Page 50 of Sadistic Retribution

I bite back a sarcastic laugh. This place has not ever—or will ever be—my home. I enter into the huge foyer, looking up at the crystal chandeliers and winding staircase.

I know my father will greet me right here, so I just stand and wait.

My father enters the foyer from the living area, walking towards me.“Son, you made it!” His voice booms, and he claps me on the back. I look at him like he’s crazy. What's with the show of affection?

He pulls me to him, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Be on your best behavior. We have dinner guests, and if you fail to impress them, the price will come from your girl. Got it?”

I glare at him, my upper lip turning up into a snarl before I can stop it.

He grabs the back of my neck, sneering in my ear again. “I expect complete cooperation. Otherwise, I can simply call some of my special friends over to visit...”

Oh, this piece of shit! His rapey fucking friends, he means. That was one of his favorite punishments for me when I was young if I didn’t react emotionally the way he wanted me to.

I laugh under my breath. “Good luck with that. I dare you to try that now.”

“Look, you little shit. Do you know how easily I could order my enforcers to hold you down? Do not test me.”

Oh fuck. Fuck shit fuck....

I shrug off his hand, letting him usher me into the dining room. Already seated at the table is a well-dressed man with graying hair, and a young woman wearing the best in designer fashion.

“Damien,” my father says, “this is Maxmillian Rosavich, and his lovely daughter, Zara.”

The man stands, extending his hand to shake.

I give him a firm one. “Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

The girl rises gracefully, pulling herself up tight with perfect posture. “Hello, Damien,” she says, with a thick Russian accent.

She is beautiful, no doubt. Golden brown hair flowing down her back in waves, light blue eyes, porcelain skin. Her voice is abit husky, which others may find sexy—but I only have eyes for Killer.

“Charmed,” I lift her hand to kiss it, and we all sit down.

“Now, then—to the business at hand. Damien, you are set up to wed the lovely Zara within the year. We wish to combine our families, and she is perfect for you.”

I raise a brow, not surprised it’s a business arrangement. “And what do you do, Mr. Rosavich?” I politely ask, but I'm really just fishing for information about this so-called “merger”.

“I work with your father at Aslanov Enterprises,” is all he says.

Right... sure.

My father has several “legit” businesses, and Aslanov Enterprises is the biggest one. They produce technology, mostly. The other not-so-legal ones are the real moneymakers, though.

I decide to just get through this meal from hell so I can get back to the guys. Conversation flits around the table, but I just pay rapt attention to my food.

Something brushes my leg, and I look up. Zara is smiling, her shoeless foot running up and down my leg. Fuck's sake.

I discreetly move around to knock her foot off me. She just comes back again. The more I shift, the more frown lines embed themselves in her forehead.

I know if my father notices, I’m toast. I only allow it so I can get the fuck out of here.

Thank fuck, everyone finally finishes up. I get up again to shake Mr. Rosavich's hand and kiss Zara’s, just like a proper gentleman.

He shakes firmly. “We will see you soon, Damien.”

As they leave, I look back to my father. “Do I go back now?” I ask, choosing not to complain about the arrangement to protect Killer.

“In a moment. Understand I chose the beautiful Zara for you when you had no emotions. She is solely interested in maintaining her lifestyle, producing heirs, and fucking on occasion. She has no interest in an emotional connection. However, now that you have shown me you finally can feel, it makes this that much sweeter.” The psycho pulls me into a hug. “I am proud of you, son. Don't blow it, understand me?”