I hated him. But for my brother, I would do anything.
I went down on my knees and proceeded to pleasure the fucking pervert, who got off quickly. Thank fuck for that. Around the time we turned eleven, I learned to block everything during sex. Horrible things were done to me, but I had retreated so far into myself that it almost felt like I wasn't present during the act. All I did was count in my head, one-by-one, and then I always knew when someone was close to finishing. That was the only thing my mind concentrated on. Giving fucking head to S was not an exception.
When it was finished, I studied my reflection in the mirror after almost making my mouth bleed from brushing it so hard. And I vowed once again to get revenge on every single person responsible for this organization.
No one would be left alive.
Once I was out, John and his people were waiting for me. He looked far from happy.
“You fucking whore,” he grumbled and grabbed me harshly. He kicked me in the stomach, but I didn’t react. He hated it, but he could go fuck himself. “I’ll get those damn blankets and medications. The generous S decided to give you a good Thanksgiving dinner. You must have sucked him really hard.” My expression didn't change one bit, because I didn't give a fuck about his words.
Medication, blankets, and good food meant Dominic had a chance of surviving this.
And it was all that mattered.
Sapphire
“Are you hungry?”
Seriously? Before I could say anything to him, which would have been mean, my stomach growled loudly. I wanted to die of humiliation. My body kept betraying me, no sense of cooperation or teamwork. Damian laughed and my eyes snapped to him. He seemed genuinely amused with me, and that played tricks on my heart.
Get your shit together; you just find him hot. No biggie.
It was easier said than done though.
“Have a seat.”
“You think I’ll eat with you?” He raised his brow in question. “For all I know, you could drug me and have your way when I’m unconscious.” He didn't even blink at my accusation and pointed to the table in the middle of the room that held a Caesar salad and green tea. Apparently, he had done his research well, considering it was one of my favorite dishes. If he thought I’d happily jump to follow his command, he had another thing coming. Tapping my foot loudly, my eyes studied the paintings around the apartment. There were several of them, all done in the same black and white filter, representing dull moments like trees without leaves or rain in the middle of the night. Clearly masterpieces, but those wouldn't be paintings I’d like to have in my house.
Ignoring my statement, he placed his laptop on the table and sat on the couch. His piercing amber eyes focused on me. He brought havoc to my emotions as he spoke. “I don’t really need to drug you for anything, Sapphire. All I need to do is touch you.”
My palms hurt from squeezing my fists so hard that my nails dug into my skin, but I held my tongue. What could I have said to that? I cried out his fucking name when his brother was going down on me. No matter what he thought, I wouldn't give him access to me willingly. However, if I wanted to get the hell out of here, I had to be strong, and for that, I needed food.
My butt settled on the couch, I picked up a fork, and I started eating my dinner. Somehow, I found comfort in the simple act, and before I knew it, my plate was empty and my stomach full. The green tea with mint helped soothe some ache inside me, and the flavor calmed my nerves. We were quiet all this time. He was typing something, and it allowed me to study him for a bit. Damian’s face was completely empty of emotions. His fingers moved flawlessly on the keyboard without him even looking at them. With his silky hair in a bun and glasses on, he would look exactly like Dominic.
“Are you done?” he said casually, and I jumped in my seat. His voice was loud in the silent room.
I licked my dry lips and asked nervously, “Done with what?”
He smiled, and that put some of the emotions back, although his eyes stayed cold. He shared this quality with Dominic; none of their smiles seemed genuine.
“Staring at me.”
Shit, that sent a blush to my body and cheeks, and it probably wasn’t missed by him. I straightened my spine and raised my brow. “Not really.”
He was slightly taken aback by my attitude, but then, to my complete shock, he went back to what he was doing before, ignoring my comment all together.
“So that’s all?”
He exhaled a heavy breath, shaking his head. “All?”
“No reaction to my comment?”
“What kind of reaction did you expect?” He rubbed his chin with his three-day beard then furrowed his brows. “You weren't done staring, so I gave you the chance to do that. What else do you want?” His questions were valid; in fact, I didn't understand why I was agitating him or talking with him at all. Maybe because he was acting all nice, and that didn't really sit well with me. It was easier when he was an ass, scary, and cold-blooded. Yet here he was, lounging on the couch, doing God knows what on his laptop, and feeding me.