Page 51 of Cryptic Curse
“Come into the parlor, Diego,” my father says.
Señor Vega follows us into the lush parlor, his polished shoes silent against the thick Persian rug that stretches wall to wall.The air smells faintly of vanilla and coffee.Velvet drapes in deep emerald spill down from ceiling-high windows.Crystal decanters filled with liquor sit on a walnut sideboard.No doubt Señor Vega has already filled his glass from one of them.
Every surface shines, every detail curated for opulence.But beneath the gleam, something feels off.Like the room is holding its breath.Like it’s witnessed too much and said too little.
Like it’s about to witness something more.
Something vile.
I swallow.
“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” my father says.
“Papa…”
But he leaves the parlor, closing the door behind him.
I swallow again.
“Señor…” I begin.
But he grabs me.
I close my eyes, expecting him to kiss me.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he slides the dress from my shoulders and exposes my bare breasts.
My heart hammers against my chest, but I force myself to remain calm.
“Señor Vega,” I say.“I’d appreciate if we can keep things respectful.”
He laughs—a cruel, harsh sound.“Respectful?Is that what your father told you to say?”He reaches out again, but I step back, maintaining the space between us.
“I’m not here for your entertainment,” I tell him, pulling my dress back up.
“On the contrary,” Vega says.“You are here forexactlythat.”
Then harsh hands on my breasts, strong fingers twisting my nipples until I cry out in pain.
I’m pushed against the back of a chair, my dress up against my waist.
My underwear in shreds on the plush carpeting.
And then Señor Vega inside me.
Stretching me, hurting me.Pumping himself into me violently.
“Stop it!”I scream.
But Vega doesn’t stop.He only laughs, his breath reeking of alcohol and cigars.
Pain sears through me as he continues his cruel assault.My vision blurs from the tears stinging my eyes, but I bite my lip to keep from crying out again.Somehow, I know giving him that satisfaction would be worse than the pain.
When it’s over, Vega pulls his trousers back up, leaving me trembling on the carpeted floor.He looks down at me with a triumphant glint in his eye before swaggering out of the room.
As soon as he’s gone, I pull myself up from the floor, my limbs shaking.The pain is still raw, but it’s subsided to a dull throb that pulses in time with my heartbeat.
