Chapter Four

"You're getting married in two days. You need to live a little before you're tied to that slob for the rest of your life." I shiver in disgust while she continues to pester me by tugging on my slender and already bruised arm. "Come on. It's not like we can't get past your nannies on duty. They're puppets," my stepsister Camille says. For her they are easily manipulated, but they watch me like vultures on an easy meal.

My stepsister and I hate each other, and yet, this is something I can't disagree with. Since I was ten and my mother married her father, I was never once allowed any freedom or fun. When I was younger, friends were limited to the girls at my school, and boys weren't even an option.

Now that I've turned eighteen, I'm being forced to marry a man that nauseates me at the mere sight of him. Hell, just hearing his name makes my stomach roll. The first time I saw him, I nearly vomited on his shoes. I excused myself and ran to the bathroom, blaming it on my breakfast even though my stepfather didn't believe me. Of course, I was later punished with a severe beating.

"You know you want to go clubbing tonight, girl," my stepsister's best friend adds, brushing her long blonde hair in my room. They've been in my room since this morning, bugging me. I actually like Gracie, and I'm not actually sure why she's friends with Camille because they're nothing alike. She's totally perfect, beautiful, smart, and her hair shines like a diamond. The only blight on her record is her friendship with my evil stepsister.

"I don't know," I say, feeling unsure about this. Camille's a total cunt and we don't get along one bit, but a taste of fun for even just one night sounds great—even if I'll pay for it later. I'll be spending the rest of my life submitting to a piece-of-shit loser who works for the mob or something like that. One night of fun sounds wonderful. My fiancé is supposed to be someone important, but I met the man. He comes in with his shirts rumbled, clothes less than neat, and gross looking—a total slob.

"You do. Have a little fun before you have to deep throat Tommy's sausage roll." I swallow the bile that instantly fills my mouth. Damn it, Camille is such a bitch.

"Ew. Must you be a disgusting bitch?" Gracie says. Even she has the decency not to remind me how horrible my future will be. The internal anguish building every hour feels unbearable, and I can't tell if my evil stepsister is truly unaware how awful this is for me, or if she honestly relishes the torture. It's more than likely the latter.

"I'm just saying it's what he's going to want." Death is looking better and better every day, but I don't want to give them the satisfaction. Still, I'm not sure I can stomach being married to a filthy monster even for just a minute.

"Yes, and now I'll be a vegetarian for life." Gracie gags, pressing her hand against her mouth.

"Girl. Please, just come out tonight. It will be your bachelorette party. He's having his stag party. The guards are minimal. You get one last final hurrah, and it'll be a blast." Camille gives me a pleading stare.

"Fine." I relent and cave to their pleading.

"Yay!" they squeal like preteen girls.

"And you can't back out. We're going to my bedroom to find some outfits for tonight." She points her finger at me, and I give her a silent nod, hoping she'll give me some peace. Thankfully, she does, leading Gracie to the door.

The girls leave me in my room alone. I have no interest in what they pick because I want to dance and drink to forget what's going to happen. Maybe I'll even get my first kiss by a man of my choice. A man who doesn't make me sick to stare at. Someone who stirs a hint of interest. It doesn't even need to be insane lust or love at first sight because I don't have time for that, but I want a shot at something of my choosing—just once.

Closing my eyes, I allow myself for the first time a fantasy of meeting a tall, dark, mysterious stranger while the music is so loud we can't hear more than the pounding of our own hearts.Will he cup my face, look deep into my eyes, and command me to give him my lips?

It's too much, and I feel the pleasure down to my core as I imagine his lips falling on mine as I let out a moan. My hands grip the worn-out pillow and bring it to my face, only to have my bedroom door fly open.

"Girl, we were calling your name for like two minutes," Gracie says.

"Trying to suffocate yourself?" Camille adds. "It's not going to work like that, dummy. Anyway, get up. We're getting ready to leave."

"Ugh, whatever. How are you going to get me out? You know I can't leave."

"Don't worry about that."

Twenty minutes later, we're packed up and ready to leave the house with the extra clothes in our overnight bags. All we need to do is talk to her father about the sleepover at Gracie's.

My stepsister is allowed to leave without asking for permission, but she needs to get approval to take me with her. I stand at the bottom of the stairs and listen to their conversation. He's sitting on his favorite recliner watching the Heat game. When he sees Camille, he pauses it. "What's going on, princess?"

