One
Bianca
“Bianca, did you hear what I said?”
I ground my teeth as I closed my book before looking over to the owner of the deep, condescending voice.
David D’Angelou. Cutthroat man. Egotistical prick. Guy with suspicious business relations. And my new stepdad.
“Sorry. I was trying not to.” I added a sugar-sweet smile just to grate at his nerves.
He narrowed his dark eyes at me. A scowl settled on the face my mother couldn’t seem to get enough of. But I’d had enough of his face the moment she’d hauled him through our front door, her legs wrapped around his waist and his pants undone.
She didn’t know I’d come home from Holly’s house instead of staying the night. She didn’t know I was on the couch sleeping. Or was trying to sleep before David had my mother’s legs spread on our kitchen table like Christmas dinner, jackhammering away inside her like she was one of his construction sites.
I’d barely been able to bolt out of the living room before the nausea roiled so hard in my guts that I spent twenty minutes heaving my two-day old, leftover pizza into the toilet.
David didn’t leave after that. Instead, he’d towed our poverty-stricken asses to his massive house in the ritzy part of town where he’d promptly married my mother before the start of summer. It had turned us into a big happy family.
Which brought us to his current scowl.
“Are all your things packed?” he demanded, snatching my book out of my hands. He glanced at the title and rolled his eyes. “We leave for Bolten Academy in the morning.”
“Yes,” I snapped, getting to my feet and grabbing my book back from him. “And don’t touch my things.”
“Need I remind you that your things are now my things—”
“I know, I know!” I tossed my book onto the couch and turned to face him, my blood pumping in anger at the over-privileged sack of meat. “You made all of this possible.” I waved my hands around the large, pristine room decorated in varying shades of white. Sitting on the couch warranted a panic attack because heaven forbid I let my dirty fingers touch something. Being a snooty little brat wasn’t my thing, but David pushed buttons on me I didn’t even know I had.
“You’d do well to remember it, Bianca. I dragged you and your mother out of the gutters.”
“You also screwed my mother on the table my dad bought and we ate at as a family,” I snapped back, balling my hands into fists.
He advanced on me, a dark glint in his eyes. I stumbled away, my heart thudding unevenly in my chest. The back of my legs banged against the glass coffee table as David reached out and gripped my face painfully in his hand. He forced my head up so I was staring him in the eyes.
“Watch your mouth,” he hissed, his gaze trailing over my face.
I winced as he squeezed my face tighter, my hands moving to grasp his in an effort to remove his painful grip.
“I have the power here, Bianca. You’ve already seen what I’m capable of.”
I whimpered as he leaned in, his eyes locked on mine.
“You know who you belong to.” He pressed his lips against my forehead and let out a deep breath. His grip loosened on my cheeks before his hands trailed down to my waist, and he tugged me against his body.
“I saved you and your mother from hell. You’d be wise to listen and do what you’re told. You are property I bought and paid for.”
“You delivered us from one hell into another,” I rasped, my chest aching with fear. I wouldn’t back down though.
My mother wasn’t oblivious to what David did. But she’d changed since my dad ran out on us. She craved this life of luxury, status, and money. No matter the cost. So when I’d told her how David was with me, she’d given me a brittle smile and told me I needed to suck it up and do whatever he said.
I hadn’t seen my dad in nearly two years. People talked about him having gambling debts and running from the De Santis family, a mob syndicate with a far reach. My dad was a kind, loving man. I couldn’t fathom him getting wrapped up in mob activity, but I also couldn’t explain why he’d ghosted us either, leaving us with nothing but a goodbye letter in the form of his divorce from my mom.
David let out a soft chuckle, his breath blowing against my face. He pushed my long, blonde hair off my neck before nuzzling against my skin. I froze in his grip. David was a dirty asshole, but he’d never done that to me before.
“Don’t play hard to get, Bianca,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my sensitive skin.
I squeezed my eyelids closed, trying to calm my racing heart.
“I’m giving you the best of everything. As much as it kills me, I’m sending you away to get the finest education a girl like you can get. I’m giving you a future. Don’t be so ungrateful.”
“I don’t want it,” I growled, finding the nerve to shove against him. I let out a cry as he fisted my hair and threw me to the floor in a painful heap. Frightened, I stared up at him, awaiting his next move.
He didn?
??t disappoint me. In a flash, he yanked my hair again, forcing me to stare up at him.
“We have guests coming tonight. Get cleaned up and meet us in the living room this evening. There are some things you need to be aware of before you leave for Bolten. An announcement needs to be made. This was part of my payment. I intend on collecting.”
He released me, and I sagged to the floor, his footsteps fading as he left the room.
I had no idea what he was talking about. Payment? For what?
The man was nuts. As much as I didn’t want to go to Bolten Academy on his dime, the alternative of living under his thumb in this house was more than I could stomach. It was only a matter of time before he was doing more than threatening me and tossing me to the floor.
I glared from my seat on the couch as David entered the room with Sergio and Marian Ivanov behind him. Their son Mikhail—or Hail as everyone called him— sauntered in last. Hail was my age. If I didn’t know a thing about him, I’d think he was hot. Beyond hot. Blond hair. Muscles, a panty-soaking smirk. Blue eyes.
But I did know him, and I knew he was a piece of work, and not in a good way. He was cruel and power hungry. He didn’t pull any punches, making crass remarks to me whenever I saw him and letting me know he’d fuck me or fuck me over, depending on his mood. I wagered his dad was the same way, considering he was friends with David.
“Hey, sewer rat,” Hail greeted me softly, his smirk in place.
“Shut up,” I muttered, folding my arms over my chest.
He sank down beside me as my mother shifted in her chair.
“I’m glad you’re on time, Bianca. Heaven knows it’s not one of your strong suits.” David’s voice was soft, but his eyes glinted at me.
“Guess that shows you how dedicated I am to making sure I’m around enough to annoy the shit out of you,” I shot back, still pissed over the living room scene from earlier.
He sneered at me, a warning look, as Mom let out a breathy laugh, trying to diffuse an increasingly tense situation.
“We’re so glad you could join us for dinner tonight,” Mom tittered to the Ivanovs.