Chapter Sixteen

Odette

“I f one of you doesn’t take me up to a bedroom and fuck me thoughtless, I’m going to lose it.”

“Please just calm down for a second and tell us what happened. Let us help you, Odette.”

“I don’t want to be comforted. I want to be distracted. Please.”

Six hours earlier

“I have nothing to wear,” I groaned, staring into my closet.

Niko was sitting on my bed, doing his best to help me pick from my many dresses. How was it possible to have so many clothes yet nothing to wear? A better question: how did I find myself in this predicament so often? “You’ll look like the bell of the ball in anything you wear, Cari?o,” he promised.

With a huff, I sat beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I don’t even like these people. They’re lucky I’m showing up at all, let alone dressed up. Who even hosts formal events like this anyway? It’s literally a dinner, not a wedding,” I complained.

“You could stay home,” he suggested with a naughty hint in his tone. “You could be the bell of the ball here, and you could do it naked.”

My oil leak ended yesterday, and I was once again available for sex. I smirked at him. “I still have half an hour before Vincent picks me up...” I looked at him hopefully. “Real quick.”

Niko broke out in a fit of laughter. “You’re so God damn cute,” he gushed while laying on his back with his hands covering his face. “Odette, do you really think any of us would waste weeks of teasing, the fun of sexual torture, and edging for a quickie?” He asked. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re going to take our leisurely time with you,” he promised. “Also, you’ll probably have to be able to walk tonight.”

“I had to try,” I defended, lying next to him. “Soon, though, right?” I practically begged.

“You’ve been trying for weeks. You’ve almost got each of us to break, so kudos to you. You’re giving us a run for our money, that’s for sure,” he joked. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me to his side. “I’m partial to the blue dress.”

“You didn’t think it was too much?” I asked. The dress in question was light blue, silk in texture, floor length, skin tight, with thin straps. It was a favorite of mine as well, but I’d never had the chance to wear it.

“Try it on,” he encouraged.

He slapped my ass as I stood, and I yipped. I grabbed the gown from its hanger and went into the bathroom to change. “Really?” Niko chuckled at my modesty.

“Trust me, me squeezing into this thing is the most unsexy thing you’ll ever see,” I assured with a chuckle.

“I highly doubt that.”

Once I finally got into the dress, I did a spin and looked at myself in the mirror from all angles. While the dress was floor length and had decent coverage, it was exceptionally tight. The silk hugged every curve and caught the light perfectly, highlighting my barely-there features.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I placed an arm around my torso. “Too much?”

Niko’s brows lifted, and his eyes darkened. “Wow.” He rubbed his five o’clock shadow while eyeing me up and down. “Spin?” he requested with a twirl of his finger.

I slowly turned around, holding my arms away from my body. “Was that a good wow or a bad wow?” I asked. “Niko?” I repeated, turning to look at him again after he didn’t respond.

When I turned, he was mere inches away from me, catching my lips in his. His hands cupped my ass instantly, pulling me against him. I moaned into his lips, caught off guard by the sudden romantics.

With a firm slap to my ass that made me hiss against his lip, he pulled away. “That was a wow; thirty minutes is longer than it seems,” his voice was husky as he joked. “You look ravishing—literally, if you didn’t have anywhere to be, I’d ravish you,” he smiled. “The color makes your eyes shine, your dark hair contrasts the blue, and it makes your ass look... mmm,” he gave my ass another slap, palming it through the dress.

His flattery made butterflies erupt in my stomach. My confidence was at an all-time high—despite my crimson cheeks. Not only did I look good, I felt better than I had in a long time. They breathed so much life into me. Before I met them, I was incredibly lonely. My only hobby was feeding pond fish. There was no other way to describe it; I just felt good.

“Say more nice things,” I flirted, hooking my arms around his neck as he held my hips.

He gave me a devilish once-over, his eyes slowly examining my body. “I’m out of nice things. Can I offer you a detailed description of what I’d like to do to you?” He cocked an eyebrow in challenge.

“I’m more of a hands-on kind of learner. You should know that better than anyone, Professor.” The endearment dripped from my lips like honey, and I loved how it rolled off my tongue. More than that, it fitted Niko very well—not only because he was my professor—but also because it was stupidly hot.

He obviously thought so, too, as his eyes widened in surprise at my sultry tone. He looked down at his wristwatch and hummed. “Cari?o, if you don’t stop playing with me, you’ll have consequences later,” he warned with a smirk.

“What did I say?” I pleaded innocence.

“Are you playing with me?”

“That entirely depends on what the later consequences are.”

“Did I say later?” He challenged with a mischievous gleam in his eye. In a swift movement, he reached behind his head and grabbed both my wrists with one hand. With two steps back, he had me pinned against the wall and his body, arms above my head. “I’ve got you for another 20 minutes. How many times do you think you can cum in 20 minutes, Cari?o?”

My courage and snark dissipated quickly when his lips were near mine. “I—Niko, I have to leave soon,” I squirmed against him, feeling my lingerie dampen.

His free hand started bunching up my dress, lifting the length until it rested at my hips. His finger rubbed my slit, not wasting any time as he put pressure on my clit. “I know you do. By the time Vincent gets here, you’ll be floaty and sedated, ready to take a two-hour nap while he chauffeurs you,” he tempted.

Biting back moans, I attempted to keep my composure. “I don’t get floaty,” I defended.

A genuine chuckle that came from his chest filled the room. “Oh yeah?” He teased. Cool air hit me as he moved my underwear to the side. A single digit ran up and down my slit, gently teasing my entrance. “You get the prettiest dumb look on your face when you cum. Your eyes gloss, your nose blushes, your lips get swollen, and there’s not a single thought in that pretty little head of yours,” he taunted in a whisper. He pushed his finger into me, earning a desperate moan as my body relaxed. “It’s the craziest thing,” he continued. “When we play with your pussy or your mouth, your brain completely shuts off.”

