​Chapter Three

​~ MIRA ~

​'Freya. No, she couldn't be the one.' I tried to swallow the bile rising in my throat. My father hated her. She loathed him. I was probably just imagining things, or my brain was still clouded by the lingering haze of last night's alcohol.

I tried to convince myself I had misheard as my father's hand fisted in my hair, dragging me toward my room while he let out a low groan of fury.

​"How long were you standing there!" he roared and shoved me hard, sending me sprawling across the bed, and in one fluid, terrifying motion, he unbuckled his belt.

​"Daddy, please! I just walked in when you saw me!" I lied, my voice trembling. I prayed the lie would be enough to shield me from the coming storm.

​"You cheap whore!" He growled, the words sharp as glass. Then, the belt landed a heavy, stinging lash against my skin.

​I screamed, begging for mercy, but he was a man possessed by cold rage. He must achieve what he wants when he's angry.

He didn't stop until his arm grew tired and then he backed out, locked the door, and left me in the dark.

​Hours later, a heavy thud against the wood startled me. Before I could speak, the door swung open. My father walked in silently, the aggression from earlier replaced by a terrifying, calm look. He sat on the edge of my bed.

​"You have to stop eavesdropping on conversations that don't concern you, Mira," he said softly. "If you don't want to be punished again."

​I remained silent, staring down at my bruised fingers as they twiddled nervously in my lap.

​"Mia is sick. You know that," he continued, his voice dropping to a manipulative simmer. "The hospital is demanding we clear the bills before they perform the surgery. We don't have the money. We need to raise it together to save her."

​'We.' That word hit me like a physical blow.

​He was doing it again. Another scheme to derail my life. Three years ago, the moment I finished high school, he had packed me off to work for a family to 'save for my education' . Two days in, I was framed for a theft I didn't commit and forced into three years of indentured labour to pay it off. While I was slaving away, my father bought a new house and took Mia on vacations.

​I had only been home for twenty-four hours. My 'freedom' had lasted exactly one day before he told me there was no money for my college tuition.

​"We?" I asked, finally lifting my teary eyes to meet his. "What do you mean, we?"

​I wanted to be a surgeon. I wanted to be a woman of greatness, a career professional who owned her own life. But looking at my father, I felt that dream slipping through my fingers like sand.

​"You're moving in with my best friend tonight," he said, standing up with an air of finality. "You'll work as his secretary. Your five-year salary will cover everything Mia needs."

​The room seemed to shrink. I sprang to my feet, anger finally overriding my fear. My throat tightened so hard it hurt to breathe.

​"No! I want to go to school! It is your job to save your daughter, not mine!" I screamed, my hands clenching so tight my nails drew blood from my palms.

​"You're leaving now. Get your bag," he said, his voice cold and flat. He walked out without looking back.

​I slammed my fist against the locked door, a silent growl tearing through my chest. I couldn't do this again. I had to run. I scrambled for my handbag and found my phone. The first person who came to mind, the only person I trusted was Freya.

​She answered on the first ring.

​"Freya, I need your help. My father is forcing me into another contract for Mia's bills. I need to get out of here. Please."

​I waited for her to tell me it would be okay, to give me a plan. I always listened to Freya, even when my gut told me not to.

​"Your sister's life is on the line and you want to run away?" Freya's voice wasn't comforting. It was irritating. "What are you even thinking, Mira?"

​The flame of my anger flickered and died, replaced by a cold confusion. "I want a life, Freya. Five years? I'm twenty one already. I can't waste my entire youth achieving nothing. I already gave up three years for a crime I didn't commit, and now..."

​"We are talking about Mia's life!" she yelled, cutting me off. "Why are you being so selfish? Would you really just watch her die?"

​"Mia doesn't even like me!" I cried, the tears finally breaking through. "She treats me like trash."

​"Mia says you don't treat her right either," Freya snapped. "Now is the time to prove her wrong. Trust me, once she makes it out of surgery, she'll never treat you badly again."

​Click... The line went dead. My head spun. Mia says I don't treat her right? How would Freya know that? They had never met; they supposedly hated each other.