"Hey, Dad. Stella and I are going to Gracie's for a sleepover."

"Have fun." He waves. My hand clasps over my mouth with shock because he didn't stop me from going.

"Wait." I think he's going to tell her, "Hell, no," but then he asks, "Is her brother going to be around?"

"I doubt it. He doesn't live there." I'm not sure who her brother is or anything, but he's supposed to be popular and wealthy. Camille hasn't even formally introduced me to her friend because I'm not important enough, so I don't know her as anything more than Gracie.

"Pity. He's rich, and you could try to meet him." Of course he wants to push a hot guy who isn't old or gross toward her.

She waves off the idea like it's stupid. "Anyway, I was thinking of doing a makeover for Stella before the wedding. One nice little sisterly bonding thing."

"That's so sweet of you, pumpkin." I want to roll my eyes, but it's actually what we're doing so I'm looking forward to having my hair and makeup done.

"I know, right? She should be grateful, but I'm sure she'll find something to complain about. Anyway, we'll be leaving soon." There is the Camille I know.

He looks at me and glares. "You better behave, young lady. Don't think you're going to be plotting any escape while at Miss Grace's. Tommy's guards won't be far from the house," he warns me with a sneering wag of his finger.

"I know. I'm not going anywhere. I know I'm a prisoner for the rest of my life," I mutter that last bit, but his eyes bulge out, having heard every word.

"Don't act like a little bitch. You've been given every privilege when you came from nothing. Your mother was a dirty whore, and now you're getting a chance to marry up." He loves to degrade her even though he's the one who visited her workplace weekly, paying for sex because he couldn't get it for free.

I fight the anger building up in me because it's only going to get me hit again. I've already gotten a bruise from this morning's outburst. My future husband-to-be doesn't care that my stepfather hits me as long as I have all my teeth and he doesn't leave any scars. So, bruises are more than okay if I deserve them, which they both agree I do.

Sometimes, I feel like the only way out is the ultimate way out. I've considered it more times than I should. Maybe it would be better to find help, but who can I trust? Everyone seems to be on his side, and the only time I was able to confide in a teacher, I was pulled from the school and transferred to a special school where I was no longer allowed to have private discussions with teachers, and friends were out of the question.

"Yes, Stepfather." I nod and walk away. He's quickly on his feet and grips my forearm, spinning me around.

"Did I dismiss you?" I mask the pain and shake my head. "Answer me, little bitch."

"No, Stepfather."

"That's right." He wrenches my arm downward, releasing it violently, sending pain through my shoulder. I yelp, but I don't shed a tear because I can't let him see me cry. I learned a long time ago that he enjoys it too much, and I'm done giving him the pleasure.

"We've got to get going. Gracie's parents are pretty strict about people coming to their house after eight," Camille says, defusing the situation.

"Okay. Run along and have fun." I follow my stepsister and Gracie out of the house with our bags.

Gracie gives me a stare of sympathy, but Camille rolls her eyes and says, "She knows her place, and yet she does things to get herself in trouble." She always acts like I deserve it, too.

I don't say a word because all I want is to go out and get wasted, forget about what my life will be.

"So, how are we getting out of your house?" I ask Gracie as she drives us away from my stepfather's home.

"My parents aren't home. They're in Bali on their second honeymoon. Tonight we're going to my brother's club, and he'll let me in because I'll behave, but that means we'll be closely watched by his men." She gives my stepsister a warning glance, and I wonder if there's going to be a problem.

"He's not going to rat us out, will he?" I ask, hoping that we don't get caught.

She scoffs. "My brother doesn't snitch. Although, he might send us home if we get out of hand, so we have to at least behave, which means no fucking guys in the bathroom, Camille."

I pretend that I'm not shocked about that little bit of information. I had no idea that my stepsister was having sex with men let alone in bathrooms. "It was one time. Geez, I don't know why your brother doesn't like me."

"He has rules, that's all." As we drive on, a realization strikes me. She's not doing this for me at all. Camille can't get into the club without a good reason after burning her bridge with Gracie's brother, and now I'm the reason. We get to Gracie's house, and she leads us up to her bedroom. "Leave everything here and change. I'll do your makeup soon. Just let me change." Within two hours, we're ready to leave.

"Okay, we're going to be on our best behavior," she says, giving Camille a warning. She looks at me and whispers, "You can have fun." She tosses me a wink before sliding into the back of the car with her driver taking the lead.

