make out who it was, but the laughter was sinister. I felt a chill in my bones as Troy grabbed my hand and led me further into the building.

We entered through the locked door and down the winding staircase. The air was musty and heavy with secrets, and I felt like I was being watched by unseen eyes. We reached the bottom of the stairs to find an ornate room filled with couches and a large red-velvet bed in the center.

The atmosphere was different here. Instead of the electricity that usually crackles in the air before a wild party, there was an eerie stillness that seemed to hang over everything.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw the people in the room—the women in the room—were all naked. Some were on their hands and knees being led around by a collar. Others were pleasing the men by sucking their cocks.

Troy led me further into the room, and I couldn’t help but feel I had entered a realm of forbidden pleasures and sinister desires. My heart raced as I looked around and realized that Troy had brought me to a fetish club. This wasn’t just an ordinary sex club—it was a dark, twisted place where desires of all kinds were being explored and acted upon. I could feel myself getting aroused, even in the presence of such depravity.

I knew I was in way over my head, but I also knew that I wanted to explore this new world. Anything to maybe save my marriage. Anything.

As Troy and I ventured further into the depths of the club, we encountered more and more bizarre activities, each one more perverse than the last. I had never seen anything quite like it before, and I was equal parts excited and scared.

Eventually, Troy and I found ourselves in a room with a large cage in the center. Inside, a woman was bound and gagged with rope. She was being whipped, and her screams echoed through the empty room. I could feel myself getting aroused, and I knew that I wanted to experience this world for myself. This was so unlike me. But maybe that’s what I needed.

To be different.

Troy pulled me close and whispered into my ear, “Do you want to join in?” I hesitated for a moment, not sure if I could go through with it. But there was something to this place. Something I needed to taste. To see. To feel.

I nodded my head yes, and Troy smiled as he opened the door to another cage. I stepped inside, knowing my wildest fantasies were about to become a reality.

Wow. I never imagined Troy Godwin and his wife were Vault members. There isn’t a single person who lives on Heathens Hollow who doesn’t know about The Vault. Not everyone has been there, of course. It’s exclusive and only the rich get to play in that playground. But everyone knows just how dirty and depraved it can be. People fly in from around the world to attend the dark sex parties. I had always been fascinated by them, and frankly, if it weren’t for me getting with Mark so young, I would have most certainly considered being one of the girls to work the parties. I heard there was a lot of money to be made, but what tempted me the most was I truly wanted to see what was inside that bank. I didn’t want to just hear the rumors. I wanted to see for myself .

I chuckle as I close and hide the journal. Freya Godwin, you dirty girl. I may not be able to ever look at Troy Godwin the same way now.

Nothing in tonight’s reading has given me a peek into Phoenix’s childhood, but from what I’ve gathered, love existed between Freya and Troy at one time in their marriage. Phoenix had to see that. He had to have seen glimpses of love.

“Phoenix,” I say into the camera, not sure if he’s awake and can even hear me. “What you’re doing to me, it isn’t you. You have to let go of the anger you have. I’ve apologized, and I will continue to do so every single day, if that is what it takes. But I promise you with my entire heart… I’m on your side. Your side.” I take a calming breath. “This isn’t you, Phoenix. I know that. I saw the real you before this all started. I’ve seen you. And yes, you are a Godwin, but you know your mother wouldn’t condone this. What would she say if she knew what you were doing to me? If she knew just how furious you are? Would your father treat your mother this way?”

I’m taking a risk bringing up Troy because maybe the answer to the question of whether his father would treat his mother this way is yes. Maybe he would. Maybe Troy taught Phoenix everything he knows and is willing to do to me.