I tried to shake the suspicion, telling myself I must have vented to Freya about it and forgotten.

​I scrolled through my contacts for Nora. Freya's words stung, but I needed a second opinion. I needed one person to tell me I wasn't crazy for wanting a life of my own.

​The phone rang once. Twice. On the third ring, Nora picked up, but before I could utter a word, a hand snatched the phone from my grip.

​I spun around. My father stood there, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with a dark, manic energy.

​"Get your things. They're waiting outside."

​'They?'

​I moved like a ghost, hurriedly folding my few belongings into a box while my father watched me like a hawk. 'I have to save Mia, I whispered to myself', trying to find a reason to survive this. I'll show her I love her.

​Outside, a sleek, black luxury car sat idling at the curb. It looked like danger crouching in the street. As I approached, the door swung open. The interior was shrouded in darkness. I couldn't see the driver's face, only the silhouette of a man who remained as silent as a tomb.

​We drove in total silence until we pulled into a massive, gated compound.

​"We're here, Miss Mira," the driver said, finally speaking as he stepped out to open my door.

​I stepped onto the gravel, my breath catching. The mansion screamed wealth, the kind of wealth that bought silence and power. A servant appeared out of the gloom to take my bag.

​"My name is Vick," he said. "Call me if you need anything."

​He led me into a large living room and left. A moment later, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It felt as if the air itself grew heavier, bowing to an invisible pressure. A man stepped into the living room.

​He was huge , tall and built like a heavyweight boxer. His face was a map of jagged scars, silver lines that spoke of a violent past. He looked like a nightmare dressed in a perfectly cut suit.

​"You're welcome, Miss Mira Femriss," his baritone voice vibrated in my chest. "I imagine you know who I am, even if we haven't been properly introduced."

​"I don't know you," I whispered, trying to stand my ground, but my legs instinctively shuffled backwards.

​"My name is Blade Silas. Your boss," he said. A smile flickered across his lips, a brief, chilling movement that held no warmth. Suddenly, his eyes flashed deadly gold.

​I blinked, certain it was a trick of the light, but I knew it was his eyes. Before I could look again, he turned and left.

​I took another step back, trembling, and slammed into something solid. I shrieked and spun around. A man stood directly behind me, masked his presence just as intimidating as Blade's. The only thing I could see were his eyes, the same haunting bronze-gold as the Draven's.

A surge of suspicion washed over me.

​"Nice to have you here, Mira," the masked man said, but his voice was different from Draven's, smoother, but no less dangerous. He didn't wait for a reply before walking away.

​"Let me show you to your room, Miss Mira," a third voice spoke.

​I jumped, nearly losing my footing, but the servant caught my arm with startling speed before letting go just as quickly.

​"No," I gasped, feeling the walls of the mansion closing in on me. The air here felt strange, as if it were sucking the very little peace left in my soul. "Show me the garden. Anywhere but inside."

​"As you wish."

​He led me out to a sprawling, moonlit garden. I walked deep into the greenery, desperate for the scent of fresh air to clear the terror from my lungs. I was halfway down a stone path when my heart stopped.

Chapter Four

A figure clothed in black, tall and lean, with long black hair tied into a ponytail, appeared before me. I took a step back, ready to run, but he turned sharply, and his voice froze me in place.

"Mira, you're here already. I didn't expect it to be this soon," he said. I turned slowly to face him.

"My name is Vlad. Blade's youngest son," he added, clearing his throat as he approached with a small, confident smile.

Everyone here seemed to know my name already, and it felt strange. It made me feel like prey that had been tracked long before it entered their world.

He stopped just a few feet away, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. And before I could flinch, his left hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. His nose grazed the sensitive skin of my neck, inhaling deeply.

"Mira..." he groaned.

​"Stop it! How dare you!" I shoved him, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was furious, yet a part of me reacted shamelessly at his touch.

The garden was dark, but a single bulb outside the mansion cast light on his face. His eyes were a piercing blue, the kind that seemed to hold a strange, dangerous power. These people, starting from Draven, were unlike any human I had ever met.

