She stirs, moaning a little, but doesn’t wake.
“Where’s Genworth?” I demand.
A man moves forward like he’s going to take Hadley from me, but I shake my head at him. He frowns but nods.
“Come inside.”
Copper and I follow him up the steps and through the massive mahogany door. We step into a cavernous entryway that leads to an open area with two sets of staircases leading to a second floor. In the center of the open area is a large marble sculpture—a man riding a stallion that’s bucking.
The man walks over to a closed door and raps. “Sir. They’re here.”
A few moments later, the door opens and a man exits. He’s wearing a suit, but his hair is disheveled like he just woke up. Dark bags circle his eyes and his face is lined with creases.
“Hadley,” he chokes out, his hand flying to his chest. “Please don’t hurt her.”
Copper and I exchange a foul look.
“I fucking brought her to you,” I snap, drawing the man’s attention. “Kind of insulting to insinuate I’d hurt her now.”
His face pinches in confusion. “I’m Marron Genworth. Billionaire. People make it their job to hurt what’s mine.” Fear shines in his brown eyes that match hers exactly.
“Putnam wants her,” I bark out. “Can you promise she’s safe with you?”
He blinks rapidly at me. “I’m her father.”
“No fucking shit, Sherlock. Is she safe here?”
Slowly, he nods, as though he’s trying to figure me out. “Of course she is. I won’t let her out of my sight ever again. She’s eighteen now. No need to go to school. If she wants an education, I’ll bring someone here to give it to her.”
“Men on her. Round the clock,” I warn. “Because the moment you turn your head, he’ll be there.”
“What do you want?” he asks, his attention darting to his daughter. He rakes his gaze over her as though to assess her for damages.
“Her safety.”
“That’s it? You don’t want my money?”
This fucker is arrogant as shit. “I have my own.”
Despite my biker attire, he nods as though he believes me.
“Well, is that all?” he asks, impatience in his tone.
“Nope. That’s it.”
“I can take her from here.”
I shake my head. “Show me to her room. I’ll put her down there.”
The man grits his teeth, his face turning red, but gives me a clipped nod, motioning for the staircase on the left. I follow after him, looking at all the pictures of Hadley with her mother and father hanging on the walls. They go from when she was about a year old to sixteen or seventeen. She’s smiling her pageant-worthy smile in every one of them. At the top of the stairs, he leads us down a long hallway. He pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the door.
“It was hard looking in this room when she ran away,” he admits, his voice choked up. “I refused to let the cleaners come in here. I wanted to preserve the space—preserve her.”
The pain in his voice stirs something in my gut.
It feels familiar.
“I understand,” I grit out.
He narrows his eyes but then nods. We go into her room and I’m speechless. It makes me realize how young she really is. Band posters line the walls. She has a ton of shelves stuffed full of glittery crowns and trophies. Clothes are strung all over the place messily. Her drawers are open as though she was in a hurry when she packed a bag and left. The bed is rumpled and cans of soda sit on the end table.
Messy girl.
Genworth grabs the blanket and shakes it out, laying it flat. Then, he peels back the covers. I walk over to the bed, inhaling her scent one last time before laying her down. Pulling away, I watch bitterly as he tucks in his little girl.
Not mine.
His.
It’s a tough pill to swallow, but it’s for the best.
Here, she’s safe from Putnam.
At my compound, she’d be in danger.
I’m just stepping away when her eyes flutter open. She slowly takes in her surroundings and her lips part. A tear of betrayal leaks from her eye.
I’ve seen enough.
“Goodbye, PG.”
Hadley
I can’t pretend to be asleep for forever.
It’s been hours and hours since Koyn and Copper left me in my bedroom. I’d been so devastated, all I could do was close my eyes and pretend it was a dream.
I’m not here.
I’m not here.
I’m not her—
“Mr. Genworth wants to see you for dinner,” his second-in-command, Renaldo, grunts from my doorway. “It’s a black tie event.”
I sit up, rubbing at my eye with my fist. “What? Why?”
“A celebration.”
My stomach twists violently. “I don’t want to celebrate with all those people.”
Renaldo laughs. “Not all those people. Just you and Mr. Genworth.”
A shudder ripples through me. I mask my fear with a hiss. “Well, get the fuck out, loser. I’m not undressing in front of you.”
His smile widens. “You know I’ve seen everything.”
I grab one of the remotes off the end table and chuck it at him. He closes the door and it bounces off the wood. I wait for the familiar reminder I’m in prison.
Click.
Locked in.
Fuckers.
On shaky legs, I ignore the pounding in my head from whatever pills Koyn shoved down my throat, and make my way into my bathroom. I strip out of Koyn’s comfortable clothes and frown at my reflection. I’m littered in bruises and teeth marks. His cum is smeared on my thighs, dry and crusty. Tears well in my eyes.
How could he do this to me?
I turn on the shower and hug myself. I’ll need to come up with a new plan. Last time was pure luck that I managed to escape my dad’s greedy clutches. Now, he’ll really fortify this place and his efforts in keeping me detained. I step into the shower and let the hot spray wash away all the pain. So much pain. It’s like all the horrible men in the world find me. They want to feed on me. They want to use and abuse me.
Quickly, I wash my hair and then my body. My pussy is sore from all the pounding it took from Koyn and my asshole is still tender. I wonder how long I’ll wear the reminders of him on my body. After my shower, I go into socialite daughter mode. Hair. Face. Nails. Skin. I spend an ungodly amount of time getting myself to Daddy’s specifications. He only accepts perfection. Just ask my mother. She never quite could achieve the level he required, hence why she took her own life. Then, his obsession went from her to me.
The bruises on my neck and tits are too dark to cover up. Not that I want to. A small part of me craves to rebel against my father. To let him know I went out into that world and was used by men. It’ll be the worst fuck you. With a smirk, I search through my closet for the most revealing dress, to showcase all my bruises. I settle on a fitted, red silk gown. It hangs off the shoulders and dips low on the chest. The slits are high on each side of the long skirt, revealing all the fingerprint bruises Koyn left behind. I step into some nude Jimmy Choo pumps and then dress up my ears and wrists with glittery jewelry. A pang of loss hits me in the gut when I realize my tiara headband was left at Koyn’s.