Chapter 2

Jarek

I follow Liliana home, taking in the house that her foster parents have. It's not bad, nothing close to being delipidated or anything, which is a shame. I was looking forward to giving her shit about it. I'm running out of reasons to talk to my little pauper.

I watch a young boy come toward the house after Liliana has gone in, and I stop him, "Hey, little man, are you Liliana's foster brother?"

Maybe in another world, we would be perfect for one another, but not this one. Liliana Sumner was born on the wrong side of the tracks, and unlike me, when she lost her parents, she was put into the foster system; I was sent to live with my uncle and his wife. Sometimes, I wonder if I would have been better off going into the system, but I'm a Falcon, and Falcons always rise above everything and everyone.

My life has been anything but rainbows and roses. Being from such an influential family keeps me from anyone or anything less than what we are. My uncle's lectures have been ingrained inside every cell in my body, and I'm forced to live a life in the darkness of my family's legacy. A legacy that includes crime families, particularly the Mafia, where secrets are aplenty unless you want an early exit from this world.

Liliana being poor saves her from me. As much as I want nothing more than to have her as my own, my tastes are dark, just like my family's past. I doubt she can handle the things that I would do to her. Others keep trying to talk to her, and she smiles at them; she gives them the smile that is supposed to be mine, so now, I'm going to take her tears because if I can't have Liliana, nobody can have her.

"I'm not little, and yeah. We are both foster kids here; the Mallards don't have kids of their own. Are you a friend of Lily's?"

I don't like how he shortens my pauper's name. I'm the only one who can give her nicknames. I don't care if he isn't in his teens yet; he needs to learn respect. Fortunately for him, I can't be the one to show him the error of his ways.

"Yeah, we go to school together."

"Do you want to come in?"

"Nah, I've got a lot of homework, but thanks for the invite."

The brat shrugs and hurries inside, but I remain here for a little longer, watching the house and hoping for one more glimpse of my little pauper. When my phone pings, I roll my eyes at the caller ID seeing the wicked bitch's name. I ignore it and tuck it back into my pocket before heading to my car and going home.

                                                                           ***

"Jarek, is that you?" I roll my eyes at the sound of my aunt's voice. Carmen is my uncle's second wife and far worse than his first one. Aunt Talia would never have done half the shit that Carmen has done to me.

My uncle's house hides many secrets, past and present, and now, I'm part of those secrets. If I want to keep my inheritance, I must play my role; it's what Carmen reminds me of daily. My uncle never lifted his hand to help me, only to help her because he'd get off on how his wife treated me, and others for that matter. He always liked to see how I would react to her treatment, and I consistently let him down. I was never good enough, but that happens when your uncle is in the Mafia, I guess.

It's not what you think; Carmen isn't a pedophile, but she gets off on some sick shit, just not little kids, thank fuck. As the wife of a mafia member, she holds a lot of weight. If I had disrespected her, then my uncle would have whipped me, yet I disappointed him when I allowed his wife to treat me as she did and still does. It was a never-ending battle.

Physical abuse, check. Emotional abuse, check. Mental abuse, fucking check, check, and check. An adolescent should never see what I've seen her do to others. My uncle wasn't entirely evil, but he was bad enough. He taught me how to take what I wanted and what was owed to us because we owned over half the town. He also taught me that women are only good for being servants to our hunger, but I must always make sure I get their consent first. At least he had some decency. Get their permission and treat them well so that you can do despicable things to them in the bedroom.

My pauper is a special case. Until I know what to do about her, I must ensure she remains close while keeping her at arm's length. Liliana could have it so good if only she's a good little pauper. She should be grateful that I'm showing her attention at all.

"Yes, Carmen, it's me," I finally remember to answer the bitch. She had me stop calling her Aunt Carmen when my uncle died six months ago. I just so happened to have turned eighteen three weeks after his passing, and that's when Carmen started thinking of me as something other than her step-nephew. She keeps me in line by holding my inheritance over my head; otherwise, I'd tell her to go fuck herself.

"Where are your manners, boy?" Her voice is icy, just as sharp as the icicles that form in winter, making them look like lethal weapons.

Hanging my head, I drop my school bag on the floor in the front foyer and count to ten. Then, straightening my spine and hardening my expression, I walk into the sitting room where she awaits my arrival every day. She glares at me as her eyes sweep me from head to toe; I know what her next words will be, and I cringe.

Since I turned of age, I've become Carmen's 'servant.' It's all consensual if you ask her. She even has my signed consent form. Of course, you won't find the threat of not receiving a penny of what is owed to me within it. Carmen gets her way by having me as her servant, and I get my money when I graduate high school.

"I have guests out by the pool, and you knew about them coming, but still, you are insolent and try me at every turn!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I had a flat tire and needed to get it fixed," I grit out. "I will make sure it doesn't happen again."

"See that it doesn't! Now, go change into the appropriate attire and get to work. They are all waiting on you."

Fuck my life, I can't wait for graduation, so I can collect my inheritance and boot Carmen's ass out the door! You would think the woman would know better than to get on my bad side, but she believes she is untouchable. Just wait; her day is coming, just like my little pauper. One day, I will have Liliana Sumner at my mercy.

Carmen is making my life hell at home, so I must release the pent-up anger. What better way than to target my prey? Others watch and laugh, too, and even though I don't like it, I don't stop it because then she will know, and Liliana can never know. Until I can find a way to have her, having my pauper as my assistant is the only way to get close enough.

I'm sure she's confused as to why I'm singling her out, making her do my homework, and kissing my feet when there is a lesson to be learned. I've confused her because I never once gave her the time of day in her three years of high school. I'm a senior, and she's only a junior, but I noticed her on the first day of school in my sophomore year.

I spent every day watching from afar, but not anymore. I need her, and if I can't have her as my own, I will do the only thing I can: make her my 'assistant.' It sounds better than prey or victim. It makes no difference to me if she sees me as mean; at least she sees me as something.

                                                                        ***

I come down in the stupid red thong Carmen makes me wear when her friends are here. Strengthening my resolve, I present myself to her. She gets up from her place on her couch, walks over slowly, and examines my state of dress. She has me in the tightest thong, which showcases the bulge in the front. I am very well endowed for my age; all the Falcon men are.

"Hm, seems you're missing something. Oh, yes, the little gift I got you." She walks to a table and opens the drawer.

What she pulls out has me seeing fucking red. She doesn't say anything as she smirks and walks over to me.

"Kneel," she orders.

Glaring right at her, I drop to my knees, and she wraps a fucking leather collar around my neck. There's a leash attached to it, which she yanks on, indicating she wants me to stand once the collar is secure. She calls me her sex servant, but there is never any sex involved, at least not with her. No, she likes getting off by humiliating others, me especially.

"Now, be a good boy and follow me." She turns and heads for the door, pulling on the leash, and all I can do is follow.

"The guests are out by the pool, and you will do well to please the women however they want." Carmen opens the French doors leading to the Olympic-sized pool at the back of the house. That's when I see all of her guests; none are under the age of fifty, and most are divorced or widowed. "Go be a good boy, and I may have a surprise for you later on."

Her words mean nothing to me because if I've learned anything, it's that Carmen's surprises are never a good thing…