Chapter 3

We got in his black Audi after he made an excuse that he had to leave to get cleaned up and he was taking me, seeing as I was also covered in shaving cream. No one thought it was weird that he was leaving his wife. I didn't want to drag Brandon into my mess, so I told him I needed to get washed up. 

Inside the car, he spoke in rapid Russian through his bluetooth and that was when true fear settled in. What would he do? 

He finally rolled into a gravel driveway and stopped at a huge house. He didn't give me time to admire the architecture as he quickly climbed out of the car and dragged me out with him, entering through huge wooden double doors. 

"Look, I'm sorry. We can settle this like two sane people." I hated this pleading tone, but I had to put my safety first. 

My words fell on deaf ears as he continued dragging me up the stairs. I couldn't even assess my surroundings, seeing as I had more pressing issues to think about, such as my life.

He dragged me up the carpeted stairs into a bedroom and locked the door. For a moment, he just faced the door, I could see his shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath he took, hopefully to calm himself down. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat, looking at his shaving cream coated body, but I managed to keep it inside. 

He didn't even look at me as he went into the bathroom. As soon as I heard the shower turn on, I leaped to the door. I should've known it was locked. I looked around the room, taking in the grey colored walls with black lace curtains covering the windows. 

In the centre of the room was a queen sized bed with a purple duvet and beside that, there was a nightstand with several drawers. 

I immediately searched each drawer looking for some sort of tool to pick a lock, and sat back on my heels when I found each drawer empty, except for the occasional dust ball. 

I heard the bathroom door creak and I immediately stood upright. 

He came out of the steaming shower, rubbing a towel in his wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. I immediately looked away, my cheeks burning up. 

"Cut the bullshit. I doubt you haven't seen a dick in your life." He spat out. 

My gaze immediately snapped to his and I felt the same temper rising again. 

"You don't know anything about me. For your information, you're my stepfather, just reminding you in case you lost some of your brain cells on the way here. You shouldn't talk to me like this. Don't be a creepy pervert!" I was panting by the end of my tirade. 

My finger firmly dug into his chest and I immediately retracted it. Before I could take a step back, he caught my wrist hard enough to bruise it and dragged me to another room. 

This one had black walls with red accents. A sheer white curtain billowed from the air through the open window and this room was much larger than the previous one. This one had a king size bed with a thick wooden headboard. 

He walked into a closet and a minute later, he came out dressed in a similar white shirt tucked into grey trousers and shiny black shoes. 

I saw faint bruising on my wrist, but I didn't have much time to think about it as he grabbed my other wrist and dragged me to the right and pushed open a wooden door. 

I was prepared to see a sketchy BDSM set-up, but I saw something stranger. 

This room had black carpet covering the floor and a huge throne was placed a step above the floor. 

It was a gilded throne with deep magenta cushions. There were various types of gemstones on the arms of the chair. 

I really, really couldn't stop the scoff from falling out of my mouth. He immediately turned to me and latched his fingers around my throat. I stared at him in shock. When he started dragging me forward with pressure on my neck, I scratched his hand, but he didn't let go, until we reached the stupid throne. 

When he finally let go of me, I crumpled in front of the throne, coughing and gasping to catch my breath. 

I saw his shiny shoes in my line of vision. When I finally caught my breath, I looked up at him with loathing. I wanted to get up on my feet, but my knees were still wobbly. 

"That will be the last time you disrespect me, little girl."

"I'm so sorry. Please don't do anything to me. I'll be good. I promise." I pleaded. 

A beat passed between us and when I saw a flicker in his eyes, I laughed. 

"You thought I'd say that, didn't you? Give me your best shot old man." 

To be honest, he wasn't an old man, but he kept calling little girl. It was only fair to call him old man. 

He lept out of his throne before, I could blink and came behind me, holding both my wrists in one hand and tugged them down so I was sitting on my heels. 

I felt the unmistakable cold metal of a knife against my artery. 

"Now, confess your sin." 

I tilted my head up and looked at him incredulously, then narrowed my eyes at him. 

"I have done no such thing. I haven't committed any sin." 

I said with false bravado, but one of his hands landed in my hair, twisting the red roots and and arching my head up even further. Now I was really scared. 

"Now confess your sin. Start with the cross and the usual line, but don't call me Father, call me Daddy."

I hated him with all my heart. 

"Bless me Daddy, for I have sinned." I said through gritted teeth. 

"Confess."

"I arranged for shaving cream to be dumped on your head."

"Now for your penance."

I sucked in a breath as he released me and sat back on the stupid throne. He crossed his legs and put the tip of his shoe near my face. 

"Kiss my shoe and apologize."

My body was shaking with rage. I was prepared to spit on his shoe, but his eyes narrowed as if he could read my thoughts. 

"If you spit, I'll make you lick it off."

He eased my head down and I kissed his shoe. My tears splashed on his shoe. They weren't tears of shame or grief from this debasement. No. They were tears of fury. A promise of retribution. 

I didn't think, I just did. I dug into his ankle with my nails, piercing his skin relentlessly, satisfied with the blood. 

He hissed and I suddenly got up, ready to run, but his arm was a steel band around my stomach, pulling me into his body on the throne. He wedged one of his leg between mine, spreading my legs. I wriggled and squirmed, but he held on tight as he grabbed one of my bare breasts out from the top of my dress. I cried out as he squeezed it in his palm, pulling my nipple through the webbing of his hand. 

"Don't touch me!" I screamed at him, trying to bite his hand. 

I was repulsed by the steel length on the side of his leg. 

"You have no right to do this!" I squirmed harder, but he grabbed my jaw, making me freeze. 

He licked the shell of my ear and whispered. 

"I have no right? You will see that I do. From now on, you are my slut. My whore."

What. The. Fuck? 

I screamed, not wanting to listen to him. He squeezed my breast again, roaming his other hand over my body, stopping between my legs as he strummed my core with his long fingers through the white lace of my dress. I shoved my head back, but I got hurt instead as it collided with his collarbone. 

"That makes these tits mine. This pussy mine. This whole body mine and I will do with it whatever I goddamn please."

I bucked in his hold, wanting to burn my ears from his disgusting delusions. 

I finally slithered down his legs and manged to stand on my own feet. He remained in his stupid throne, just watching me as I tucked my breast back into my dress. I wanted to run far away from him, so that's just what I did.