Chapter Two

The sunshine burns violently through my window like a damn death ray. "Shit," I grumble. Normally mornings bother me, but not this much. After a long night of suffering with a wild headache and an evening of cleaning the entire house, my head and body are exhausted. Not to mention the start of the Miami heat has kicked in. We are about to be bugs under a magnifying glass on a hot day for the foreseeable future.

I crawl out of bed and dress for the day before my verbal alarm clock goes off. My life sucks, and it's only a matter of moments before my day is about to get worse. I slip on my shoes and then brush my hair. I'm about to tie it up when I hear the pounding hooves at the foot of the stairs.

"Stella, get your lazy ass out of bed and down these stairs before I drag you down here," my stepfather bellows.

"Coming," I called out with the hair tie in my mouth. Rushing downstairs, I hurry into the kitchen where my stepfather is already eating his breakfast bagel and drinking his coffee. "Prepare my eggs and don't make me wait any longer. There's much to discuss today."

I make quick work of his breakfast and work on my oatmeal. Although he has something to say he doesn't mention it throughout the entire meal. In fact, he intentionally dismisses any attempt at conversation and focuses on his tablet where he has his morning stock reports.

When he finishes his eggs and bacon, I pick up the dishes from the kitchen table and move toward the sink. "Please join us for dinner tonight, Stella," my stepfather says. I freeze mid-step with the plates in my hand. My fingers shake violently, and I nearly send the ceramic dishes cascading to the floor, but despite my flood of fear, I know better and set them on the counter next to the sink.

"Is there a reason?" I choke out, fighting my terror.

He slams his chair back, and it skids across the wooden floor, hitting the wall. I try not to react, but my brain is hard-wired to flinch. "Because I fucking said so, Stella. You will do as you're told."

"I…I…I only wondered if it's a special occasion. Something I should wear?" I answer, hating how petrified I am and wishing I had the nerve to stand up to him.

He takes a calming breath. "You need to learn to speak properly. Your best clothes."

I swallow hard, trying to control the vomit in my throat because I had a feeling this day would come. A girl like me doesn't have many options in life, and it's clear those choices are being taken away from me. I nod and turn around to wash the dishes, hiding the tears that ache to fall from my eyes. Whatever tonight holds, it will be the end of any real future.

"Don't act like a petulant brat. I've given you a better life than you would have had if I'd sent you to a home." He mutters something under his breath that I can't hear, but the last bit I do. "Nice piece of ass." My breakfast threatens to come up, and I pray he wasn't referring to me.

Still, I finish the dishes before he has a reason to come into the room and punish me. When I'm done, I head into my room and dig through my outfits, but I have nothing nice. The man hasn't bought me a pretty dress in five years, and my body has grown out of most of the clothes. Luckily, everything I'd gotten before had been bulky because I've matured and my figure fills in the rest.

The door opens without a knock. "Holy shit," I screech out, pressing the small dress to my chest, barely covering my breasts.

"Relax. It's only me." Camille rolls her eyes like it's not a big deal to have someone just storm into your room when you're half naked. She's carrying an armful of dress bags. "I figured you didn't have shit to wear. So, I picked up some new outfits." She tosses them on the bed and then turns to the open door. "Close the door, Tony." Oh my goodness. I can't believe her. "Daddy said he wanted you to appear hot, so these will have to do. Not that you'll look better than me." She giggles as she finishes her words, giving me a cursory glance.

When she utters those words, I understand what tonight is about. I'm meeting the man my stepfather wants me to marry, and that means I will be marrying him if the man finds me appealing. "Shit."

"Girl, get that out now because you know Dad isn't going to tolerate your attitude and mouth. This is for the best, and you know it." He's my warden, but she's just another one of the guards. Camille has never been anything more than a cruel stepsister.

Although she's like her father, she's never hit me, so I don't mind speaking up with her. "The best would be me getting a job and maybe a college education. Finding a husband by choice."

She waves off my concern. "Come on—this guy is wealthy."

"So you know who it is?" I ask, hoping she'll give me some details.

