Page 7 of Líadan's Code

Pulling my arm through his, Daddy tugs me into motion. “Women exist to get married, have children, and do exactly what their husbands want them to do,” he says conversationally. Bruin rolls his eyes and walks off, seemingly happy that I’m following my father through the house.

“You, my daughter, are mine to do whatever I want with.”

“What are you doing, Daddy?” I force myself to ask.

“You’re too comfortable and soft,” he scoffs. “If you’re going to take over all of this one day, you have to be a living, breathing bringer of death to our enemies. I’m afraid I’ve been too lenient with you, but it’s okay, I have a plan to fix that.”

“You do?” I whisper. Daddy is almost dragging me by this point, forcing my feet to continue moving as he clamps my arm to his side. My heels trip me as I try to slow his walking, though it’s a lost cause.

There’s an odd excitement buzzing through him, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this. He’s in fact been anything but lenient, so I don’t understand his reasoning for thinking this right now.

“Yes,” he growls. “Brendan was officially inducted into the family at sixteen, and he became my executioner. He pulls his weight well for us, while you’ve done nothing but make my life difficult. I have to hide you away from prying eyes, because you’re weak. You will become my secret weapon, darling. There’s still time to fix this.”

The way he says that makes my shoulders hunch up toward my ears. He rarely uses sweet words with me, and when he does, it’s because something really bad is about to happen. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My head whips around to see who is around to force me to the ballroom, and my eyes take in the bored guards who are standing guard at the mansion. This house is a fortress because Daddy’s enemies are just as ruthless as he is. No one is able to go in or out without permission except Brendan, and that’s only because he knows where the safest entry and exit points are.

No matter how many extra cameras Daddy installs, there are always dead zones.

“Daddy…” I say the words almost a plea.

There’s a gleam of self importance and zeal in his eyes as he continues to drag me across the house. I can hear people talking in the big room he uses for parties. It is rare that I’m ever invited, and I am quite alright with that.

I’ve heard things over the years about the sex trafficking trade Daddy runs with the family. I hate that this house, my clothes, and everything around me has been bought from the suffering of others.

At twelve, I learned a bit about what “inventory” the O’Briens sold, and a piece of my soul died that day. Every day, I feel as if I’m withering away. I wish I could just run away, but that’s not in the cards for me.

“…Líadan, it’s time you took the place in the family I always dreamed you would,” Daddy says, and my brows draw down. Shit, I missed something important when I zoned out. “Today, you’re seventeen, and a portion of the family wants to formally meet you, since I’ve kept you away from the public eye.

“So, I sold lots to the party as a small celebration for your birthday. Anything that happens tonight will never be spoken about upon pain of death. The highest bidder has the pleasure of having your virginity. They can also do whatever they want to you, as long as you’re alive by the end of it.

“I think it’s the perfect way to celebrate. Now, Cormac has been working the entire bidding process while I’ve been gone. Let’s see who will go first, shall we?”

It’s as if my brain logs back on as I stare dumbly at him. His pupils are enlarged with excitement, a sickness emanating from his body as he goes on and on about this as if it’s a dream come true for me. I would never want any of this. It’s absolute insanity.

“You’re selling your own daughter?” I ask.

Struggling to move away, my father laughs and pulls me closer until he can wrap his hands around my waist and toss me over his shoulder.

“Of course,” he booms. “I played with the idea of just marrying you off, but then I’d lose you to whatever asshole husband you end up with, despite how it may help me in an alliance. This way, you’ll rise from the ashes of whatever delusions you have that you’re better than us. Always reading or drawing, you’re fooking boring and useless. You need to fully understand the masterpiece of the life I’m building! You need a taste of what we’re capable of. You will never be safe or happy. Ever.”

My father really is off his rocker.

I begin hitting Daddy as I hang over his back and kick my legs, hoping that he’ll let me go. I even decide to throw caution to the wind and pull out my hairpins to shove them into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to feel it as he continues his monologue about how he’s going to rebuild me into something better than the sum of my parts.

Just as I pull out a pin from my hair to kill myself by slitting my throat to keep this all from happening, he steps into the room full of people.

“Sorry for the delay,” he says loudly as he strides in without a care in the world. I can smell the blood from the cuts along his skin as he moves, but he still doesn’t show any discomfort. The pins are miniature knives, sharp as fuck, and even I had to make sure not to stab myself when I weaved them into my hair.

Daddy throws me into the air as I lift my head to look out at the room, though my hair keeps getting in the way. Screaming, I hit the ground hard, losing my weapon as my hair flops into my face as I roll across the floor.

All chatter ceases as I glance up, breathing heavily, feeling like a caged animal on display. There are men and women in beautiful formal outfits staring back at me with hungry expressions. They look as if they’re staring at a tasty morsel, and I’ve never experienced the amount of terror and disgust I feel right now ever before.

They’re the beasts and monsters I heard my father speak about as I was hiding under the table when I was twelve. I don’t know how he’s able to keep them all appeased and leashed.

“It’s about time you two arrived,” a woman in a long black dress says with a smirk. There’s a naked man on a leash on his knees by her side, his eyes glazed over as he presses his head against her leg.

His cock is thick against his stomach, his arms bound against his back as he waits for her next instruction. She absently plays with her slave’s hair as she watches me closely.

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