Page 23 of Hunted Vengeance

“We need someone to bring in the boys,” she announces. “She will be perfect. Sweet, soft, and has a good body. Ten-year-old boys won’t be able to resist.”

Bring in the boys.

I blink, unsure of how to respond to this. I don’t know what I would be bringing them in for, but none of it sounds good. I cannot imagine a world where needing to be cute, soft, and having a good body to bring in any teenage boy is for anything good or positive.

“Want to elaborate?” my father asks.

The woman’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Do you not realize who Malcolm Ravet is?” she asks.

My father crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side as he lifts a brow in question. He would never, not in a million years, admit that he doesn’t know someone or something, so instead, he stays silent and waits for her to explain herself further.

She smiles, but it sends a chill down my spine. It’s an evil smile. Her expression shows just who and what she is. I suck in a breath, holding it for a moment before I let it out slowly. There is no way in hell I can hold back my reaction to the pure evil that lurks behind this woman’s eyes.

“You are marrying your daughter off to this man, and you don’t know who he is,” she states.

My father’s expression and stance don’t change. Clearly, he doesn’t give a fuck what her opinion on the matter is. Instead, he’s ready to hear the rest of her explanation. I bite the inside of my cheek.

“He offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse,” my father states

“And you don’t mind that he is someone who is part of the underbelly of society?” she asks.

My father releases his arms, lifting his hands as he exaggeratedly looks around the room. “You see anyone here who isn’t part of the underbelly of society?”

She jerks her chin, then takes a step toward him. I watch as she lifts her hand and places her palm against his chest. She leans forward, her lips touching the side of his face, and whispers against his ear.

His brows lift, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stays quiet. She takes a step backward, and his eyes flick to meet mine. “Go to your room, Colette,” he demands.

I can tell that whatever it is he’s just been told is definitely something he doesn’t want me to know. Although it doesn’t have anything to do with protecting me. In fact, I have a feeling he doesn’t have an issue with it at all.

When it comes to me, the only thing that my father gives a shit about is how I can benefit him. So if whatever she says uses me to aid him, then that’s good enough. He doesn’t have much of a moral code, so if what she’s suggesting is immoral, he doesn’t give a shit.

I also don’t hang around his office long enough to find out what they’re discussing. I don’t care. It sounds bad, because I probably should care, but I can’t. Selfishly, I’m worried about what is going to happen after I become the marital property of Malcolm.

If he’s involved with these people, then I have a feeling it’s going to be a really rough road. That I’m going to hate every part of my life even more than I do now. As much as I want just to accept my life, I can’t help but think of what I had and what I could have had. It makes me feel miserably sad.

Turning away from my father, I walk toward the door and open it just enough to slip out. Closing it behind me, I inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly in an attempt to gather myself.

“You good?” Marcello asks.

I don’t know why he’s being kind to me, but then, as I lift my gaze to meet his, I see the expression on his face, and I realize he’s not being nice. Instead, he feels pity. My God, he pities me. Giving him a tight smile, I dip my chin in a single nod before I head straight for my bedroom.

I forgo going to get my yogurt. Just like I suspected, I don’t give a shit about it anymore. Instead, I try my hardest not to run, slam my door, and lock it behind me, but before I can do that, I feel Marcello’s fingers curl around the back of my elbow.

Turning my head over my shoulder, I look up at him, my feet stopping in my tracks. He dips his chin slightly, and I realize we’re in an alcove of the hallway, in a dark little corner. He leans forward to whisper against my ear.

“Something bad is going to happen. You need to run,” he rasps.

I would love to do just that, but the simple fact is that I can’t. There is nowhere I can go, and even if there is, there is no way I can get out of this house undetected. I open my mouth to say just that but decide against it. Instead, I ask him why.

“What do you know?” I ask. “Because all I know is that it’s something with teenage boys, and I’ve been sold to the highest bidder for sex on my wedding night.”

His brows lift, and his eyes slide down to his feet before he flicks his gaze back up to meet mine. We stare at one another for what feels like a long moment. Then he releases his grasp on my elbow.

“Be careful, Colette.”

I don’t know when he turned from a guy who wanted toget into my golden cuntto this one who is warning me to be careful, but I trust him about as much as I trust my father, which is not at all.

“I am,” I lie.

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