For obvious reasons, it’d been a week since any of them touched me. It had been seconds, and I was already a pulsing wet mess. I moaned, gently pushing my hips towards him. “Niko—”

“No. Not Niko,” he shook his head. His finger gently fucked me as he kissed me. My eyes fluttered shut, basking in the sensation of his lips on mine. Craving more, I parted my lips for him. His tongue teased my lips, licking them but never entering my greedy mouth. “What do you call me, Cari?o?” He pushed.

My eyes cracked open as his lips lingered above mine. He sped up his pace, and I whimpered as a knot grew inside me. “Say it,” he rasped, barely licking my bottom lip.

“Kiss me, Professor ,” I begged.

A deep grumble left his chest as he hummed in satisfaction. Finally, his lips were fully on mine, his tongue sloppily rolling against my own. It was pure ecstasy, and I was over the moon. Nothing else turned me on quite as much as having my mouth played with.

“You’re so wet, Cari?o,” he mumbled against my mouth. “Fuck, I can tell how badly you want to cum. You’re squeezing around me so tight,” he hissed.

I whimpered as he pulled his lips away from mine. “You’re making a mess, Baby,” he said with false sympathy. He let go of my hands, and they fell to my sides. He sent me a stern look. “Don’t fucking move.” I nodded. He sank to his knees, where his mouth was dangerously close to my pussy.

I shivered as he licked up my thigh, catching my arousal that dripped. He moaned. “You taste so fucking good,” he cursed. “Do you want your Professor to lick your messy little pussy, Cari?o? Is that what you want?”

My hands tangled in his hair as he lifted my leg over his shoulder. “Please,” I pleaded. I was aching with anticipation.

His finger continued pumping into me as his tongue slowly, tantalizingly, lapped at my clit. “Oh God...” I moaned.

Greed was something I’d never felt before—not like I did with them. They were a borderline addiction for me, and I craved every piece of them. All five of my senses were theirs to manipulate and occupy. I was so greedy that not only did I want to feel his tongue on me, I wanted to watch.

Once I finally found the courage to cast my gaze downward, I was met with his intense eyes already on me. I wasn’t the only one who liked to watch.

His tongue circled around my clit again before his lips wrapped around it. My hand gripped his hair harder as he sucked and lapped at the sensitive bud. My moans got louder when his finger curled inside me. “That’s it, Cari?o,” he husked before attacking my clit again.

If he didn’t let up, I would cum within seconds. “Niko, I—”

With a harsh stinging slap against my thigh, his eyes darkened as he stared at me. The intimidating look was all it took to remind me of his preferred endearment.

A high-pitched, desperate moan that probably alerted the others of what we were doing escaped my lips. In an uncontrollable plea, I begged, “Please don’t stop, Professor.”

The moan against my pussy and the quickened pace of his finger was a silent praise that took no words. He chuckled, letting his skilled finger do all the work as he pulled his mouth away from me. “Are you going to cum already mi peque?a zorra?” The taunting gleam in his eyes didn’t help my situation.

[My little slut.]

I didn’t know Niko spoke Spanish, although I wasn’t surprised. He’d mentioned that his parents were from Italy and Spain; I should have guessed he was bilingual.

Little did he know that his little slut was fluent in many languages as well. “?Lo preguntas como si no fuera tu objetivo?” I moaned my response.

The teasing expression he wore shifted into one of surprise. If I didn’t know better, I’d even say he looked intrigued—but I knew better, and that intrigue was actually lust.

[Do you ask it as if it were not your goal?]

Confirming my speculations, I saw a shift in Niko. In the span of two seconds, I pinpointed the exact moment he’d lost control. As if my speaking the language enticed him, he stood and crashed his lips to mine. My legs shook as he unexpectedly pushed another finger into me. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he said between kisses. With his free hand, he grabbed my waist and pushed my lips flush against the wall with a crash. Taking one of my hands in his, he placed it on his dick—that was pulsing under my touch. “Feel what you do to me?”

Taking the opportunity, I once again let greed take over as I groped him, palming him through his pants. My eyes glossed, and my mouth watered, pathetically craving him inside my mouth—or pussy; his choice.

My skin ignited as his fingers practically tried to force an orgasm out of me. My hips rocked onto his fingers, and he gave me a devilish grin. “See?” His mouth hovered over mine, barely brushing my lips as he spoke. His finger strokes sped up, and I had to hold onto his shoulder so I wouldn’t crumble. “You get turned on, and your brain turns off. You’re just a dumb little fuck puppet who wants to be used, aren’t you?” He equivocated.

My moan was cut short as I heard muttering voices, followed by the front door creaking open downstairs. Vincent was here early, and I was (obviously) nowhere near ready.

Niko grabbed my face and turned my attention to him again. “ Aren’t you?” He hissed. His annoyance at my distraction showed through the clapping his palm made against my pussy as his movements got harder.

The walls in this house were thin, especially with my room door wide open. I was worried about Vincent hearing us, but that worry became an afterthought as I locked eyes with Niko. “I am,” I appealed.

My bottom lip was firmly between my teeth, trying to keep myself quiet as I came on his fingers. Waves of pleasure and tranquility cascaded through my body. Every nerve and every ounce of stress was taken over by the ecstasy of brain-numbing nothingness .

“Ah, ah, ah,” Niko playfully scolded. Taking his free hand, he ran his thumb along my bottom lip, releasing it from the secure— safe— hold. “Every slutty, desperate, little whimper you make belongs to me.” He tilted his head toward the door before he slowed his fingers, making them push deeper into me. “They can probably hear your dripping pussy, anyway. Do you hear how wet you are, Cari?o?” He teased with a devilish grin.

