Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
In another life, I would’ve been appalled.
If I hadn’t had my humanity electrocuted out of me, I would’ve questioned why a woman was happy to trade in her own sex. How could she distance herself from offering up a girl to rape when it could so easily happen to her?
But I didn’t care.
All I cared about was going home, locking myself in my room, and ripping off this splintering excuse of a leg.
“I’m not interested,” I muttered.
My father sniffed beside me. “You will do your part, Aslan. As we discussed.” Grinning at the madame, he added, “Now, Elif, please show me the rest of your fairies. I heard a prominent American businessman is paying us a visit next week. He’s requested a private viewing of at least three girls that could fit into his uses back home.”
“Of course.” Elif bowed. “This way.” Stomping to the door, her purple dress swirled and twinkled.
“I’ll leave four guards outside, Aslan.” Cem clapped a hand on my shoulder. “To protect you.”
“Thank you, baba.” I nodded. “Very kind of you to keep me safe.”
“Always.” He squeezed me affectionately, then let me go.
The snick of the closing door sent prickles down my back. The silence in the small but decadent room thickened as my gaze fell on the naked girl, and hers rose to me towering over her. Blonde hair, blue eyes—
Crystal-blue eyes. Sea-glass eyes. Sky-blue eyes.
Neri’s eyes.
I swayed a little; I clutched my cane.
The girl noticed, her stare narrowing on my walking stick. “So you’re the one who’s going to rape me first?”
The twang of English.
The foreignness of a language that I used to speak so fluently but now sounded so wrong.
It didn’t belong in this country.
She didn’t belong in this country.
Every awful nightmare I’d had of actually letting Cem bring Neri here to rule beside me popped like dirty bubbles.
I could never.
I would never.
Fuck, I could never do that to her.
This was what I was.
A peddler of skin, a plyer of drugs, a murderer of innocent men.
“You fucking asshole.” She shot to her feet and balled her hands. “You probably can’t even understand me. You’re nothing more than a savage. Well, do your fucking worst. I’m done fearing you pricks. Karma will get you one day. One day, you’ll be sold into slavery. One day, you’ll be so fucking hurt you’ll wish you were dead. And when that day happens, I’ll be there. I’ll be a ghost watching you suffer, all because of what you did to me.”
My ears rang as my mind slowly remembered the nuances of English and the syntax of righteous hate.
I’d forgotten how that tasted.
How fury burned the tongue.
How rage ached the teeth.
How anger blistered in your bones and sliced dangerously through your blood.
The tiniest shroud of my conditioning fell away, all because of this hot-tempered American girl. This feisty, angry girl who would most likely be sold and screaming by tomorrow. She’d last a week, a month, a year before she was tossed away like a broken toy, replaceable and forgettable.
My knuckles whitened around my cane.
Fuck.
She bared her teeth and marched toward me.
I couldn’t move back.
I’d never quite mastered that on this fucking leg.
I stood my ground as she slapped my cheek and hissed, “I hope you die. I hope you fucking—”
I backhanded her.
One moment, she was standing. The next, she groaned on the floor.
Ice settled over me.
I hadn’t meant to strike her.
I hadn’t commanded my arm to do such a thing.
Yet...it’d happened.
Because I’m my father’s son.
She was disrespectful. Rude. And didn’t know a damn thing about me.
I’d already been tortured. I’d been raped of thoughts, hopes, and sanity. I was a ghost of the man I’d been and...
None of that is her fault.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sucked in a shaky breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my reflection in the huge gilded mirror angled to catch every activity that might happen on the bed. The reflection shimmered strangely, oddly contorted.
Another bolt of ice tumbled down my spine.
We’re being watched.
The mirror was two-way.
I didn’t know how I knew, but it was so fucking obvious.
Cem hadn’t gone to see other fairies. He’d gone behind that mirror to see if I obeyed.
My chest suffocated with jumbling emotions, but the one that won the quickest was black-dripping mirth.
I chuckled under my breath.
I couldn’t control my sick laughter.
I’d been thrown in here as the lion ready to devour the mouse.
I’d thought I was better than that.
I’d hoped I was better than that, even after five years of brainwashing.
Turns out...I’m not.
I’m as bad as him. As awful and sick and monstrous.
Cem will be so proud.
Dropping my hand, I limped forward, my cane sinking into the carpet.
The girl scurried away from me, scrambling over the embroidered cushions on the floor. She was pretty in a wholesome way. Full chest, rounded stomach, waxed pussy. She had a tattoo of a sunburst on her right hip and her light hair hung dead straight to her chin.