"Please, Mira..." he whispered, his voice a low plea as he pulled me back into his arms. One hand gripped my hair again, forcing me to feel the vibration of his voice against my skin.

"Your scent...Mira,"

"I said get off me!" I shouted, using every ounce of strength I had to shove him away.

He stumbled back, and I turned immediately, walking as fast as I could toward the mansion.

"Take me to my room," I told a servant mopping the corridor leading to the living room. He didn't answer immediately. I looked down and noticed a pool of blood on the floor, like an animal had been slaughtered there.

"He'll show you the way," the servant replied without looking at me.

I glanced up and saw the masked man from earlier standing silently at the end of the corridor.

"What happened...?" I started to ask, but a cold hand clamped onto my arm before I could get a response.

"To your room," he said. Without another word, he led the way.

He opened a door to the living room and then quickly climbed the stairs, moving so fast that I struggled to keep up. I followed silently until we reached a pink-painted door. He stopped and turned to me.

"This is your room. Everything you need is inside. If you need anything else, ask Vick," he said, his deep voice commanding yet calm.

He turned to leave, but halfway down the hallway, he paused and turned sharply toward me.

"Once it's midnight, do not step out. Keep your door locked."

I opened the door, barely glancing inside, and then shut it again. I needed to clear my head. I needed to silence the anger Vlad stirred inside me, and alcohol feels like the only answer.

I walked into the living room and went straight to the bar, no permission, no request. I didn't care if I got fired after this, my life was already a mess, a wreckage of broken dreams. No education, no medical career, and surely there's no future.

My eyes scanned the rows of wine bottles, and one caught my attention. I sank onto a stool and grabbed it. Without checking the label, I popped it open and pressed the bottle to my lips. Tilting my head back, the sharp cherry-and-spirit flavor filled my mouth.

"Mmm... ahh, tastes great," I whispered, taking another long sip. Before that one even reached my belly, I took another.

"My life is ruined. No school, no doctor, no surgeon... all thanks to you, Dad," I shouted, laughing bitterly despite the sharp ache in my chest.

I lifted the bottle and gulped down the remaining contents. My vision blurred, my throat burned, and I jumped down from the stool and staggered toward the stairs.

I stepped onto the first stair and realized my legs could barely hold me. So I crawled up, using both my hands and knees, until I reached a door I believed was mine. I stopped, opened it, and walked inside.

I made my way to what I thought was a couch, or maybe a bed, I wasn't sure. I only knew I was falling onto something.

I sank into it, and a sharp pain shot through my back. I jolted upright, my eyes widening as I realized I wasn't lying on a couch at all, it was a long table covered with weapons and sharp objects scattered across its surface.

I sank to the floor, and my left finger slid up my dress, thighs trembling and a cold shiver washed through me. My breath turned shallow as my thoughts drifted back to Draven, and I pictured his veiny dick thrusting into my wet slippery pussy.

My right fingers traced my neck down to my chest and cupped my breast, "Yeah! Fuck..." a soft whisper slipped from my mouth, my thumb circling the nipple until it hardened.

Ever since I met Draven, something in me craves to be touched, sucked, and fucked. It had never been like this, not even after I hit puberty.

​Now, just the thought of him gets me wet. I pushed my underwear aside and slid a finger down to my wetness. Without putting it inside, I circled the sensitive flesh around my entrance, moving it to my clit, thumbing it.

​"Fuck... yeah..." My breath quickened, and I moaned into the room, loud and shameless. I slid my finger up and down, from my clit to my wet pink flesh around my pussy hole, slow at first, then faster, while my other hand teased my breast.

​I imagined Draven thrusting deep, stretching my walls for the first time. "Fuck me, Draven... yeah... Draven, fuck..." His name escaped my mouth before I could catch it.

​Accidentally, one of my fingers slipped inside me. A sharp, brief sting flared, but it was suddenly replaced by a rush of pleasure. I began to slide my finger in and out, finding a rhythm that made my hips lift to meet every stroke.

A warm wet fluid coat my hand and dripped to the floor, my body shuddered and a shock raced through me.

​"My cock can do something better than that," a voice said. My eyes snapped open, and I saw Vlad standing in front of me, holding his hard, slim, veiny length in his hand.