My cheeks flushed crimson as I realized the wet noises that came from between my legs. I reluctantly moaned as he toyed with me, prolonging my orgasm. “Niko,” I whispered a warning, grabbing his wrist in an attempt to make him stop. “Please!” I begged.

Vincent and I were about to be trapped in a car together for over two hours. I really didn’t want either of us to be uncomfortable because he had heard something he shouldn’t have.

Niko seemed tickled pink at my embarrassment. I was crumbling under his touch, and he was on the verge of laughing at me. “Please, what?” he taunted.

“I don’t want them to h—” he plunged his fingers all the way into me, making me shriek my words out with a moan. “Hear us! Fuck—”

“Oh!” He laughed. “Why didn’t you say so?”

My arm stayed hooked around his shoulders to keep me stable as I tried to recuperate. “You’re evil,” I panted.

A smirk grew on his mouth as he sucked my arousal off his fingers. He hummed in delight as if it were cherry pie on his tongue. “Is that a complaint or a compliment?” He asked.

I ran my hand through my hair and released his dick that I’d had a death grip on through my climax... whoops. “Both—mostly a compliment,” I decided. I pulled my underwear back into place, making sure to clean myself up and change them before I left the house. Damn, Niko..

Descending the steps of the manor, I couldn’t help but feel a little silly. I was dripping in luxurious jewels and clothing, and I’d continue to feel overdressed until we arrived at the near palace that was my childhood home.

It’d been ten minutes since Niko ravished me with his fingers. In that time, he’d braided my hair, leaving strands messily framing my flushed face. My body felt floaty, as he put it, and I was grateful for the release before the undoubtedly stressful evening.

When I entered, my professors and Vincent were scattered around the living room. Aiden looked particularly handsome, with a glass of scotch in his hand, leaning against the fireplace. Then again, the same could be said about Wyatt, who had a book in hand, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he lost himself in pages. Dominic sat on the couch with Vincent, clad in sweatpants and a black shirt that his biceps tore through.

I didn’t bother looking at Niko; I still couldn’t without turning a bright shade of red.

Aiden was the first to notice me. He glanced at me momentarily as I reached the bottom of the steps before doing a double take. His lips slightly parted, and I felt a wave of confidence rush through me at the dumbstruck stare I had earned.

“You look like a little starlet,” Wyatt announced with a charming smile, capturing my attention and everyone else’s.

Moving to stand next to the sofa he sat on, I smiled at him. “Niko said it wasn’t too much, but I’m unconvinced.”

“Not at all; you look lovely,” Aiden chimed in. His tone had an edge that hinted at jealousy. Amused at his sudden protectiveness, I grinned back at him. For once, I picked up on something in his tone. I found it cute. He had nothing to worry about at this dinner. There weren’t any men who’d capture my attention—none compared to them.

Vincent slapped his thighs before standing up with an old-man-ish groan that contradicted his age. “Alright, ready to head out? I brought shots in mini bottles to make the night more tolerable,” he winked.

Why hadn’t I thought of that? Oh, right—I was 20.

Dominic made a sound of disapproval before he shot Vincent an unamused glance that made me giggle.

“Thanks, I’m good, though—for now, at least. We’ll see,” I dismissed.

“I’m kidding,” Vincent rolled his eyes, but he gave me a playful look and mouthed, ‘I’m not kidding,’ as he passed me.

The man conflicted me deeply. I mean, he seemed harmless and like a genuinely good guy. He was their friend, and they trusted him, which made me want to trust him. But he was also one of Charles’ business partners...

Innocent until proven guilty was what I was trying to reason, but I was a naturally skeptical person.

“Vincent, can you behave yourself?” Dominic questioned with his eyebrows pressed in concern.

“Absolutely not,” he joked, toying with them.

“Just don’t drink and drive,” Dominic reminded.

Vincent laughed. “I’m already drunk, Dominic. What am I? Twelve? I can chaperone just fine, thank you.”

“Chaperone,” I scoffed. “I’m not the one who bought shots—”

Vincent held his hands up in surrender. “Just trying to lighten the mood. These people suck,” he justified.

I shrugged, agreeing with him. “I didn’t say I didn’t appreciate the idea,” I muttered.

“Can you behave?” Dominic jokingly questioned me.

“Absolutely not,” I repeated Vincent’s response with a gentle shake of my head.

Glancing down at the book in Wyatt’s hands, I read the familiar title: The Virgin Suicides. I’d read the book in my early adolescence and thoroughly enjoyed it. I still had a copy somewhere—”Did you take that off my shelf?” I realized. I wouldn’t have thought Wyatt would own such a feminine book, for lack of better verbiage.

Wyatt looked at the cover before looking at me. “Yes. I haven’t read it in years; it used to be one of my favorites,” he explained.

“Really?” I asked, my tone coming off a tad bit scrutinizing. I would sooner believe that the masculine man was snooping through my interest in literature than that.

“Is that so hard to believe?” He chuckled. I nodded.

He was grinning as his tongue darted out and licked his lips. The book rested shut on his lap as he shifted toward me. “ We felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. We knew that the girls were our twins, that we all existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we couldn’t fathom them at all. We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.” He quoted Eugenides effortlessly.

By the end of the passage, my jaw was slightly slack, and I had a new image of Wyatt Wright. Pathetically, my panties dampened, and I was strangely attracted to his ability to quote one of my favorite books and my favorite passage. “Wow, okay... my mistake,” I mumbled.

My adoration for the book ran deep. When I was younger, I related to the Lisbon sisters. During multiple points of my life thus far, I’d wanted to be Cecilia, then Lux. When I decided I was going to have sex at that party in high school, I wanted to have my ‘Lux phase.’ I had fantasies of rebellion and doing something my father would disapprove of. At that time, I had no control over anything in my life and thought sex was something I could control.

