Ruthless Possession (18+)

Evangeline’s POV

Thwack!

The leather tore across my back with a sickening, familiar crack.

I gripped the edge of the worn wooden table, my knuckles turning stark white, my teeth biting down into my lower lip until the metallic taste of blood burst onto my tongue. I didn't scream. I never screamed. Screaming only gave him a high, and after nineteen years under my father’s thumb, I refused to grant him the satisfaction.

"You worthless, disgraceful little bitch!" Arthur Sterling roared, his voice thick with scotch as the belt slammed into my ribs again. Sharp pain bloomed across my skin because it was nothing compared to the agony of  a daughter getting beaten up by her own father.

. "I told you that you don't leave this house! You think you can go out there, working like some common street trash?"

"We needed food, Father," I whispered through grit teeth, my voice barely audible over the harsh sound of my own breath. "Isla and Aria haven't eaten a real meal in three days. You haven't given us a single penny in months—"

"Because you're girls!" He backhanded me, the blow spinning my head to the side as my cheek hit the floorboards. "You are useless drains on my estate! You don't get my money. You get what I decide to give you, and right now, you get nothing!"

I lay on the cold floor, staring at the dust motes dancing in the dim light. Devastation, heavy and suffocating, settled deep in my chest. Is this really it? I thought, a silent tear finally betraying me and slipping down my bruised cheek. Is this all my life will ever be? Protecting my sisters from a monster while he slowly beats the soul out of me?

Arthur raised the leather belt again, his face twisted in a drunken, cruel sneer. "Now get up and—"

The heavy oak doors of the grand foyer crashed open, the sharp sound echoing through the mansion like a gunshot.

Arthur froze, the belt dropping inches from my face.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway—heavy, measured, and possessing a terrifying authority that made the ambient temperature in the room drop to absolute zero.

A man stepped through the threshold.

He was towering, easily six-foot-four, his broad shoulders and muscular frame imposing enough to swallow the light in the room. He wore a tailored charcoal suit that clung to the lethal build beneath it, but it was his face that made my heart freeze in my throat. Sharp, razor-honed jaw, piercing amber eyes, and a cold, ruthless dominance radiating from him that made my father’s drunken rage look like child's play.

Few heavily armed men in black stood like shadows at his back.

"Who the hell are you?" Arthur spat, though he instinctively took a step back, clutching his bottle of scotch. "This is private property! Get out before I call—"

"Your guards are already dead, Arthur," the man's voice vibrated through the room, a deep, velvet baritone that sent a strange, terrifying shiver straight down my spine.

The stranger didn't even look at my father. His dark, golden eyes swept across the room until they landed on me—kneeling on the floor, bleeding, bruised, and wearing a cheap, torn waitress uniform. A dangerous, predatory flicker ignited in his gaze.

"Who are you?" I gasped, my voice trembling as I tried to pull my torn collar up to hide my bruised chest.

The man stepped forward, completely ignoring my father, and stopped right in front of me. The scent of expensive cologne, rain, and fresh leather washed over me as he slowly knelt down on one knee. He reached out, his massive, calloused hand cupping my jaw with surprising firm gently, forcing my face up so I had no choice but to look into his dark eyes.

"My name is Damon Vane," he murmured, his thumb brushing over the blood on my lip, his expression darkening at the sight of my injuries. "And as of five minutes ago, your father’s debts have been settled."

"Settled?" Arthur stumbled forward, his voice cracking. "What are you talking about? I signed the paperwork for the estate!"

Damon didn't look back as he stood up, his towering presence blocking out the rest of the room. "The estate was only worth half of what you owed my syndicate, Sterling. So we took the rest in collateral."

Damon turned his head slightly, giving my father a look so icy it silenced the drunk instantly.

"This house belongs to me now," Damon said coldly, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "And so does she."

My breath hitched. "What?"

Damon looked back down at me, his amber eyes locking onto mine with absolute, unyielding possession. "Your father sold you to me, Evangeline. Every inch of you. Your body, your life, your breath—it all belongs to the Vane family now."

"No!" I scrambled backward on the floor, terror spiking through the pain in my body. "No, you can't—my sisters—"

Before I could move another inch, Damon moved with terrifying speed. In one fluid motion, he leaned down, scooped his arms under my knees and back, and lifted me effortlessly against his broad, solid chest.

"Isla! Aria!" I panicked, thrashing against his rock-hard grip, but he held me like I weighed nothing at all.

"Your sisters are already being escorted to my primary estate from their school." Damon grunted smoothly against my ear, his strong arms locking around me like steel bands. "They will be fed. And you..." He paused, staring down into my terrified eyes, his grip tightening imperiously on my waist. "...you come with me."

"Don't touch me!" I hit his chest, but it was like punching a brick wall.

"Save your energy, little bird," Damon whispered, his voice dangerously low as he turned and carried me out of the blood-stained foyer, leaving my father standing alone in the ruins of his empire. "You're going to need it for tonight."