Page 4 of The Devil's Chaos

If I had a nickel for every time Winston Grey called me sexy on the way to the VIP room, I’d be one rich bitch.

“Do whatever he asks, Haven. Do you understand what I am saying?” my father had whispered as a nonchalant warning in my ear.

I’d nodded and then turned back to Winston, plastered a fake smile on my face, and told him I would love to spend some alone time with him in the Lotus room.

A VIP private room reserved for only the most special, naughty boys.

He grinned like the Cheshire cat when I pushed him down onto the hot pink leather couch and took a few steps back to let him watch me. He raised his hands, and I playfully swatted them away, pretending to be embarrassed by his advances.

“Come on, be a good girl and give me some of that sweet ass,” he purred, reaching for me.

Sweet ass? Give me a fucking break.

“Patience, Mr. Grey,” I replied coolly, trying to maintain my composure.

His face fell into a pout as he begged for more of my attention. “Your father said you are all mine to enjoy. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

It’s not that Winston Grey wasn’t attractive or anything. To the contrary. For his age, he wasn’t half-bad looking. But it felt like I was sacrificing more for this deal than my father was. Though, in the end, it didn’t matter what I wanted to do.

Although I had everything I could want in the form of material belongings, my soul had been tainted years ago, my body used for both pleasure and personal gain, all mostly for my brother. My dad turned a blind eye to most things my brother did behind his back and under the table. The only things that mattered to him were power and money; if anything threatened him having either, he would scorch the earth on whoever compromised his authority. So, when my brother would sneak into my room when I was fifteen, my father looked the other way. When my brother convinced my father to let himmanageme, my father allowed it. As long as what I did or didn’t do didn’t tarnish his reputation or affect his bottom dollar, I was at the mercy of my brother and his sick and twisted fantasies. Most of them involved performing sexual favors for him. But sometimes, he would get violent, threatening to kill me for not giving him attention when he thought I should. After my mother’s death, I fought for years against my family. I thought they’d eventually get tired of me and let me leave, or I would meet the same fate as my mother, and maybe then I’d find peace.

That never happened.

I was my brother’s favorite plaything, and he made it clear he would never let me go when I was only seventeen years old.

I learned that very painful lesson when I tried to run. I left school early, took a taxi to the closest bus station, and purchased a ticket for Kansas City, Missouri. Once the bus crossed state lines, I really believed I was free.

God, I was so naïve then.

The bus pulled into the station just as the sun rose, and I took it as a good sign. We had driven all night and hadn’t run into a single problem. Not even when we stopped for gas and snacks. I was one of the last people off the bus, and I looked around, taking in the green cornfields around the bus stop. The air was slightly chilly, so I zipped my jacket and headed toward the bathroom before deciding my next move. I washed my face and pulled my hair back into a ponytail before walking out. I hadn’t made it two feet outside the restroom when I saw Alex leaning against the side of his car. He waved at me, a look of pure amusement on his face. I turned to run and ran right into Bruno and Rocco.

I never stood a chance.

It turned out my brother and his goons had been following me from the moment I stepped foot on that bus in New York City. The school had alerted my father that I had left early, and he sent my brother after me. He rewarded my brother for finding me by allowing him to choose my punishment. My brother decided to lock me in the dark wine cellar for sixteen days. He told me I had earned a day in the cellar for each hour it took the bus to drive from New York to Kansas City. I lost track of how many hours I had spent in the dark. The only human interaction was when he would bring down scraps for me to eat—just enough to stay alive.

It’s strange what the dark can do to the human mind.

I spent hours convincing myself that every shadow wasn’t a monster and every sound wasn’t a threat. Each creak and groan of the cellar tormented me more than the last. On day sixteen, my brother decided that I had been punished enough and had become a shell of the person I had been before. Any humanity that I’d clung to was gone. I could barely stand on my own two feet, let alone think rationally, and like the shark that he was, hesmelled the blood in the water, and that day, I promised him I would never run again.

And I hadn’t.

Five years had passed since that day, but the familiar feeling of dread and helplessness washed over me whenever I contemplated running. So, I played my part until I found the fail-proof opportunity to leave for good.

I let Winston Grey pull me down onto his lap, feeling his boner pressing against my ass. He groped me while he whispered lewd comments in my ear.

“You smell delicious,” he murmured, his hands gripping my ass tightly. “I can’t wait to have you.”

But I didn’t want him. I didn’t want any of this.

“Why don’t you enjoy some refreshments?” I pulled out a bag of pills from the baggie I had stored in between my breasts, placed them on the table in front of him, and unscrewed the top of the vodka bottle that was sitting on ice. He eyed them eagerly, licked his lips, and grabbed the bottle, taking several large gulps before grabbing a handful of pills and drinking them down too.

Good boy.

In my world, drugs were a currency that could sway even the most powerful and elite. Add a little pussy and some alcohol, and you could rule the world. So I played my good-girl routine, following the same steps as always, and hoped that Winston Grey would be too high when I returned to make me follow through with fucking him. I might have to endure some heavy petting and force some fake enthusiasm. Still, eventually, he’d pass out with a satisfied grin, thinking he had scored the young, hot stripper—who also happened to be his new business partner’s daughter.

“Let me just freshen up, and I’ll be right back to really get this party started,” I promised with a saccharine smile.

“Sounds good, baby,” he purred, stroking his hardness through his pants.

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