In reality, I was just a stupid teenager, and Jimmy Erickson was my Trip Fontaine.

The book held so much value for me, and I was a little surprised that someone like Wyatt had read it enough to quote it from memory. If I believed in love, I would have fallen for him that very second.

“You seem surprised,” he pointed.

“Astonished,” I corrected honestly.

Taking note of the quietness, I looked around the room. All my professors smiled at me in a way that made goosebumps cover my skin and a blush creep up my cheeks. I was taken with Wyatt, and it was obvious to everyone. “We’d better get going,” I announced, glancing at a smirking Vincent.

“Call us if you need anything, Babydoll,” Aiden instructed.

“I will,” I assured, turning to follow Vincent out the door.

I got three steps onto the porch before my name was called. Whirling around, I was caught in Wyatt’s arms, melting into an unexpected and passionate kiss. I was tilted back, supported by his arms, hovering over the ground.

When he pulled away, he was centimeters away from my lips, and a charmingly boyish smile grew on his lips. “You’re a stone fox,” he whispered.

My inner child, my inner teenager, and my adult self all swooned. A huge, gleeful smile overtook me, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the charm. Be still my beating heart...

These men were dangerous in the best kind of way possible.

A loud song playing jolted me awake. Just as I opened my eyes, I saw Vincent’s hand moving away from the volume dial. “Oh, hey, sleepyhead,” he greeted. “You fell asleep about five minutes into the drive, leaving me to amuse myself,” he informed me.

Sitting up in the passenger seat, I noticed the fog and darkness that surrounded his car. “Sorry, I’m a crappy road-trip partner,” I admitted, still trying to recover from his rude heavy metal awakening. “How much longer?”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he answered. “Shots are in the glove box,” he gave me a knowing glance.

“You’re kinda jumping the gun on that one, aren’t you?” I laughed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

Niko wasn’t kidding; that orgasm put me straight to sleep.

“I like to be prepared.”

“Have you heard anything else about what this is about?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. I like to think that he’ll have all his ex-wives dual over him and make the winner-wife number... uh, twelve?”

“Fourteen?” I corrected.

“Jesus fuck, is he trying to collect them all?” He joked.

“He wants a son,” I halfheartedly joked. If I was being honest, there was a lot of truth to that statement.

Vincent let out a huff of a chuckle before he glanced at me a few times, his face more serious now. “Hey, if you want to leave, just let me know, okay?”

It was like Aiden was using him as a puppet. Those words reeked of Aiden. He must have had a conversation with Vincent before we left. “Thank you.”

Charles’ house was massive and overbearing as it came into sight. It was a stunning mansion; there was no denying that. To me, it was a prison. There wasn’t an inch of that house or the yards around it where I felt remotely comfortable. It housed too many horrid memories—too many nightmares.

Outside, there were staff dressed in red, ready to take Vincent’s keys and park his car. Vincent was quick to grab the bottles of alcohol and place them in his pockets.

I laughed and rolled my eyes at the man as we accented up the steps that led to the double-door entryway. Taking a breath, I looked dead ahead as the butler opened the doors for us. “Miss Whitlock, it’s nice to see you again,” he greeted with a smile.

“Hi, Lawrence,” I returned the smile. He was a kind man—too kind to be working for my father. That was a sad fact that was true for many of my father’s live-in staff.

About three dozen people were scattered around the house—ex-wives, some of my step-siblings, business partners, servers, and a few others I didn’t recognize. The Tweedle brothers were present as well. They stood on either side of Charles as he conversed with a group of men. Leeches.

“Dotty,” Anthony smiled as he approached with a tray of champagne glasses. Like the other servers who lingered around the first floor, he was dressed in a suit.

“Anthony, hi,” I touched the side of his arm. “You’re working?” I asked. I assumed he’d be helping his parents with dinner in the kitchen, not out here.

“Mom kicked me out of the kitchen after I told her to take it easy,” he admitted. “You look great. I haven’t seen you in forever,” he complimented nervously.

“You too,” I returned the compliment, taking a glass off his tray. A drink and something to occupy my nervous, twiddling hands seemed necessary. “Thanks.” I turned to introduce Vincent, who was long gone and stood in a group of men I didn’t recognize.

“I’d better get back to work before the big man sees,” Anthony widened his eyes. “Find me later, okay?”

The thought of being alone in a crowd of people I didn’t necessarily know made me uneasy. Still, I couldn’t exactly tell him to linger with me. He was working. So, I gave him a nod. “Keep them coming,” I joked, tilting the glass towards him.

When Anthony left, I walked further into the house, seeing dozens of familiar faces—mostly unfriendly ex-wives and step-siblings.

“Odette,” his voice always hit me like a cannonball. It was loud and booming as it reached my ears.

Turning to meet his significant presence, I peered up at his clean-shaven face and expensive suit. “The house looks great,” I complimented, but I couldn’t force myself to smile at the man.

“Yes, I hope so,” he contended, and I shrunk. “After dinner, I have something we need to discuss. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pull one of your vanishing acts before that time. Do you understand?”

I’d been in the house for five minutes, and anxiety already buzzed through my body. I nodded. “Okay.”

He disapprovingly looked me up and down slowly before he clenched his jaw. “Stand up straight; you look like a hunchback,” he scolded in a whisper before turning to leave.

I thought I was standing up straight? Pushing my shoulders further back, I took in a breath and began wandering again. I was homesick already.

During my wandering, I spoke to a few staff members I was close with, some of my step-siblings who didn’t resent me, and a few other small ‘hi how are you’s here and there.