Anxiety fills me as we get closer to the club. I have never been out of the house other than to school and back in so many years, and definitely not to have fun. I've defied so many rules tonight that I know I'm gonna be punished heavily, and yet the excitement inside me grows.

The second we pull up to Body Count, the driver opens the door for us. Gracie exits first, followed by Camille, while I step out last, tugging at the hem of my short dress. Gracie grabs my hand and leads us to the front of the line. The security guard outside the club recognizes Gracie and smiles. "He's not gonna be happy that you're here… with her." His gaze lands on my stepsister. But then his eyes fall to me and he adds, "But who the hell are you?"

His stare lingers too long, enjoying every inch of my figure, and that annoys Camille. "She's engaged, jerk."

"I don't see a ring." He pointedly glances at my bare fingers.

"That's because she's out to have one last night of fun. Keep trouble away," Gracie warns him with a tip of her chin and an arch of brow.

He scoffs and glares right at Camille. Damn, she must have a really shitty reputation here. "You brought trouble with you. You're lucky you are the boss's sister."

He lets us through, smiling at me one more time. I nervously enter the club and am bombarded with loud music that drowns out all thoughts.

Camille drags me straight to the bar, which isn't legal, but she's obviously not one to follow rules.

"Oh, no. Boss told me you were off limits, girl." The woman looks at me and says, "Never seen you before."

Her earpiece blinks and then she steps back, holding up a finger for us to give her a moment.

"Ugh, seriously. I need a drink," Camille complains.

Immediately a man slides in between us, facing me. "Hey, beautiful. I'll buy you whatever you want."

"Okay," she answers.

His eyes land on me, lingering longer and more lecherously than the doorman. "I was talking to your friend." I'm not interested, but I am thirsty.

"If you buy her one, I need one too," Camille says, pouting at him.

"Sure. Anything for a pretty face." He hasn't taken his eyes off me. Another bartender appears, and he gets us a drink quickly. The guy takes it and then slides it into my hand. "Here you go, sexy. You need to loosen up."

I'm not sure I can do it, but Camille tells me to relax and hands me hers, telling me it's sweeter. "Hold your nose and drink it down in one gulp." I do, and although it tastes a bit funky, it's not terrible. This will be my only time getting wasted, so I might as well enjoy it.

"Wow, sweetheart. Slow down or I'll be carrying you over my shoulder tonight," he whispers against my ear. His hot breath turns my stomach, and I want to shove him away.

Suddenly we're crowded by a hulking man who I have to crane my neck back to look up at and has to be almost as wide as I am tall. He looks down at us and says, "Boss wants you two up in VIP now."

"The ladies are with me," says the guy who bought our drinks, sliding his arm around my waist.

"Get the fuck lost, or should I tell Mr. Valentino we have a problem, Ernesto?" the beefy man snarls.

"No problem, Rocco." He throws his hands up. "See you around, beautiful." He winks at me, grabbing my ass, and I gasp, wanting to swat his hand away, but Rocco pushes him first.

"That wasn't wise, Ernesto." The threat in Rocco's voice reminds me of my stepfather's men.

"Just showing my girl a good time." I don't even know this dude, and I'm not interested in the least. Why is it that the first guy to hit on me is a sleazeball?

"Where's Gracie?" I ask, trying to defuse the situation. Besides, we lost Gracie the second we came into the club. Since she's the owner's sister, I'm sure she's safe, but I'm still curious.

"She's already up there," he grumbles.

"VIP?" Camille asks, looking annoyed as hell.

"Yes," Rocco answers.

"He's trying to keep an eye on us. Let's bounce," Camille tosses out, tugging me.

"I don't think that would be wise, little trouble," he growls, giving her a look that instantly gets her to behave. He leads us upstairs to a private lounge before calling the server, who brings us some drinks. Rocco slides closer to me with his large thighs touching mine, giving me an unsettling feeling. I think the alcohol is getting to me, and my head is spinning along with the club lights.

Then, out of nowhere, the air in the lavish space changes. I glance up and see a tall man in an all-black suit. He's not nearly as broad as the brute next to us, but there's a natural danger to his presence. His stare meets mine with his dark gray eyes that are almost the color of steel, and a deep shiver washes over me. I know that I've become his prey.

Immediately I duck my head as my heart slams against my ribs. There's nowhere to run as he stands at the only exit. I'm at his mercy, and for some reason, I know he's not one to grant it.