My Twisted Lovers - Book Two of The Forbidden Lust

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Chapter 166

I have a feeling I know the answer to this question but I have to ask it anyway.

“Where are you taking me?”

The men all just stare at me.

“Oy, fuckfaces! Where the fuck are we going?!”

One of the guys in front smirks. “Our employer has requested your presence at her home. We will be arriving shortly.”

Yep, had a feeling this was where that was going.

They don’t say another word to me but when we arrive outside the familiar mansion all the restraint they showed earlier goes out the window, one of the men grabbing hold of my arm and ripping me from the car so hard I hear a pop.

“What the fuck?!”

I scream out but he doesn’t loosen his grip, fear starts running through me as I look around and see the grounds are empty, Antonio’s car nowhere to be seen. Fuck.

“Get the fuck off me!”

I attempt to reach around with my other arm and smack him but it’s quickly grabbed by one of Clarisse’s other goons as he pulls it back sharply.

Okay numb-nuts, that’s how you want to play it? Because like fuck am I going in there without a fight.

I start to scream as loud as I can to get someone’s attention, flailing my arms and legs, attempting to do everything I can to stop them from getting me inside that god forsaken house. I want people to know I’m here before she tries to fucking do something stupid to me.

The front door flies open. Fuck, it’s so quiet in here. There’s not a single staff member walking around looking busy, I can’t even hear any noise from the kitchen as we bypass it. She’s emptied the fucking place. I drag my heels as they attempt to pull me up the stairs, I need to get away from here.

“Stop being such a fucking bitch! She just wants to talk to you, you little fucking slut!”

The once silent brute holding my left arm lets go, instead grabbing hold of my throat roughly before pinning me to the wall and smacking me right across the face. Oh, you’re gonna fucking regret that.

My throat is still sore from the belt as he grips it tighter, the sweat dripping down his head and along his nose forcing his glasses to slide down. Think you’re a big fucking man don’t you? Well I ain’t your regular bitch. I can taste the copper in my mouth and with a smirk, I spit my blood filled spit straight into his face.

Apparently that was a mistake.

He rips me from the other man’s hold and I’m sent barrelling to the staircase with a crash ribs first. My cage screams along with my voice, pain flooding all through my senses and making me feel giddy until my once pure rage becomes masked by the stench of my fear. Instead of trying to pick me up they just grab hold of my hair and begin to tug me up the stairs by my roots.

I claw my nails at their hands, digging in as hard as I can whilst calling them every name I can think of until one of them begins to chuckle like this whole thing is one big joke to them.

“This one’s feistier than the rest, I can see why Tommy wanted her.”


He can’t fucking have me.

My knees drag along the carpet, burning as I try to scramble to my feet, but as a door opens ahead I find myself being thrown into a room. My body lands so awkwardly I wince, looking down to find myself on an expensive handwoven rug in front of a large mahogany desk.

“I see she put up a fight. Shame, I was hoping to do this the easy way. I did ask them not to be too rough with you Brianna, I see now you seem to want to bring this upon yourself.”

Her fake honeysuckle voice comes pouring into my ears from over the other side of the wood but I’m never going to let this bitch see she’s made me suffer. Forcing myself to my feet, I use one of the chairs for support as I return my way back to an upright position and make a point of smiling at her when I get there.

The door behind me closes and then it’s just the two of us. Alone. I should cut this bitch right here.

She doesn’t even get up from the oversized throne she calls a chair, she just smiles back at me sweetly before gesturing for me to take a seat.

I make sure to sit without showing an ounce of pain as I look over the desk at the evil incarnate that sits before me.

“Hello Clarisse.”


“Hello Brianna... I must say my dear, when I found out it was you making these claims, I didn’t know whether to laugh or slap my son for his own horrendous bad taste in sluts. He always liked them low born but I didn’t think he’d ever want one this low.”

Bad taste. Fuck you.

“Either way, I guess we’re both busy women so we should just get down to business. How much do you want?"

Oh she has got to be fucking kidding me. "How much what?" I ask like I don’t know exactly what she’s trying to do here.

Pulling open the drawer to her desk she takes out a large cheque book, flipping it to the next available empty slot and twiddling her fountain pen between her fingers as she glares at me.

“My god Brianna, we’re both aware you’re not quite as stupid as you look, so let’s not bother to play games... How much money do you want little girl? Ten? Twenty? That must be a lot of money to someone like you. How about I’ll make the cheque out for fifty and we’ll put all of this terrible misunderstanding behind us, shall we?"