Surprisingly enough, my wandering actually had a destination. It’d been an hour since Vincent and I arrived, and I finally dared to wander upstairs—specifically, to an area of the house I’d hopefully only seen in my dreams.

Seeing Charles’ wing of the mansion was something I needed to do for my own sanity. I was clinging to hope that the room would look completely different from how I’d imagined it in my dreams. If not, I didn’t know what I’d do.

So, I slipped away from the crowd. Dinner was a short fifteen minutes away, giving me enough time to pop in and out without anyone noticing my absence. My hands were shaking as I neared the double doors that were always locked.

Peeking over my shoulder one last time, I rested my hand against the handle. Be unfamiliar. Luckily and surprisingly, the doors were unlocked. A part of me was hoping they’d be locked—in case I didn’t want to know the answer.

When the doors creaked open, I was instantly met with a gut-wrenching feeling that made me take a step back. Every nerve in my body shouted, ‘Don’t go in that room!’ . I’d never been so certain that I shouldn’t be somewhere before, and yet, I took a step forward.

My stomach was in knots as my eyes glanced around the room. I didn’t have to take more than a step into the room—I knew what the room contained. From the fireplace, the tan walls, the four sofas, and the middle of the room where I’d stood before, I knew that fucking room.

The urge to vomit filled me, and I closed the doors as if that would make anything better.

The dreams were memories.

My breathing was loud as I stood, my hands firmly gripping the handles. Indents were surely left in my palms from how hard I squeezed them.

“Odette Whitlock,” a man’s voice chided from behind me. A man that had a blurry face. I’d heard the voice before—recently in my dreams. “What a treat.”

My arms crossed over my stomach as I turned to look at him. The man was dressed in a suit—as were all the other men here. He was as old as Charles, and some would consider him handsome. I knew better. I didn’t recognize him without his face blurred, and I knew I’d likely never met him outside Charles’ wing.

“I haven’t seen you since you were... gosh, maybe this tall?” He held his hand a few inches above his waistline. His hands were in his front pockets as he lingered a few feet away from me. “You probably don’t remember me,” he said casually.

My lips were sealed. Even if I had something to say, I didn’t think I could. A ball lumped in my throat, and bile was rising.

At my lack of response, he slowly shuffled nearer to me. “I’m Lestat Evermore, I’ve worked with your dad for a very long time,” he introduced.

“What are you doing up here, Lestat?” I questioned suddenly, surprising even myself. He was blocking me from leaving. My only way of getting back to everyone was getting past him.

He tilted his head up. “I saw you step away from the crowd. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. You should probably get back,” I tried to sound intimidating, but my voice was shrill.

He looked at the ground for a moment before he chuckled. “Are you worried people will think we’re up to something if we’re both missing?” He interrogated.

My legs felt like they weighed a million pounds, and I was unable to move them. Frozen in terror, just like I had been in my dreams, just like I had been in Mr. Ridley’s office.

There was no other way to describe it; I was paralyzed in fear. I wanted nothing more than to move my legs, run past him, into Vincent’s car, drive away, and never return.

“You’ve certainly grown up beautifully. You’re a heartbreaker, aren’t you?” He said before taking more steps towards me. My inability to move or speak only encouraged him.

Move your damn legs, Odette.

“There’s no need to be shy, Honey. I’ve heard about you in the papers, you know.” He didn’t remove his hands from his pockets, but he stood so close to me that I could smell his overpowering cologne. He leaned close to me, so he whispered in my ear. “I know you like to be fucked. That was just you in high school. I can’t imagine all the big girl things you’ve learned in college,” he leaned back again, sending me a knowing look.

My hands were balled in fists at my sides as I watched him. Disgust crept through my veins as he touched my unmoving arm.

Fucking move your ass.

“I bet you’d rather play with an older man, not those silly boys, huh?” He smirked. “I bet you’re dripping wet under that dress at the thought of me pulling you into one of these rooms and having my way with you.”

“Don’t touch me!” I warned, shoving his chest, finally able to move enough to get him a few short inches away from me.

He held his hands up in surrender. “You don’t have to play hard to get, Odette—”

“Well, this is awkward.” My limbs unlocked as Vincent approached. He stood behind Lestat in the dark hall. “What’s going on, Lestat?” He asked, his tone knowing yet lighthearted.

Lestat took a step away from me. “Vincent,” he greeted with obvious distaste. “I don’t think that’s any of your concern. If you must know, we were just catching up.”

Vincent chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that because from the way you waited for her to walk away from the crowd, then followed her, and the threat I thought I heard down the hall, someone might think you had bad intentions with the host’s daughter,” he spoke calmly, but the warning was clear as day in his tone.

“It’s a good thing you misheard us then, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Vincent took a few more steps forward. “You see, I don’t particularly know her very well, and I certainly don’t care enough to get my hands dirty over a misunderstanding,” he commented, making my stomach drop again.

Vincent’s eyes darkened. “ However, that girl is important to four of my closest friends, to say the absolute least. If any of them strolled down this hall and heard your miscommunication, it would end very differently. One of them would quite literally beat you to death. Another would probably scold you to the brink of suicide and make you rethink your miserable life. The other two would report you—after beating the ever-living fuck out of your old ass,” he threatened.

My eyes were round as saucers as I watched Vincent speak. All doubts I had of his character melted away instantly. Lestat cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable as he loosened his tie.

Vincent smiled. “So you see, you put me in a very awkward situation. Like I said, not my girl, not my problem. But if you even glance in her direction again for the duration of the evening, I’ll have to make a call,” he threatened.

Lestat didn’t look back at me as he watched Vincent, looking for any sign of a bluff. He found none. Even I was intimidated by his threat. “It won’t happen again,” he mumbled before he strolled down the long hall, out of sight.

