Valor

Chapter 38

*another flashback...this one will be helpful later in the story ;)

"You've got a beautiful woman there." The man with the foul breath says in front of me. My eyes are on the ground, as they always are, that is until Marco asks me to look. I've learned over the years that the only way to avoid punishment is by following the rules exactly as he lays them out. Even then, sometimes he finds a reason to torture me.

It's dinner parties like these that matter the most though. Everytime he comes into the basement with a dress and heels, a smile on his face, I know I'm going to have to put on a persona I know is not true.

Tonight I wear a long red ballgown that is straight cut across my collarbones with long sheer sleeves. I always wear conservatively covered dresses with Marco's men, mostly because he doesn't want them to see the cuts or bruises.

It's bad for business.

Marco pulls my waist tightly against his side, placing a gentle kiss against my temple.

"I know. Can't let this one go." He says sweetly.

There is nothing sweet or gentle about this man. If anything the words are scary leaving his mouth and I know deep down that they hold true. He will never let me go, no matter how hard I kick and scream. The only way I'm leaving this compound is in a body bag.

"So, tell me Lilah, how'd you and Marco meet?" The man asks. This is one of those times that I know I must lift my eyes to see his face, but a part of me doesnt want to. I know once I do that I'll see just another version of Marco and that is terrifying in itself.

Marco squeezes my waist, our signal that I'm allowed to raise my eyes and speak. We've gone through this so many times, I know the answers like the back of my hand. The lies flow easily off my lips so it doesn't surprise me that people buy them. I lift my eyes and let a soft smile grace my face.

"We met at the pier about three years ago." I gaze up to meet Marco's lifeless eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes might've once made me swoon if I saw him in any other situation, but now all I see when I look at them is the liquor he drinks and the violence he inflicts.

His eyes blaze down at me like an inferno, making the energy around us feel charged. My skins starts to heat, a beat of sweat rolling down my spine and his grip gets tighter on me, his body molded to mine as if we are lovers.

I want to scoff because we are anything but lovers. I am his lover in name only simply because he likes the way I look and he loves the way I submit.

"It was love at first sight. One look at those beautiful brown eyes and I was a goner." I say, letting my smile glow, but my eyes remain cold. I continue to look at Marco for a few moments before he breaks contact bringing us both back to the present.

He's not going to like that I just challenged him even if it was simply with a stare. I'm going to pay for that later.

The man before us is looking at us with a knowing smirk. It's a smirk I know very well–he see's the hate between us and thinks its romance. He sees the way my body flushes in fear and thinks its arousal. He sees the way Marco grips me and thinks its possessiveness not dominance.

Marco places a kiss once more on my temple and continues his conversation with the men before him. I look back down to the floor, following the intricate patterns of the wood. I drown out all they talk about. It's nothing important to me, and honestly if Marco had any inkling that I was holding onto that knowledge he would do worse than beat me.

The night goes on as any other night would. There's a lot of drinking and a lot of talking. The men talk about their escapades and the women don't say a word. It's a harsh reality, but its the world we live in. I stopped hoping for one of these men to save me after the first night. A small part of me thought that they'd see the pain in my eyes and come in like the knight I dream of so often.

I always search the crowds of party goers for dark hair and whiskey colored eyes–my knight–-but he is never there. He doesn't exist and deep down I know that, but I still hold onto hope. Hope is the only thing that keeps me alive.

"You did well Lilah." Marco's voice rings in my ears making me snap my body back. I go rigid, wondering how I could be so obtuse to daze off in the middle of the party.

It's certainly not the middle anymore, the last guest has just left, and Marco's servers and cleaners have begun wrapping up the room.

"Come with me." Marco says holding out his hand. I don't think before I place mine in his. It's a conditioned response, one I don't even know when I picked up.

Naturally I don't say a word as we ascend the staircase. He leads me down the hall towards where his wing is.

I've been brought to his office before, usually for direct discipline or simply to show face to some important investor or business partner.

Marco doesn't direct me to his office this time. He goes down an opposite hallway, leading me further into his wing. It makes me shiver, and I can't help but wonder if he is leading me to my death. There is nothing more secure than Marco's wing. I would have a better chance of surviving in the basement than up here and that's what scares me the most.

Marco is quick to type in a code to the door, out of my sight, before it is swinging open. He guides me inside and closes the door behind me.

I take a moment to look around, noting the large cream and grey bed. There's windows across the opposite wall with french doors leading to a large balcony.

To my right is a small sitting area with a fireplace, and to my left is a huge walk in closet as well as an ensuite.

Marco's presence is like a wildfire behind me. He's so close I can feel every nook and groove of his body pressing against mine.

He sweeps the hair from my neck, and brings his lips to the shell of me ear and along my neck.

"Would you like to stay here with me, Lilah? Would you like to be mine?" he whispers, his voice filled with lust.

He continues leaving kisses along my exposed skin, all the while I can only think about those words he spoke to me.

Stay here? With him? Be his?

"For how long?" I ask my voice hoarse with what he would describe as need, but what I describe as fear.

He chuckles softly against my skin, his one hand on my waist tightening while his other hand snakes around my front, grabbing my throat, and forcing my head back against his shoulder.

"Forever." He whispers darkly into my ear, his grip on my throat tightening slightly.

We're so close there is no doubt he can feel my pulse thrumming and my body shaking.

"Yes, Marco." I say, my voice hollow. There's no choice really. It's either I say yes and take what's coming or I say no and sign my death warrent.

"Good girl." He purrs, unwrapping his hand from my throat and bringing it to the back of my neck where he slowly grabs the zipper and opens my dress, letting it fall and pool on the floor.

Marco doesn't allow me to wear a bra or panties when I am with him. I think it's just another form of dominance and control, but I also think deep down he likes knowing that he could fuck me anytime he chooses to.

He starts pushing me forward until I am bent over the front of the bed, my hands gripping the comforter for dead life as I hear Marco undo his belt and groan.

I let a single tear roll down my cheek knowing Marco won't be able to see it.

I only let one tear fall though.

Maybe hope is a silly idea after all.