"Um, not really, but I know my dad." My stomach drops because that means there's a financial deal in place. That's the only reason he's eager to spend money on clothes for me.

"So, what do you think I should wear? We're not even the same size." Even though I want nothing to do with this, getting new clothes would be nice.

"I know. I'm about two inches shorter than you, so these dresses are going to show more ass and tits." Damn it.

She pulls out the tightest and most revealing dresses. "If you knew I was taller and everything, why didn't you just get a bigger size?"

"Me going into the store and asking for a larger size? Ugh." She presses her hand to her chest as if I insulted her. There is no doubt that I'm screwed. I pick the least offensive dress in the pile.

"Of course you'd pick the safe one. It doesn't matter. I'll keep the rest and maybe let you borrow one if he wants you for a second date."

"If he wants me, he wants me, so there's no need to show him every inch. What's the phrase?"

She cuts me off. "Yeah, yeah. He'll pay for it all." So she knows that the bastard is willing to pay for me. I bet her father wouldn't sell her off to anyone, but since I'm his stepdaughter, I'm fair game.

****

It's time for dinner, and our guest is about to arrive. All afternoon, I thought about his looks, his age, and his attitude. If he wants me for marriage, then he has to be a total loser.

"Where is Camille?"

"She won't be joining us tonight. She has better things to do. This is just for you, so you better make it worth my effort." My body is full of nerves as I await my fate in the living room. The doorbell rings, and my father goes straight to the door.

"Welcome. Please come in, Thomas."

"Good evening, James." I hear the greeting, and immediately the voice tells me he's not young, as if I had any hope to begin with. They sound similar to each other. When he enters the room, I have to hold back my revulsion at the large, balding man in his late forties.

His eyes rake up and down my body, tracing my figure like a sick vulture. "She's gorgeous, Jimmy." He licks his lips. "You weren't lying."

I gag. "Excuse me."

There's no way I can marry that man. No way.

I run from the room and vomit as soon as I make it into the bathroom. My stepfather comes bursting into the room, fisting my hair, gripping it violently with evil eyes that shake me to the core. That hasn't happened since I was a little girl. With a deadly expression in his eyes, he whispers through clenched teeth, "Wash your mouth, get your ass out there, and behave. You'll pay for this outburst later."

He releases me hard, and my hands barely catch myself against the sink. A moment later, I've managed to compose myself and then exit the bathroom, moving to the dining room where they're gathered. As soon as my presence is known they're attention is on me and I can't help but feel like a spotlight is on me. Still, I give him my fake apology as demanded. "Sorry. My breakfast hasn't sat well with me."

He gives me a snide look and then smiles. "It's okay. I'll make sure it's taken off the menu." Every urge I have to vomit is held back as I politely return his smile.

"How old are you, Stella?" I'm sure he's already aware, but he wants to hear it from my lips.

The bile fills my throat, but I manage to swallow it back. "I'll be eighteen in a few weeks."

"Good. Good." There's a sinister appearance on his face as he focuses on my mouth. "There's so much I can do with that pretty mouth of yours once you're legal."

"The wedding should take place right after her birthday," my stepfather says.

I drop my fork, but I haven't forgotten the warning I'd gotten. "Behave, little girl," Thomas says, taking no issue with correcting me in front of my stepfather.

"Don't worry. She'll be disciplined for her behavior."

He smirks and takes a drink of his wine. "Remember—I want her to be perfect coming to me, so no damage to her face and that innocent little hole."

"Of course." The smirk on his dirty face was something I haven't witnessed before. I bite my tongue because they both just agreed that my stepfather could abuse me as long as he didn't hurt my face or fuck me. I've never been more disgusted.

I just want the night to end. Mercifully, I'm sent to my room before Thomas leaves, but that doesn't stop the punishment. It's in the middle of my sleep when I'm awakened to being pulled from my bed, the belt landing on my body several times. He grips my bicep violently and forces me to stare at him. "You ever disrespect and embarrass me again, and your marriage to Thomas won't save you from what I have planned."

He tosses me onto the floor, and the pain radiates before I black out.