Page 23 of Alliance

His eyes zone in on mine, his brows knitting together with a look of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Lily,” I say, my voice cracking as her name leaves my lips. “My sister. When you saw her, you saidthat’s a shame.Why?”

He drops his grip on me, letting my arms go limp at my sides. “You’ve been drinking,” he says. “Are you even of age?”

“Apparently I’m old enough to get married, so why not drink whiskey while I’m at it?”

He scoffs, unimpressed with my answer. “You need to sober up.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” I can tell I’m drunk, or at least very tipsy, because sober Lana would never be this bold.

Two dark eyes find me again, their stare intense. He makes me feel small as he looks down at me. “I did care,” he says. “Your sister fucked up my plans and I had to wait three years for you. So, I do care, Lana dear, just not for the reasons you want me to.”

The words feel like a knife to my chest. How could someone be so cruel?

“What did you say to her?”

“Lana, I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you. Go upstairs and fix yourself, understand?” He gives me a shove back toward the stairs, but my feet are unstable, and I trip over myself. I can feel myself falling, but I’m useless. My hands extend, but my brain is too dizzy to find something to latch on to. My head hits the corner of the hallway table and my body bounces back before hitting the tiled floor of the hallway.

The flooring is cold against my skin. My dress flies up when I fall, and my body lays limp on the floor. I can feel something warm and wet start to run down my forehead. Groggily, I bring my hand to my face, pulling it away to see the sticky red blood coating my fingertips.

“Jesus Christ,” I hear Davis mutter, and then a door swings open.

“Tell me,” I mutter, my voice comes out soft and broken sounding. “Tell me.”

“What happened?” It’s my father’s voice that booms through the hallway, and his hands that find me first.

“She’s drunk, Damien,” Davis says, annoyance tinging his words.

“Lana?” My dad brings a hand to my face, smoothing back my hair and meeting my eyes. For a moment, I’m convinced he cares. I can pretend that he’s taking care of me, comforting me, shielding me from the abuse. But even drunk, I know that’s not what’s happening. I’m a commodity. An object for him to trade.

And I’m worthless if I’m broken.

I hear my mother scream, dropping a plate when she comes out of the kitchen. “What happened?” she asks, that seems to be the burning question.

If I tell them Davis pushed me, will they kick him out?

“Your daughter is a drunk.” Davis hovers over me.

“Davis,” my father drawls. “I can take care of this.”

“You better,” he growls down at my father. “She can’t act like this anymore.”

“Like what?” I ask. My head is throbbing, and I have no desire to get up from the icy floor. I close my eyes, dragging a long breath in through my lips.

Davis leans down, bending at the waist so he can bring his face closer to mine. “Like a bratty little child,” he says. “Time to grow up, Lana,”

He rises and steps over me, nearly crushing my hair with his shiny loafer.

“Fuck you,” I yell, this time louder, bolder. He freezes, then spins to look at me again.

“Yeah?”

I push myself up so I’m sitting, but he’s still hovering over me, using his larger body to intimidate me.

“Are you sure you want to play this game, little girl? Do you want to see how miserable I can make you?” Spittle flies from his lips, landing on my face while he taunts me. “Or maybe…” A sinister smile rises on his face. “Maybe I should go pick up your little boyfriend. Do you think he should pay for your mistakes today?”

I haven’t seen Naz since that day, though, he visits my thoughts daily. I can’t get the vision of his inked body out of my head, can’t stop hearing his breathy moans as I kneeled before him.

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