Blood drips steadily from my temple. The softdripis what wakes me out of my stupor. The movies all make it seem like one second you’re unconscious and the next, you’re wide awake. That’s not how it actually goes. I’ve been beaten into unconsciousness enough to know that it’s like wading in deep waters and trying to drag yourself up to the surface to wake up. Sometimes, you don’t want to. It’s just easier to let your attacker keep going at it while you remain blissfully unaware. I don’t have that luxury. Not now.
I press my lips together to keep the groan of pain in my chest from escaping. When I do finally manage to crack my eyes open, one is so swollen that there’s nothing but a slit of bare light that penetrates it. Even that small amount of light makes the inside of my skull throb. Thankfully, my other eye is still at least mostly functioning.
I scan the room, carefully seeking out the figure I know is standing there in the dark. And as if he senses my awareness, he steps into the ring of light that illuminates the place where I hang from a heavy chain slung over the rafter’s beams.
When I was a child, I was so frightened of this man. Where other children feared some imaginary monster under their beds or in their closets, I had the unfortunate circumstance of knowing mine face to face. His arrogance. His cruelty. His expectations—the ones I’ve never quite met.
My father places a thick rolled cigar between his lips and sighs as he leans to the side. A flame ignites in the darkness and I watch as one of his men steps forward with a lighter and burns the end until it glows cherry red. Bastard can’t even light his own fucking smokes. Pathetic.
I don’t know when I stopped being afraid of Damien Icari and became angrier and more resentful, but the switch was a healthy one. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to live the rest of my life constantly freezing over every little thing he does. The day I stopped being scared of him was the day I’d given up on ever making him happy. It was the day he lost most of his power over me.
He’s hated it ever since.
“You disappoint me, Isaac.”Shocker.I’d roll my eyes if I had the energy. “You were supposed to watch the girl,control her. We had a deal—you and I.”
“A deal?” I cough out the words, spitting a wad of blood directly at his feet. His gaze slides down to the congealed dark mess before it moves back to me. “Deals are only made when both parties have something to gain.”
“You think you had nothing to gain?” Damien pulls the cigar from his mouth and blows out a cloud of smoke before taking a careful step over the blood I’ve spat on the floor. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me, so close I can smell the tobacco and feel the heat of the ashy end as he pushes it right in my face. He holds the end of the cigar right over my swollen eye. A threat. A promise.
I bare my teeth at him. “Don’t fucking tease me with it old man,” I growl. “If you’re gonna do it, then do it.”
He chuckles darkly and the heat of the cigar leaves my face. “You’re like a wild animal,” he says. “So full of spite and anger. I thought I’d raised you better.”
“Is that what you called it? Raising?” I hiss through my teeth as he reaches down and clamps a hand over my shoulder. With my knees on the cold concrete floor, even through the ripped jeans I’m wearing, it hurts.
“Pavlov had the right idea,” Damien says absently. “Training and raising, it’s all the same thing. Perhaps that’s why you’ve become this way. Only, I expected a bit more loyalty. Was it the reward system?” I tilt my head up as he cocks his own to the side, contemplating his own words.
“Fuck you,” I spit again. My mouth is flooded with saliva and the rusty taste of my own blood.
Damien looks down at me once more. His hand snaps out and latches onto my chin as he tilts me up further, craning my neck to force my eyes to meet his. He doesn’t bend or offer to make it any easier on me. Of course not. Damien is a man that expects the world to fight for his service. To do whatever it takes to grant him his desires.
Wooing Emilia Summers is probably the most work he’s ever had to put into anything and Aurora has damaged those efforts of his. As the one responsible for her, it’s my duty to take this torture. Just the mere thought of Aurora in my current circumstances—her own hands bound above her head, her body beaten black and bloody, her humanity stripped bare—is enough to make me feel grateful that it’s me instead.
How our relationship has changed this much, I doubt I’ll ever truly understand. It was so quick, the shift. Like a light switch had been turned on and I never even knew I’d been in the dark. I am the beast and she is the sun.My sun.
“Aurora Summers will convince her mother to come back to me,” Damien says.
I can’t withhold my snort. “You can’t get her to do what you want like you do everyone else.” She’s not controllable. Not to anyone—not even me. Despite all my asking, I know she’d only done what she did tonight because shewantedto. Because she saw a good reason to. Not because I’d told her to do it.
Damien’s fingers grip tighter until my mouth pops open with the threat of breaking my fucking jaw. “While I respect your pride, my son, I would advise you to quell that rebellious streak of yours now and in the future.”
I’d respond if I could, but he’s holding me so tight that any words I might speak are a chance that I’d be spending the next few months with a jaw that’s wired shut. I love talking too much—and more so, I love what my mouth can do to a certain blonde brat too much to risk that. So, for one of the few times in my life, I restrain myself.
“I don’t care what you do to fix this situation I’ve been put in, Isaac,” he states. “I don’t care if you continue to fuck her, but you will do whatever is necessary to make sure I get what I want from Emilia Summers. The institution of marriage is abhorrent, I agree, but in this, our goals need to be mutual. Do I make myself clear?”
His hand releases me and allows me to speak. “Why does it even matter?” I snap. “You’re just using her. You could use anyone else for what you want.”
Damien tilts his head down at me. “What exactly is it that you think I want, Son?” His gaze narrows and I realize my mistake. I clamp my lips shut, but it’s far too late for that. His grip slides into my hair and yanks my head back so I’m forced to stare up at him. The burning in my scalp is nothing compared to the pit of rage in my stomach, though.
“Have you been peeking where you shouldn’t have been, Isaac?”
While some believe that the truth will set you free, when it comes to my father, I know better. Half-truths are safer. Deflections and distractions. “You’ve never hidden your dark side from me,” I remind him. “I know what kind ofbusinessesyou run. You wouldn’t marry Emilia Summers if you weren’t using her for something. You told me as much yourself.”
“Yes, I did, but I never told you the specifics,” Damien responds. “You’re starting to make me think I’ve allowed you too much freedom. I don’t mind a little curiosity—it’s natural in a young man. What I don’t tolerate, however, is my own son looking intomyprivate affairs on his own.”
“I—” The slap comes before I can complete a sentence. The back of his hand slams into my face so hard that it whips my head to the side and sends a bolt of pain through my skull. He releases my hair and my jaw drops down as I spit out another wad of blood onto the floor at his feet. My tongue is coated in the nasty taste of rust.
“This conversation is over, Isaac,” he states. Damien takes a step away from me, his pristine, Italian leather shoes making soft sounds on the concrete floor as he goes. “Have Emilia return to me before the end of the week, or the next person to find themselves here will be someone you actually care about. Paris or Shepherd seem like good choices.”
My body tightens all over and I look up as one of my father’s men moves around to my back. The chains holding me up loosen as they're unlocked. My father takes one look back and smiles. “Or Emilia’s daughter,” he says. “If I can’t have Emilia, then there’s no point in saving her anymore.”
No!The scream echoes in my head, but thankfully doesn’t come out. I force it down, biting down on my tongue until fresh blood fills my mouth. He means it—I know he does. I can see the truth in his cold, greed-filled gaze. And he sees it, too, I realize. The truth I’ve tried so hard to hide.
“I warned you, Son,” he says. “Women are and always will be the downfall of man.”