​"What the hell..." I tried to stand up, shame washing over me, but he held me back.

​"Please, Mira. I promise I will be gentle..."

​The thought of Draven flashed through my head again. I tried to fight the urge to stay faithful, but I couldn't. Not in this state.

​"Go on your knees. Take me, Mira... I am yours," he purred, bringing his cock close to my face.

​I obeyed like a child and dropped to my knees and gulped down the lumps of pleasure that settled in my throat before reaching out to touch him, suddenly confused about what to do next.

​I looked up at him, and he had that boyish, charming look on his face as he smiled down at me.

​"You don't know what to do? Rub it, baby," he murmured. His voice sent a tingling shock straight to my already aching core.

​My small hand wrapped around his nine-inch length, and before I knew it, I was gliding my palm up and down. It felt so fucking wrong, yet so right at the same time.

​I had just met this guy tonight. I was in a relationship, and yet here I was, on my knees, pleasuring my boss's son, ready to spread my legs and let him take me.

​"Fuck, Mira..." His soft groan pulled me out of my head. I ran my hand over him, loving the feeling of his hard, veiny cock against my palm.

​"Yes, Mira... you naively know how to do it right. I love it. Now, wrap your mouth around my dick. Take it all," he moaned, gathering my hair back into a makeshift ponytail to clear my face.

​Without even thinking, I stuck my tongue out and licked the precum on the cap of his cock. It tasted so nice and disgusting all at once.

​"Fuck..." His moan resonated through the room. I continued to swirl my tongue around his cap, licking him and swallowing the taste of him. It felt so good to hear him moan, even though I knew I was still just learning.

Chapter Five

​I opened my mouth and tried to take his length in, but he was too long. I could barely manage three or four inches. Just as I tried to pull back, his grip tightened on my hair, and before I realized what he was doing, he shoved his cock into my mouth in one rough thrust.

​This was the man who had promised to be gentle.

​"Yes!" he grunted, switching his right hand on my hair to his left, while his right hand came to rest on his waist.

​My eyes widened and tears welled up, but the feeling of him hitting the back of my throat made my pussy quiver and throb. I felt an intense need to be fucked by him mercilessly.

​"Oh Mira, you're fucking sweet!" He let out a groan of pleasure, his grip on my hair tightening with every thrust.

​He paused, looking down at me with a smile before continuing. His cock throbbed in my mouth, and his own mouth hung open, an indication of just how much pleasure he was getting from fucking my face.

Both of his hands now gripped my hair, and my hands fell to his hips as he sped up the pace.

​"Yes! Urrgh... Fuck! You're so sweet, Mira!" His ecstatic grunts filled the air. My wet pussy quivered again, and I moaned on his cock.

​"You're so fucking sweet! I love how you take it! Yeah! Take that dick, Mira! Take it rough! Fuck it, baby!" He bit his lower lip and threw his head back, grunting loudly while I moaned on his veiny cock. My pussy tingled and throbbed.

I felt shivers I'd never felt before. Fuck! I wanted him so badly. I wanted to slide his cock inside my pussy this minute. I wanted to feel what it was like to have him dig my pussy mercilessly.

​"Mira! I'm about to cum! Mira!" His body was slick with sweat now and he looked incredibly handsome and sultry, his mouth open as moans escaped that made my heart leap.

​His pace suddenly quickened, his grip on my hair so tight I thought he might pull it out. The pleasure I felt increased with his, and I tightened my grip on his hips. Vlad was fucking good, fucking hot, and I was sure this wouldn't be the last time I tasted him.

​"Yes!" He grunted, releasing a thick, warm liquid that splattered across my face. He then fell heavily onto the bed behind him.

​My vision cleared, and I suddenly realized I'd walked into the wrong room. This was Vlad's room.

​I sprang to my feet, his cum dripping down my face. The wave of lust disappeared instantly, replaced by a scorching shame. I threw the door open and ran out.

*****

~NORA~

Immediately after the call ended with Mira, and I heard Mr. Femriss's voice in the background telling her to pack her things, I knew he was up to something again. He is determined to ruin Mira's life for a past she knows nothing about, and I am going to make sure he doesn't succeed.

