Page 61 of Ruining Vanessa

I haven’t bothered hanging up any photos. I always wanted to have a wall of family pictures, showing children growing up. Putting anything else up felt like it would be giving up on the dream entirely.

“Here, sit down. Do you want something to drink?” I ask her, guiding her to sit on the large, comfortable couch.

Vanessa sits down, wincing visibly, and I look at her more closely. There are no injuries I can see, but I’m going to have to get those clothes off of her to see just what happened. I know Giulio was pissed, and he didn’t tell me what he was planning to do. He’d been vague, and that never bodes well. “Just some water,” she mumbles, playing with the hem of her sweater.

I go to fill a glass of water for her. I hand it to her before sitting down next to her on the couch.

I wait for her to drink, but she only takes a few sips before lowering the glass and holding it with both hands.

“Are you injured?” I ask, placing one hand on her wrist. She tenses immediately. “I can call a doctor if you need one.”

I really hope it didn’t go that far, but I have this uneasy feeling I’m going to be pissed when I find out what Giulio’s been up to with her for the past few days. He seems cheerful enough, like he’s gotten his fury out of his system, but something usually has to happen for that to be the case. He isn’t the type to just let time pass and move on.

“I don’t need a doctor,” she says. But she offers nothing else, nothing that makes me feel better about the whole situation.

“For what it’s worth…” I start, but I’m at a loss for what to say after that. I can’t tell her that I’m sorry for what happened. I regret Stef being sold only because it hurts Vanessa. I shouldn’t care at all—she’s meant to bring beautiful children into the world, nothing else—but my heart hurts looking at her now.

“I know who bought Stef,” I say, a little lamely. “I think he’ll be better for Stef than the club was.”

Vanessa stares at me, and something flickers in her eyes. “You think selling her like a cow is better for her? At least at the club, we could all pretend she had a chance of getting out one day. Now what happens when this guy gets tired of her? Someone worse gets her. And worse. And worse. That’s not going to help, Damien,” she says, her voice harsh.

I’m relieved she’s able to argue with me, though. I like when she’s being submissive and cooperative, but lately, I’ve found that I want to hear her opinions, too.

“But she won’t have to put up with Giulio’s whims.” I push some of her long hair behind her ear. “And she’ll only need to worry about one man, who probably doesn’t care if she’s pretending to enjoy it or not.” I lean forward to kiss Vanessa’s forehead. “But I’ll keep an ear out. To see how she’s being treated.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles unenthusiastically. She doesn’t pull away, but she flinches when my lips brush her forehead.

I don’t know what Giulio expects me to do with Vanessa right now. She’s so soft and almost pliant in my arms, but my gut roils at the thought of fucking her when she’s like this, when she’s been so beaten down. It’s… different, somehow, from all the other times.

I let my hand rest on her stomach and rub absently. I want to believe there’s a life growing inside her now, but my hopes are shattered after what she’d done. It’ll take even longer to finally see her swelling up with Giulio’s child.

She flinches when my hand lingers on one spot. I take a closer look at her, concern suddenly spiking. Giulio was in a very good mood earlier, which is such a sharp contrast from how he was raging the past few days that I know he must have done something drastic. More drastic than selling Stef.

Without asking for permission, I pull the hem of her sweater and shirt up.

Vanessa grabs for the hem, trying to pull it back down, but it’s easy enough to pry her fingers off. She lets out a little sob as my eyes focus on the small bandages plastered across her skin.

“What did they do?” I ask, rubbing the skin beneath one of the bandages.

Vanessa averts her gaze. “Cut me.”

Anger slams into me. “Are there more?” I demand, pulling the sweater off her entirely. “Show me.”

She looks as terrified of me as if I was the one pulling the knife on her, and that’s almost as agitating as the sight of the cuts. She takes her shirt off, and I see a few more bandages beneath her small breasts.

I know I shouldn’t, but I peel away one of the bandages to get a closer look.

It’s a thin cut, not enough to scar, but right now it’s a stark red against her pale skin.

That was Slayer. That had to have been Slayer, because Giulio wouldn’t have bothered with small cuts. Giulio wouldn’t have been able to hold back.

This won’t be all. I’d seen the way she walked earlier, sore and wincing.

I take her wrist and lift her hand to kiss it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to see you hurt.”

She shrugs a little and hesitates, like she wants to tell me something but doesn’t have the courage to do it. “I’m okay,” she says, her voice nearly inaudible. “None of them are bad.”

But she’s lying, and I can tell by the way her voice hitches on the words. My voice hardens. “Show me,” I demand again.

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