It’s not like I’m actually shocked this was happening, after what Hannah told me about all of the other girls that had come forward, I fully expected to be offered money by Clarisse. Although, I didn’t think she’d drag me to her home or have me almost beaten by hired fucking suits to do it, I did think I’d end up facing her like this some how.

She’s not even trying to hide it anymore, her mask has completely dissolved in my presence. I remember walking in here with Sonya that first planning day; Clarisse seemed so sweet, like a little old cuddly panda bear just smiling her way through life. Now I can’t see any of that, she’s just a skinless snake ready and waiting with its fangs bared to pierce my skin and poison me at a moments notice.

The veil is gone. What’s underneath it... doesn’t even appear human.

“I don’t want your money Clarisse. There isn’t an amount you could pay me that would make me drop the charges. This is it, he’s done.”

Clarisse just turns to stare at me, continuing to twist her pen around and around in her fingers as she analyses my every move.

I refuse to cower. There’s nothing she can do to me that I haven’t experienced before. I’ve been hurt in ways she couldn’t possibly comprehend, she can’t do shit.

She leans forward on her desk, letting her chin lean against her clenched fist as she looks at me.

“It’s strange Brianna, in an almost surreal way I find myself having an abnormal amount of respect for you. Many people have told me they can’t be bought, but I think you may be the first person I actually believe when they say those words. That’s the problem with people who grew up with nothing, they’ve survived it so they have no fear of returning to it. It’s the only point you gain over us, my people. There is nothing more dangerous than a desperate girl with nothing to lose...remember that darling, it’ll serve you well if you ever leave here.”


“It seems ridiculous my son should pay with his most precious years just because you changed your mind at the last moment Brianna. I’m sure before that friend of yours hurt my boy, you were quite happy to continue with his little dalliance.”

This one is fucking defective, the wires are definitely not in the right fucking slots. "What the hell does that mean? Dalliance? He tried to rape me Clarisse! Please tell me you realise that? I’m not the first, how many girls has he done this to? Do you even know anymore, or do you believe somehow your money will protect you come judgement day when the world sees how black your fucking soul is?"

Clarisse scoffs. "Tommy is a powerful, handsome and very wealthy man, women are attracted to that. He can be forceful, I know, but most of you want what he's offering no matter how much you protest. I don't understand how so many of you keep putting yourselves in this position, it's pathetic."

How many women has he done this too that even Hannah doesn’t know about? "I did not want it. I tried to scream, I begged him to stop when I still had a voice but he wouldn't. If Steve didn't come along when he did then he'd have raped me. You do understand that right?"

Rolling her eyes she leans forward in her chair and rests on her elbows as she stares through me. "Rather dramatic don't you think Brianna? Who wouldn’t want him? You sound just like that wife of his. Always screaming at him to stop like he didn't own her the moment he put our last name on hers. She has two beautiful children because of his force and yet she still cries every time he goes near her. Weak women just don't know how to handle a man like my Prince, he's strong like his grandfather and he knows what he wants. There's nothing wrong with that. My other two unfortunately take after their father, they'll learn. I'll make them. Tommy knows a Vanderbilt must always be in control."

She's sick. What kind of fucking woman would stand by and let someone do these things to other women and cover it up?

“His wife? He rapes his wife?”

She laughs, like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “My god Brianna, listen to yourself. She knew what she was signing up to, she knew what would be expected of her. When she resists, he pushes, just like I taught him, she should be grateful! That good for nothing bitch is always complaining about something. I pay for those scrawny little children of hers to go to the best boarding school on the planet and what does she do? Cry. She cries out for them so much I had to have the help drag them away from her last time. Pathetic.”

What the fuck? Is she even human anymore? That woman... I have to get her out of here. Hannah, she’ll help her. No-one should have to live like this.

“It’s not how a Vanderbilt should behave. She’s better now I took them away from her completely, I’ve had to keep her children from her for two years but she’s finally learnt how to shut up. She was spreading her weakness, poisoning them with thoughts they shouldn’t have about the way we live. She thought they actually belonged to her but they don’t. They’re my blood, my sons children. If I could’ve had them myself for him I would have. They’re Vanderbilt’s, she’s just the vessel that brought them to us.”

Oh god, I want to be sick. The way she talks about him... it’s not the way a mother should talk about her son... Oh fuck, she’s in love with him.

Clarisse leans into the drawer of her desk and pulls out a heavy folder, packed to the brim with paper work. I have no idea what it is until I look at the name splashed across the front in her own handwriting.

‘Brianna Destiny Parker’
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