21-year-old Florence Ivelle struggles through college to claim freedom but gets trapped into a deal with her brother, Alastor, leaving her at his mercy until she graduates. She doesn't expect to be kidnapped into breaking it.
Three masked men take h...
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The next weekend arrived quicker than I wanted it to. I also didn't mean to cry as quickly as I did when Alastor decided against dinner and dragged me to his room instead.
I screamed and kicked, but he just grinned down at me, his lips curling wickedly. "Be nice to your brother," he sneered. "Let me have my fun."
I had stopped calling for help in hopes of being rescued. No one would rescue me; that's what my degree was for. That was how I would save myself.
My brother was slapping my face and laughing at my tears when the door flung open. I jolted in fear, expecting it to be my father, but there was a tall stranger at the door donned in all black and a mask. There was a cold look in his eyes, and I looked at Alastor, wordlessly pleading for him not to let the stranger join, but if my brother knew who was at the door, it wasn't obvious.
Keeping me pinned with a hand to my throat, annoyance laced his tone as he asked, "Who are you?"
The man cocked his head.
Alastor rolled his eyes as he applied more pressure to my throat, causing me to gurgle in pained confusion. "I asked you a fucking question," Alastor snapped. "Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house?"
The man was silent, his eyes flitting to mine before returning to my brother. Before I could blink, he pulled a gun on Alastor.
My brother froze. "All right, okay." He put his free hand up in surrender. "We're all friends here."
The man stepped forward, lifting his hand and curling his index fingers twice.
Alastor began to leave the bed, but a warning shot rang through the room, going right through the edge of the mattress.
I trembled, watching as Alastor spewed curses as he returned to the bed, both of his hands up now. "I thought you wanted me to walk forward," he defended himself.
The man pointed to me.
My blood turned cold.
"Her?" Alastor glared at him. "No," he refuted sharply. "She's mine."
Another warning shot, this time closer to Alastor.
"Okay!" my brother yelled. The sight of his fear almost made mine dissipate into joy. "Okay! Just—Fine! Just fucking take her."
The man held his hand out to me, and as terrified as I was, I was more terrified of my brother, so I left the bed and walked each unsteady step to the stranger. He was quick, retrieving cuffs from his back loop and snapping them around my wrists. Leading me out of the room, I watched Alastor look after us with anger and fear battling for dominance.
I looked away, shuddering as the man took me downstairs.
There were two other masked men in the kitchen, cornering my father into a wall, but they turned when they heard the stranger and I enter.