Even though Mira doesn't acknowledge my efforts to save her, I won't stop. Last night, she pushed me down in front of everyone, strangers stared at me in a way that made me feel so ashamed. But I won't stop trying, she is simply ignorant of what is happening to her. I must bring her to the truth so she can be free once I have the information I need.

Right now, I have to stop Mr. Femriss from taking her away. I know he's using her again to satisfy his own selfish desires.

I dressed quickly, grabbed my handbag, and was about to leave when my mother walked into the room.

"Where are you going?" she asked, looking me over from head to toe.

"Mira needs me right now, Mom. I have to go. Please," I said, trying to move past her, but she pulled me back sharply.

"I've told you to stay away from that family. Why are you trying to drag us into trouble, Nora?" my mother said, her voice growing sad.

"Mom, Mira is in trouble, and you know we're the only ones who can help her. Why are you holding back? Can't you see she's wasting away?"

"That is not your business, Nora. Stay away from the Femriss family. I want to live long enough to take care of you, to see you become who you want to be," she said, her eyes searching mine. "We can't help her. We're not rich enough."

"No, Mom. We don't need money to help her, we need evidence. Give me what you have and let me fight this myself. Just watch me win," I said, determination burning in my voice. But she said nothing. She only stared into my eyes.

The room fell silent, our breaths the only sound, until she finally spoke again.

"You're all I have left, Nora, after your father was killed. The Femriss family is evil. They always get what they want. I don't want to lose you," she cried, and it broke my heart. But I couldn't back down.

"Do they always get what they want? Then it ends with me, Mom. This time, something has to be done," I said, taking her hand.

My mother knew everything about the Femriss family I needed to save Mira and she had the evidence. She was also a victim of one of Mr. Femriss's wicked operations. I found out the truth the first day I brought Mira home after school. My mother had told me to stay away from her, and when I refused to do so without a reason, she gave me a glimpse of the truth. I have been restless ever since.

For three years, I have been begging her to give me the evidence. She had it all, but she's scared to die, scared to lose me, and scared of Mr. Femriss. But I am not scared of anyone. I believed that one day he will go down and Mira will be free.

​"It hurts me to see my friend suffer when I know I can help her. To stay silent is wickedness. We're no different from the Femriss family if we keep holding back. Please, Mom," I pleaded. My mother stayed silent, tears rolling down her cheeks.

​"I know you're trying to protect us, but I have no peace. She is emotionally and physically abused, her dreams are shattered and her beautiful skin is scarred. And now Freya is teaching her how to drink, teaching her to be a drunk just to forget the pain she caused."

​"You don't know what Femriss is capable of doing to his enemies, Nora. He is always one step ahead of anyone coming for him," she flung my hand off, turning to leave, but I held her back.

​"Three years, Mother. Three years since I heard what happened to Freya, and I have not been at peace. I'm unhappy. I can't sleep, I can't even concentrate in school. If you truly care about me, you'll help Mira."

​She stared at me silently, then walked toward her room. I followed her.

​"I will tell you and show you all you need to know. I will give you the evidence you seek, but on one condition," my mom said as we stepped inside her room.

​My heart leaped with joy. I had finally won this argument after three years. Mira would be saved. And Freya... oh, I couldn't wait to see her wither away.

​"What's the condition?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

​Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity before she replied. "You will not do it yourself. You will present the evidence to people who can handle it without Mr. Femriss knowing we are involved."

​I wasn't sure how I'd manage that, but I nodded. I'd do anything for that information.

​She moved toward her wardrobe, reached under a heap of clothes, and pulled out a tiny box and placed it on the desk. Just as she was about to open it, three masked men burst into the room. One of them struck my mother on the head with a gun, and she collapsed.

​I screamed, but my voice was cut short as one of them covered my mouth and blindfolded me. I struggled, but he was too strong. My legs left the floor as he carried me out and tossed me into a car.

​I kept struggling, kicking and hitting, until I heard a familiar voice.

​"You stupid thing," the voice spat. A hard punch landed on my face, and everything went black.