Page 76 of Do It For Me
He sold me.
Dante bought me.
Stefan bought me.
I was never more than a thing to them. A toy. Something to use, to make them feel good.
I lurch forward, my knees about to give out. My trembling hands clutch at the collar of his jacket, clinging to it like a lifeline.
“I—Please, don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything. Let me go, I—”
He places a hand over mine. “I’m sorry,püppchen. There’s nothing I can do. I warned you.”
This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.
“What was the deal?” I whisper.
He exhales. “At first, he wanted a quick fuck. I agreed.” I flinch, but he continues as if my reaction doesn’t matter. “But then he met you and got greedy. A few weeks later, he got bored and didn’t want to keep you. So, he said that if he married you, he could make even more money off your body. I couldn’t let my little girl go through hell again, so I made a new deal. If I got you a husband, he wouldn’t have to keep you. But he could still fuck you, as long as he paid. And he agreed.”
“That doesn’t make—”
“You’re lucky Stefan was interested,” he cuts me off. “He saved you from being shared again.Isaved you,püppchen.”
I want to die.
“Dante loved me,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “He loves me.”
“If he loves you, why isn’t he here fighting for you?” he snaps. “Why did he send me those messages? Why would he give me money to use your cunt?”
“Daddy—”
“He just wanted to use you,püppchen. And you didn’t listen. You were so desperate for a little love that you’d have accepted anything.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“He doesn’t want to. And I don’t want a scene. So, you will go back to your husband, and you will put a pretty smile on your face. Go on.”
“I love him.”
He brushes a tear from my cheek with the same hand that destroyed me at night. His touch feels like poison.
This is horrible. I don’t want him near me.
I want Dante. I want him.
Please.
I don’t want to believe him, but he’s right. Why isn’t he fighting for me now? Why did he smile? Why did he cheer?
I trusted him. I opened my heart for him.
“You weren’t supposed to. He never loved you,” my father laughs. “Why do you think he knew you before? Because he was waiting for the right time.”
That single sentence is the stab I needed to die.
He knew Dante had met me before.
My chest tightens as I meet my father’s gaze. “If you’re sorry, if you care even a little for me, please… give me something to get through the night.”