A strange sense of shame filled me as I replayed the interaction. Like an opossum, I basically played dead while Lestat threatened me. I knew what would have happened if Vincent didn’t magically appear to save the day. Deep down, I knew my limbs locking up was psychological, and I shouldn’t blame myself. Still, I felt so stupid.

“Do you want to go?” Vincent asked.

Yes. “Charles wants to talk to me after dinner,” I responded quietly. Leaving this hellhole sounded delightful, but unfortunately, I had an obligation.

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “No more wandering, okay? I’d rather not have to call Dominic and be responsible for a murder,” he hinted.

“You’re not going to tell them, are you?” I begged. I didn’t want them to worry. If they knew, I’d also have to explain Lestat and how I knew him. The situation was an all-around mess that I couldn’t face myself, let alone explain.

Vincent pulled out a small bottle from his pocket. “No, I don’t think so—which makes me a shitty friend, by the way,” he gave me a stern look. “You should tell them, though,” he debated while opening the bottle and downing it.

Well, that wasn’t happening, but I appreciated his discretion, even if it made him a bad friend.

My stomach was still in knots as I approached him and held my hand out. We’d made it an hour into the evening before whipping out the shots. Call me crazy, but I’d call that a success. “Thank you,” I muttered. All things considered, I was really lucky Vincent was here.

Handing me a shot, he chuckled. “Just don’t make me be scary again, okay?”

We walked back downstairs just as everyone headed to the massive dining room. Of course, there were assigned seats, and I was next to Charles at the end of the table. On my other side was wife number one, whom I’d only seen in pictures until now. Going down the line, I saw the rest of the ex-wives and my step-siblings in order. After them, business partners, then any staff formally invited as a guest and not working.

Our glasses were promptly filled, and glorious appetizers were placed in front of each of us. It was some kind of soup that smelled good, like fresh cilantro. I kept my hands in my lap, knowing the rules. Charles ate first.

It was a bit of a shock for me to notice so many others diving right in, but their hands hadn’t been slapped for even reaching for a spoon. They were never scolded and sent to bed without eating at all.

I missed Niko.

Once I noticed Charles was nearly finished, I took a small spoonful of the soup, only to remember that I didn’t feel so good. Everyone was in conversation amongst themselves, and I was eagerly people watching.

Lestat seemed upset at the opposite end of the table as he and a group of men around him were in a heated conversation. I had only been watching for a few seconds before they all looked at me simultaneously.

Fuck . Turning away, I stared down at the soup. I didn’t know who had all gone up to Charles’ wing of the mansion... I assumed there were several if that was any indication. I didn’t feel safe in this group and wanted nothing more than to go home.

My soup was taken away and replaced with the entrée. A piece of grilled chicken seasoned to perfection sat on top of a leafy bed of greens, surrounded by colorful vegetables. It looked delicious until I looked around at everyone else’s plates. They were served filet mignon, mashed potatoes, pasta, and a side salad.

Great... I glanced at Charles, trying to hide my glare. Until recently, I thought this sort of thing was typical because that was how I was raised. My father always had savory meals, while I always had soup or salad. For a long time, I even believed that there was something wrong with my body and that I needed to eat this way. While living with my professors and often having them make my plates, I knew it was just another sign that Charles was an evil man.

Charles stood, gently tapping his fork against his glass, which made it chime. Here we go.

He cleared his throat once he had everyone’s attention, and the room fell silent. “Thank you all for coming this evening. I know the invitation was unexpected for many of you, as we haven’t spoken in years,” he began. “I’m sure you’re all curious as to why you’re here. Two months ago, I was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. They gave me four months to live.”

It felt like my body was sinking. Like a hole had opened up under me, and I was falling from a skyscraper. I never loved my father, and I’d always wanted him out of my life... but not like this. Not by death or sickness.

My stomach turned again for the millionth time this evening, and I placed a hand over it. Charles was dying... I didn’t know how to feel, but despite everything I felt towards him and all the horrible things he’d done, I was sad. Sad enough that tears pricked my eyes.

Everyone was muttering and mumbling, but I didn’t look away.

“The doctors told me that any treatment would only make me weak and sick, so I have denied any chemo and radiation,” he continued. “Everyone here knows that I am a very strong-willed man. I won’t let the cancer get the best of me. I have a scheduled euthanasia when my daughter, Odette, graduates from college. If I’m going out, I’m doing it on my own terms, not from an illness.”

Shaky breaths and trembling hands joined my tears. I didn’t make a sound as I stared up at him and cried. Why hadn’t he mentioned anything sooner? Did he feel sick now? Was he in pain?

Charles smiled. “That brings me to address you—all of you. You know I’m a generous man, and my fortune is no secret. Each of you in this room is either my family, trusted and loyal staff, or somehow aided in my success as a close business partner.”

Excited and hushed whispers traveled through the ex-wives, making me sick.

“Each of you holds a special place in my heart, and I will always take care of my family. Edmund, please bring over my will,” he gestured to a man holding a binder behind him.

Edmund stood next to Charles and placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose. The Tweedle brothers weren’t far behind, standing with notebooks, cameras, and tape recorders.

Edmund opened the binder and began reading. “One percent of all Charles Whitlock funds will go to each of his ex-wife’s and their respective families. One percent of his funds will go to each business partner, as disclosed in these documents. Half a percent of his funds will go to his appointed housing staff. The remaining percentage will go to Odette Whitlock’s husband after she is married.”

Everyone in the room was beyond ecstatic as they smiled and celebrated their new fortunes. They made me sick. A man just announced that he was dying, and all they cared about was a check. I was the person that had the most reason to resent him. Fuck, I should hate him! The only tears at the table were mine.

“It’s so good to see you again, dear. I love that dress!” Wife number one complimented while touching my arm. The greedy smile she had plastered on her lips made me recoil away from her touch.

