Page 37 of Their Cruel Love

“Would you accept that compensation, Marcus? I am not going to give you any further reasons.”

“I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

I want to slap him.Take it!But I understand why this must seem a poisoned chalice. You cannot trust her, not in general…but, I guess you can trust that what she says she will do, she will do? That’s convoluted, but it sums up my relatives in one word. Our family logo could be a Rubik’s cube crossed with a maze.

In the past that meant her almost destroying us.

“I can assure you that my word is my bond. This is a once-only offer. It won’t be put on paper. No signatures, no recordings. Only the people now present have heard.”

I have to give my stepmother credit, she looks undisturbed, relaxed, her hands are loose, and her face is in repose. Nothing about her says she’s worried.

“So, I get restitution but no reason why?”

“Correct.”

“Fuck. I will never be anything except disgusted by what you did, and I know it was you. I demand an apology at the end—when we return.”

She doesn’t reply at first. I watch Marcus’ nearest hand clench into a fist.

“You will have one, at the end. Not because I feel I should. I have one life goal, Marcus—reward the worthy. Prove yourself worthy. Do the job, get the reward.” She looks around the room, including me and Razor in her small speech.

I’m not entirely sure what has happened here. Is she forgiving us for the sins and trespasses she once thought we’d committed?

“The past is gone,” she adds, as if it’s some sort of punctuation mark.

With a last brush of contact as his hand leaves my shoulder, Razor strolls to them. “I’m willing to do this if you are, Marcus.”

Marcus grunts. “I’ll do it with one other stipulation. No interference with what I and Razor do with your stepdaughter.”

Me, he’s talking about me as if I’m not here.

“Agreed.” She nods and neither my stepmother nor Marcus look my way.

I’ve become an object to be traded.

Protesting would seem ridiculous, considering the effort I put into making this happen. Besides, I know that what he plans to do with me might be cruel, it might be painful at times, but it will be…interesting. Inappropriate as it is, I’m recalling them tying me to the bed and fucking me, and spanking me, and much, much more.

I gulp and remain seated, invested in whatever comes next. Objecting? I’ve tossed it on my mental bonfire.

“I’m not happy with this,” he continues. “You’ve roped me in, forced this on me. I detest manipulation, especially coming from you.”

She inclines her head. “I understand, but you should realize that all of us are manipulated by those above us and those around us. It is life.”

“True.” Now he looks to me. “And you, Miss Phoebe? Full CNC, from now on. Only Razor will save you from my excesses.”

I consider that, my eyes narrowing. I don’t believe him. I’ve seen him exercise restraint.

I pretend to need time to consider my answer. “I will agree to it, starting when we arrive at this island, when we find out where it is. Just know that I will not be some simpering rosebud. The investigation into the vanishing women will always take priority.”

“Good. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” His hard, knowing smile skitters tension and a menacing tingle down my body.

“Let the battle commence,” I say as I stand. I bend my knee and raise one booted foot behind me. I lick my forefinger, then run that finger down one of the spikes that sticks out from the side of the boot, and I make a sizzling noise.

Razor laughs, silently, a grin splitting his face.

My stepmother sighs and also rises, uttering a dismissive “Fucking children,” before collecting her mask.

“That is going on my list of your bad deeds.” For a moment, the devil is dancing in Marcus’ eyes, as it was when we played in that bedroom in Spain. The mean but awesome devil—the man who put his foot on my throat while he watched Razor needle my breasts.

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