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CHARLEIGH
TWENTY YEARS OLD
She triedto smile as she sat beside Frederick Winston at the big banquet table surrounded by the elite. The room was stuffy though filled with chatter, the clank of champagne flutes and the drone of camouflaged arrogance as the upper crust went on about their latest achievements.
She tried not to flinch when Frederick slung his arm around the back of her chair, the bare brush of him against her nearly sending her into panic. Her lower back burned with the lashes that he’d inflicted the previous night—punishment for her not texting him after she’d arrived at the store.
He had her so tangled in his web that she no longer knew who she was. His manipulation running deep. His perversion deeper.
Hooks embedded in her body and soul.
Nausea spun in her stomach as she sat listening to him go on about how great he was, in that deceitfully humble way that everyone boughtinto.
If they only knew…
Two years ago, he’d offered her one night in exchange for not turning in her father. Only he’d laughed when she’d tried to walk out, warning, “I’m only getting started with you.”
It was the beginning of a nightmare.
Years of abuse and exploitation.
He’d long squashed her dreams of medical school, and if she was being honest, he’d long squashed her dreams of anything.
Every time she tried to get free of his chains, a threat was made against her family. Threats that had grown increasingly more nefarious. Threats she knew he would make good on because she’d witnessed his barbarity multiple times. The people who went missing. The questionable deaths.
And when she didn’t cave to the fear he wielded, she was punished.
She cringed when she realized he’d felt her flinch, his presence making her want to vomit as he leaned in and whispered in her ear, as if he were a doting lover rather than a monster, “Watch yourself, Sweet Pea.”
Sickness boiled at the way he’d twisted her family’s endearment.
“It would be such a shame if something happened to your mother, wouldn’t it? She’s so innocent in all of this.”
He tsked it as he stroked his knuckle down the column of her throat. He’d insisted on the strapless dress, saying he loved the unblemished skin of her shoulders.
The scars he’d mercilessly inflicted were hidden underneath.
“Show my friends how beautiful your smile is,” he muttered with all the vileness he possessed.
She forced a smile, as if he’d been whispering sweet nothings to her, giggling as she turned to gaze at him. She wished with all of her that she could grab the steak knife next to her plate and drive it between his ribs.
He grinned as if he were pleased. But he never remained pleased for long.
Her hand flew to her mouth to cover the sob as she stared down at the positive pregnancy test that she’d taken in the bathroom at the store. Horror tumbled through her, a terror unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
This couldn’t be happening.
It couldn’t.
She couldn’t bring a child into this depraved world.
She sank to her knees, gripped in a fear greater than she’d ever felt.
She held the baby boy against her chest, ran her fingers through the soft locks of his blond hair. Tears streamed incessantly.
But in them was a newfound ferocity.
A new determination that lined her bones in steel.