While everyone seemed excited for themselves, most of their stairs were on me. I was the one with the potential to get billions while they had millions.

I never cared about money; no one needed billions of dollars to live a happy life. I didn’t want his dirty money; I never even planned to be married. The fortune would sit in an estate for the rest of my life; I didn’t care.

Everything around me seemed like a hazy dream as Charles said one last thing in a closing statement that I barely heard. Air was struggling to come in and out of my lungs. As I watched everyone eat, laugh, and smile as if we weren’t just told he was dying.

How did they have an appetite? Did they not realize the tragedy they just witnessed? Charles wasn’t a good man by any means; I knew that more than anyone. Still, he was my only family.

It had all been too much for a single night, and I found myself completely emotionally exhausted. I thought of everything and nothing simultaneously as I stared at the leafy greens on my plate that I wouldn’t touch.

All sense of time floated away as everyone started rising from their chairs, wandering around the first floor again. Now, their conversations were about plans they had with their new money. Not one of them seemed saddened.

“Odette,” Charles broke me from my thoughts as he stood. “Clean your face and meet me in my office,” he instructed.

Using my hands, I wiped the tears off my cheeks the best I could and stood on shaky legs. I followed behind him, feeling every pair of eyes in the room on my back.

Once we entered his office, he closed the door behind me. The room was soundproof, which I appreciated. Too many nosy people were outside the doors, including the Tweedle brothers.

He sat at his desk, and I took the seat on the other side. I didn’t know what to expect from this meeting. My best guess was that he had an explanation for the will being in my future husband’s name. It was unbelievably sexist—even for him.

“Tears, really?” He noted.

“You could have warned me. Would you rather I celebrate like everyone else?” I deadpanned.

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his cheek. “Considering you’ve always made me the villain in your story, I’m surprised you’re not,” he said.

“Why am I in here?” I asked. I wanted to tell him how twisted that statement was, but I didn’t think arguing would be appropriate.

He placed two folders on the desk in front of me. “Do you know what these documents are?” He questioned.

My eyes locked on him for several moments before cautiously opening the folders. At first glance, I had no idea what they were, and it took me a few minutes to read each of them over before I had a thorough understanding of what was happening.

Encased in one of the folders were four restraining orders. I read the names and absolute dread. Wyatt Wright. Niko Moreno. Aiden Anderson. Dominic Owens.

In the other folder, there was some kind of certificate with the manor’s address on it.

“What is this?” I couldn’t help but let the words come out as a hiss.

“Restraining orders against each of the men who are taking advantage of you and the deed to their house in my name.” He answered casually.

Taking advantage of me? “There’s nothing going on. I just live there by your doing,” I defended.

“It was a mistake I may never live down,” he admitted. “Don’t disrespect and lie to me, Odette!” He slammed his hands against his desk, making a loud bang.

I flinched further into my chair and averted my eyes. “They didn’t do anything wrong,” I tried again.

“The fact that you believe that shows your naivety. Tell me, if you heard about a young woman living with four male teachers, all almost a decade older than she, what would you assume about that situation?”

Anger replaced my sadness, and I glared at him. “I’d assume a careless father who never gave a fuck about his daughter sent her to live in a house with four complete strangers. What would you assume?” I snapped.

“Never gave a fuck?” He laughed once. “You’ve always had everything you ever wanted. Have I ever told you no? Have I ever given you a spending limit? That tree was filled with extravagant gifts every Christmas, was it not? You are educated, your teeth are straight, you’ve vacationed to places people only dream of, you’ve had the absolute best life, and you dare tell me that I never gave a fuck about you?” He spat.

“You were never there on Christmas! Or any of my birthdays, every school concert or play, you were never in the crowd! I don’t care about things or money. I wanted a dad, and you never gave a fuck about being my dad,” I cried back with my voice cracking.

My skin was hot with anger as we yelled at each other. It was the first time in my life that I didn’t feel scared of him, and it was the first time I’d admitted these things out loud.

“You just told a room full of people that you’re dying, and they were happy about it. Do you understand that? Somewhere along the line, you’ve traded your soul for dollar signs and possessions. Money and your image in the media is all you ever cared about,” I ranted.

“That’s enough!” He yelled, standing from his chair. I shrunk in my seat as he loomed over me, a deadly scowl on his face. “If one more idiotic syllable comes out of your mouth, I’ll shut you up the hard way,” he threatened.

As I looked at the documents again, liquid anger spilled from my eyes. “What are your intentions with those?” I asked.

“It’s an ultimatum,” he answered before sitting again. “I worked incredibly hard to erase that headline of you being a whore in high school. Now, you disrespect me by letting not only one but four of your professors fuck you? Do you know how that makes us look?”

“They’re not—”

“I saw the way they gathered around us at the gym. I was there when Aiden Anderson interrupted our conversation. Don’t you dare lie!” He scolded.

There was no denying it now. “It’s not like that. They’re not taking advantage of me; they didn’t do anything. It was all my idea—”

“Those men are despicable. Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth, Odette? Do you see the similarity between what you’re saying and Stockholm Syndrom? You’re a young, beautiful, naive girl, and these men are manipulating and using you.”

He doesn’t know what he’s talking about…

“I can’t have them fired or reprimanded without also exposing that my daughter is a dumb little slut. So, I was forced to get creative.” He grabbed the folders and placed them on his side of the desk. “You will sign each of these restraining orders and never speak to these men again for the sake of your reputation. If you do not sign them by the time you graduate, I will evict them from that house they seem to love so much, and it will be your fault.”

“You can’t do this,” I trembled. The manor was their home, and they loved that house, even with all of the cracks and issues. Not only was their home being threatened, but their jobs, reputation, and credibility—everything was being threatened because of me.

