Page 7 of Isabela

They call my uncle whenever I do anything from changing a class to taking an extra course because he’s “paying” for it. It’s a bullshit excuse I’m tired of him using. My trust fund is paying for my education, not him.

Taking a steadying breath, I merely smile politely instead. After his lewd looks, there’s no way I want anything to be misconstrued as interest. He’s easily thirty years my senior, not to mention married.

No, I refuse to believe my uncle dragged me down here so I could flirt with the mayor.

“My niece is very intelligent, and it’s one of the reasons I’ve asked her to take over the bookkeeping at the company,” Uncle Eli says with a shark-like smile. “She’s overseeing it all for now, but it’ll be happening very soon.”

“Would you consider contracting out her skills possibly?” Mayor Markship asks, rubbing my shoulder with his thumb. My body breaks out into goosebumps in revulsion, and as I look around, I notice that no one can see what he’s doing, because of the angle of his body.

Uncle Eli crowds me on the other side with a sly smile. This cannot be happening. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Like what you see?” he asks. There’s this smug boys club look about him I’ve never noticed before. I’m frozen in fear, and I’m not sure if being beaten within an inch of my life or whatever this is would be better.

“I do,” the mayor hums. “Is she untouched?”

Fuck, I’m out.

“Excuse me, I need some air,” I gasp, turning and moving as quickly as I can without tripping. No one notices as I flee from City Hall, or at least attempt to. Uncle Eli is on my heels, but I don’t realize until his hand is wrapped in my hair and he fists it as he pulls back.

“Nooo,” I sob as my legs fly out from under me.

“You embarrassed me,” he growls. “Find your feet, or I’ll drag you where we’re going by your hair, girl.”

Tears of shame run down my cheeks, not because I’m promiscuous, but because I promised myself I’d do whatever it took not to be vulnerable in front of him. Gasping as I awkwardly plant my feet and stand, I start walking in the direction of his choice.

I hear people mutter, “Poor dear,” but no one lifts a finger to stop this. Instead, I’m marched down the hallway to what I assume is an empty office before he opens the door and shoves me inside. I can’t go very far, though, since his fist is still wrapped in my hair.

“Whatever this is, you can’t be serious,” I plead. “I thought I was here for the company, to show support for the charity!”

My uncle unravels his hand from my hair and shoves me away, rolling his eyes.

“Silly girl. Your apartment and car are expensive.” He shrugs. “The trust only pays for your tuition, so I need you to start pulling your weight, girl.”

I hate the way my name sounds in his mouth, but I hate this more. It’s as if he’s disconnecting himself from whatever is about to happen.

I am pulling my weight, I work for my family’s company doing the books when asked, and I have my teacher’s assistant position at the school.

“What do you want?” I whisper. It’s the question I want to know the answer to more than anything. The tears are still flowing, and I hate myself for it. I want to pull them back, but this entire situation is vile.

“Are your ears broken?” he asks. “I want you to start pulling in money. Mayor Markship needs a new girl to fuck, and while we were drinking tonight, we made an agreement. He is willing to pay more for your fat ass than I thought possible. Your life is expensive, what did you expect would happen? I’m tired of paying for your little fantasy. An education is merely putting you further in my debt, girl.”

“You want me to start working at the company, take a seat at the table, but you act as if I’m the help doing your books,” I tell him, swiping at my cheeks.

I’m starting to get angry. He insists I live in an off campus apartment, and I pay all of my expenses. I also know for a fact my vehicle is paid off.

My parents bought it for me while I was in high school.

“The SUV is mine and paid for. I’m either your book keeper or the heiress to this company. Which is it?”

I’m barely finished speaking when my words are greeted by silence and then my uncle backhands me.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Mayor Markship says, opening the door and walking inside. “I can’t play with her if she’s all banged up.”

The air feels too thin as I stare at him, and I make a decision. I would rather be beaten by my uncle than have sex with the mayor. Chest heaving, I meet my uncle’s steely blue gaze and push.

He barely hit me. I can still hear fine, there’s no ringing, and I’m willing to bet my lip isn’t split either.

“She can still suck your cock just fine,” Uncle Eli chuckles with a knowing smile. I didn’t realize they were such good friends, or maybe my uncle is being an opportunistic shit.

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