Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Ana

I haven't been able to stop shaking for hours. Why is he still here? He's never home for this long. Hugging my pillow, I try to blink back the tears burning my eyes. The last thing I need is to become dehydrated. I'm not sure if crying would do that, but I'm not taking any chances.

The only thing keeping me somewhat satiated is drinking water from my bathroom faucet. At least I have that.

I glance outside at the courtyard, hoping to find something to distract me. Right as I do, a sleek black Range Rover pulls into the driveway and parks. It's not a car that's been here before.

Something in my tummy twists and tightens. I'm not sure if it's a hunger cramp or something else. It feels different. Scary. My father doesn't have people come to the house except for his men and the maid.

Three men dressed in black suits step out of the SUV and pull guns from their holsters as they approach the front door.

Oh, god. What's happening? Are they here to kill my father? They don't look happy, that's for sure. My attention zeroes in on the man walking in front of the other two. His sandy-brown hair looks as though he's been running his fingers through it all day. I've definitely never seen him before. I would have remembered. Everything about him screams money and power. Even the way he walks, so confident, like he doesn't have a care in the world.

They disappear into the house, and I stumble off the window seat and go to my bedroom door, trying to listen to whatever is happening.

Please kill him. Please. And his men.

If they are here to shoot my father, they will likely murder everyone in the house, including me. At this point, I don't care. My life is worthless anyway. Sad, lonely, and worthless. As much as I hate my father with every fiber of my being, I'm not sure how to survive without him. He's never allowed me to learn things like cooking or how to manage money. I wouldn't even know how to look for a job. Not that I'm qualified to do anything.

That's not true. I do know how to clean. That's the one thing I've been allowed to do. I could be a maid. I'm good at being quiet and staying invisible while keeping a home in meticulous condition. I just wish I was allowed outside so I could make the exterior of the house look as good as the inside.

I can't hear anything, no matter how hard I press my ear to the door. Would gunshots be loud? Probably, unless they have one of those silencer things on them that I saw in a movie once.

After a few minutes, I creep over to the window again to see if the SUV is still there. When I confirm that it is, I tiptoe back to the door. I'm not sure why I'm trying to be so quiet. The floor is carpeted, and I'm barefoot. My skin prickles right before I hear my father's voice.

"I'm going, I'm going," he says urgently.

I turn to run and hide in my closet, but before I can take a single step, my bedroom door swings open and hits me, knocking me down. I yelp and quickly scoot back, trying to get away from him, but it's not just my father who steps in. One of the men who came in the SUV is with him, and he's holding a gun to my father's head.

A sense of satisfaction washes over me. Is he going to kill him right in front of me?

"Get up!" my father shouts as he reaches down and grabs me by the elbow.

Pain strikes through me as he squeezes my arm. That's going to leave a bruise. It wouldn't be the first one he's given me, though.

"What the fuck?" the man with the gun exclaims as he eyes me.

I'm yanked out of my room and practically tumble down the stairs as my father drags me with the man in the suit following, his gun still drawn. I don't miss that he's not pointing it at us, though. Did he lower it because of me?

I try to keep up with my father's long strides through the foyer and then down the corridor to his office. As soon as we arrive at the doorway, he shoves me in. I stumble forward and put my hands out to catch myself when I fall. A hand grabs hold of me before I go down completely. It's warm and firm, not bruising like my father's grip was.

My palms land on the person's chest, a rush of air whooshing from my lungs.

"Sorry," I cry out, trying to right myself while avoiding eye contact.

Then he gives me a gentle squeeze that makes me look up. It's him . The one who was walking in front. He's so much bigger up close. Taller. Broader. Scarier. I take a step back, swallowing heavily.

In his other hand is a gun. Oh, god. I'm going to die. They're here to kill all of us.

"What the fuck is this?" The man who caught me looks furious.

"You can have her. She's a virgin. She cleans. You can do whatever you want with her. Put her on the streets. Fuck her. Breed her. She's all yours," my father says, motioning toward me.

My heart pounds harder as I snap my gaze toward the man who is supposed to love and protect me. "What? No!" I gasp.

I know better than to talk back to him. To challenge anything he says. I've learned this lesson over and over. Which is why I'm willing to die of hunger in my room rather than face him when he's home. But I can't believe what he just said. Is he serious?

Like a flash of lightning, he strikes, slapping me across the face. "Shut the fuck up, cunt!" he yells.

My hand flies up to my stinging cheek as a fresh set of tears pricks my eyes.

The man who seems to be the lead jumps toward my father, sending an end table crashing to the floor. He shoves his gun into my father's face. "Touch her again and I will fucking slaughter you in front of her."

I sniffle, trying not to lose it completely. Trying not to crumble from hunger and pain. When I flick my gaze up to the man, he peers down at me, his forehead lined with concern and anger, but his green eyes study me. It feels like he's silently asking me if I'm okay, so I give a slight nod and then look at the floor.

He might be protecting me against my father's wrath, but that doesn't make him a good man. After all, if he accepts the offer, who knows what he'll do to me.

"You're willing to exchange your daughter for half a million dollars of forgiveness?" the man asks.

"Yes. Yes. She's a virgin. She'll be obedient. She's all yours to do whatever you want."

While keeping my head turned to the floor, I peek up at the man from under my lashes. His eyes are darker than they were a moment ago.

"Deal."

Tears roll down my cheeks. My life just went from bad to worse.