“I bought that house from the school; I own it; it’s mine. As the owner of the house, I have full capability to evict the current residence at my leisure,” he smiled. “I’m doing this for your own good, Odette. You’re lucky I don’t have them sent to prison.”

“I know you think you care about these men, and I know that you think that they care about you, and for that, I am sorry that I have raised you to be so ignorant and unprepared. This is how the real world works, and it’s time you learn that your actions have consequences.”

“You can stop by to sign the restraining orders anytime before graduation unless you’d like to do it now,” he offered.

His words meant that I still had a month and a half with them before I would never see them again. I knew that I would sign the restraining orders; I couldn’t ruin their lives for my own selfishness. I wanted them and to be with them more than anything in the world. They were my safety and the only people I think I’d ever actually cared about.

Charles was wrong. Yes, they were my professors, but no manipulation or deceptiveness existed in our relationship. I’d known what I had gotten myself into. Still, I never expected Charles to find out about our relationship, let alone threaten them with things so extreme.

Eventually, I would sign the papers so they wouldn’t have to face the consequences of my last name. For now, I had a month and a half before I had to leave and never see them again.

“One day, you’ll look back on this and thank me,” Charles chided. “You’re free to vanish now.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I stood up in haste, walking to the double office doors on shaky legs. I hated him—wholeheartedly and forever. Every time I felt remotely happy in my life, he was always there with a wrecking ball of substantial proportions.

As soon as my palm touched the handle, another wave of anger flowed through me. Why should he get to play innocent, like he’d never done anything wrong when he was the most corrupt person I’d ever known? “Charles,” I articulated loudly, pivoting towards him again. “As your most valuable business partner, I expect my percentage in my own name, as someone who did a fair share of negotiating on your behalf, up in your wing of the house,” I asserted.

It was the first time I had ever seen my father look guilty, and I basked in the emotion. It was clear that he never expected me to remember; after all, I was asleep.

Neither of us uttered another word as I slammed the door shut behind me.

My entire body felt numb as I approached the front door. I didn’t know where Vincent was; I was prepared to call a taxi service to take me home. Many cruel truths were revealed this evening, and I couldn’t bear it for another moment.

“Odette, are you alright?” Vincent asked as he jogged up to me as I walked across the pavement parking lot.

“I want to go home. Please just take me home, okay?” I pleaded as another wave of tears took over. My shaky legs finally failed me, and I stumbled over my heels.

Vincent was quick to wrap his arm around my shoulders, stabbing me as we walked. “Okay,” he agreed.

The drive home was completely silent, neither of us ushering a word to each other. The hours went by quickly as I replayed everything repeatedly in my mind. Once again, I felt like Lux Lisbon. I had no control over my own life.

I needed a distraction, I needed to forget, and I needed to control at least one thing. One good thing had to come from that dinner, and I would make sure it would. No matter how much I had to beg or plead, one of my professors was going to fuck me tonight.

Truthfully, I didn’t know that it would be my first time. For all I knew, I could’ve been raped in my sleep years ago. I guess it made sense why Charles always wanted me to take melatonin before I went to sleep. I was already prone to sleepwalking and night terrors; it made sense. He wanted to take the extra precaution to keep me asleep.

Come to think of it, I never actually needed melatonin at all. I’d been sleeping just fine without it.

It was funny how everything started to make sense as it fell apart.

“Thank you,” I mumbled to Vincent as I exited his car.

“Goodnight,” he responded with worry in his tone.

When I opened the door, my professors were all in similar areas around the living room. My entire body relaxed at the sight of them, and I felt safe again. “Welcome back, Baby—what’s wrong?” Wyatt’s smile disappeared as he stood from his seat on the sofa. I stopped crying an hour ago, but my face was horribly blotchy, and my eyes probably looked dreadful. I was an ugly crier.

“It was a really awful night, and I don’t want to talk about it,” I dismissed quickly.

They knew that something had happened and that something was obviously wrong. Each of them began surrounding me slowly, ready to comfort me. “Did something happen? Are you hurt?” Dominic asked, probably for his own assurance rather than mine.

“No, I’m not hurt,” I rushed out before grabbing Aiden (who happened to be the closest to me) and kissing him.

He was taken aback by the sudden affection, but he kissed me back. “Odette, “he tried to say, but I didn’t want to talk. “Babydoll, stop,” he straightened, leaving his lips out of my reach. “What is going on?” He deadpanned, caressing my cheek. His eyes looked between mine as if he’d unravel the clusterfuck of tragedies that happened tonight.

“I’m tired of waiting,” I grabbed the waistband of his jeans and started undoing his belt. “It’s been over a month of torture, and congratulations, I’ve reached my limit. You win!” I shrugged.

Aiden gently took my wrists and moved them to his chest, stopping my actions to undress him. “Calm down, this clearly isn’t about sex, Odette. Talk to us,” he eased.

“Swan, okay? Is that what it takes for you to understand that I don’t want to talk about it?” My voice broke as I spoke the word. That was what it was for, right? They said to use it when I reached my limit?

A thick silence fell over everyone as they looked between each other and me. “Okay…” Aiden put his hands up in surrender, but the look of concern was abundant on his features. “Tonight’s not the night, Doll. Not when you’re upset—”

“If one of you doesn’t take me up to a bedroom and fuck me thoughtless, I’m going to lose it.”

“Odette,” Niko tried to reason. “Will it fix what’s wrong?” He asked. While he made a great point, I was way beyond reasoning. I needed control.

“No. But I need it to happen, okay?” I tried my best to explain. “I don’t want to be comforted. I want to be distracted. Please.”

The four of my professors seemed deep in thought. They looked at each other as if having a silent conversation, trying to decide if I was insane or not. While they seemed concerned, they obviously came to a conclusion as Aiden slammed his lips against mine.