Page 45 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

I freeze. Gleb sold me to a man who wants to gang-rape me. The harsh reality of that hits me and makes me stumble. I’ve never felt more powerless in my entire life.

Akim motions for the guard to bring me inside the house. The floor is marble, making it hard to hide the sound of footsteps. The space is so large, that everything echoes inside.

“Bring her to my bedroom,” Akim instructs.

I try fighting the guard, but he’s too strong. He lifts me and carries me upstairs, where he throws me onto a large bed in an even larger room. Then he walks away, and Akim takes his place.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He throws himself on top of me. The smell of his horrible breath almost knocks me right out. His hands are slimy and grimy and clammy all at the same time.

This is not how I thought I’d lose my virginity. I thought a man worthy of me would take it when I gave it willingly.

This is not how any of this was supposed to go.

Akim laughs as I struggle to get away from him. He grabs my hips and flips me onto my stomach. He rips my dress, shoving it above my waist, and tears my underwear off. His gross hands touch my ass, and I startle.

The only other person who’s ever touched me there was Aleksander, and he was spanking me. There had been no lust to it. Just a punishment for running away.

This is another sort of punishment. It’s Gleb punishing me for having an opinion. For having standards. For not bowing down to the first man who gave me attention.

I can’t let Akim do this to me. I refuse to let it. I’m a dancer, for fuck’s sake. I have strength in my body. I can do this.

My eyes catch a paperweight on his side table. I just need to reach it.

Using all the strength I have in my legs from years of dancing, I kick back and land a blow to his knee. Akim grunts and sits up slightly. I crawl forward, my fingers straining for the paperweight, but Akim draws me back closer to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls.

“You are not worthy to put your hands on me,” I snap back. “You are a sick man who had to buy a woman to get laid. What kind of man are you?”

He growls again and flips me onto my back before slapping me across the face. It stings, but it gives me the energy I need to fight. “I own you.”

“No man will ever own me.” In this new position, I can lift my feet and kick him in the chest. Akim stumbles off me.

I grab the paperweight as he flops his body back on top of me.

“You are mine,” he says.

“No. You’re dead.” I slam the paperweight against his head, and he goes still, letting out a strained groan. Blood begins to seep from the side of his head.

And then he falls off me, onto the bed, and twitches. I lift the paperweight high. His eyes meet mine, begging me not to kill him.

I’ve never killed anyone before.

But I don’t feel any guilt.

I bring the paperweight down onto his head, and his entire face bursts as I hit him again and again. He’s long dead, but I still keep hitting him. Blood splatters my face and hands and dress.

It’s a good thing I’m wearing red.

I let out a scream, then drop the paperweight. It thuds on the ground. I stare at Akim's caved-in face and scramble away. I pull my underwear back up and push my dress back down.

My hands are soaked in his blood.

He was a cocky bastard who thought I would just lay down and accept my fate. I’m not that kind of woman.

I stumble out of the bedroom and into an empty hallway. Dazed, I walk downstairs and head for the door.

That is, until I hear a woman scream. I turn to look and see a young woman dressed in a cleaning uniform staring right at me. Screaming.

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