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27 Aralık 2021, 23:31
Claire was shaking, still in an erotic fugue. This was what she feared, why the past three years for her had been a desert. Nothing with a lover was ever simple and with Sebastian it would always be hot, fast, and painful.
Damn it, that had been everything she wanted, every dark, hot, stolen fantasy. Yet it was better than she could have thought. Better and worse, of so much worse.
"What am I doing?" She asked the mirror as she heard the door shut, Sebastian stomping out.
This was exactly what she feared. Kellners played games, always playing. It was how they made their money, how they destroyed competition, and how they controlled one another. It was simple: she needed money, and this family executed the trust owed her. Any other family on earth would sign it over or take her to court. Sebastian had instead told her it was liquidated and gone, he would replace it, but only if she was his whore for twelve days.
It spoke highly of their methods that she had even agreed to it. A truly strong, independent woman would have laughed in his face and stalked off. Not Claire though, those twelve years in this clan had warped her. She needed to escape and she needed to do so now.
There was an old account from her high school days, it wasn't much but it would help. The original bank had been bought out, that one bought out, but she could probably still access it. If she had enough for a plane ticket, she was good.
Claire washed her face and put on the new casual clothes she'd bought hastily. Tying her hair into a ponytail she stuffed the rest of the clothes into the duffel bag she'd bought and then checked her purse. It was early enough Luisa wouldn't be in yet, and so she slipped out the door unseen.
Freedom again was so close. She slipped on her sunglasses against the early morning light. Claire was sick of running away, she wanted something to run to. That was truly her deepest fantasy.
***
Sebastian rubbed his fist with glee as his uncle slumped in a chair, cradling his cheek. "You're a fucking madman!"
"I'm not the one who tried to force myself on a young woman I raised like a daughter!"
"What are you talking about!?"
"Michael?"
At his wife's voice they both yelled out to leave them alone, and Michael took advantage of the distraction and stood, running behind the bar of his study to pour a drink. His cheek was scuffed his short dark hair mussed, and his eye was blackening already. "She's lying, that little bitch always lied. I'd say ask her mother, if her mother wasn't dead."
"She lies? You drained her trust fund!" Sebastian wanted to pummel him, but he wanted answers more than anything. "If she's lying, why did she leave us that night, scared out of her mind? She disappeared for two years before grandfather dragged her kicking and screaming back. The second she finished school she left, and she showed up here with nothing but the clothes on her back."
Michael shifted his jaw and slammed back the martini he'd poured. "Do you think I haven't kept tabs on her? Angela Johnson was the name she used, and she lived in Toronto. Do you know what your precious little intended was doing? Hell, I won't tell you, it'll be more fun to ask her.
"She's back now because she knows you forced me out. Try as you might the charter still states there have to be two Kellners in charge of the company. She knows even in this economy the company's posting record profits and figured, 'well gee, Ferdinand once wanted me to marry Sebastian, maybe I'll just go an seduce him and walk away with half the company.' Sound about right? She seduce you yet? Not hard, you'd fuck anything barely female, and she's certainly more than that. Tits are better than ever."
Sebastian was standing outside himself, watching in slow motion as his body vaulted the couch and his fist slammed so hard into his uncle's face Michael's head snapped back and crashed into the shelves of liquor. Bottles fell and burst open and he was down, punching again and again.
Someone screamed and tiny hands were on him, it was his aunt du jour that snapped Sebastian back into himself. She was screaming, there were words, but the buzzing in his ears was too loud. He shoved her away and stood stiffly.
All those years, it made sense now. His uncle, that evil pile of filth, had tried to violate Claire. No wonder she was scared, babbling that night. Stupidly, so stupidly even for a seventeen year old boy, he had thought her trembling was just nerves at his touch. He had enjoyed the rush of power, seducing her.
Stalking out to his car he realized he wanted to punch himself. That night a scared girl who trusted him had come to him for comfort, to wipe out an ugly memory. With no clue he'd been rough and selfish, and then when she had begged him to leave he'd missed the terror in her eyes and refused. For twelve years the hurt he'd felt at waking alone had festered and now he knew it had not a single goddamn thing to do with him.
Sitting in his car he punched the steering halkalı escort (https://kagithanezeytinburnuescort.xyz/kucukcekmece-escort-bayan-ilanlari-kucukcekmece-eskortlari) wheel so hard his hand ached. He'd been a fool. Claire had been swept into the world of the Kellner family and suffered nothing but abuse and manipulation. She had come to him for help and he'd failed her. Twelve years later she comes for help once more and what had he done but play games, manipulate, and abuse her.
She was right. He was the worst of the bunch.
***
The city had changed in twelve years. It was cleaner and shinier, quieter and louder, and grittier and more sinister than she remembered. It was a pulsing thing, alive, but it was no one's mother; Chicago was a tempestuous lover on her best day, and today she was not letting Claire go.
She walked to burn off her anger, but Kenwood was a long walk to any transit of note. So she wandered aimless and angry. After a time she had to ask herself just why she was so angry. She knew Sebastian's game, and he hadn't done anything outside of the scope of his game plan, there were no true surprises.
She stopped and hefted the duffel higher on her shoulder. Claire was angry at herself. She'd known his game, she had thought she could play to win, but there was no way, was there? It didn't matter how much he had changed, he was still Sebastian.
Hell, now that she thought about it the seeds were always there. He'd been a quiet, serious child who always had to have his way in games. When they had begun spending time alone, experimenting, he'd always been the one in charge. Her memories were colored, but the love she had felt then was for a pigheaded, obstinate, pain in the ass. These days he was still exactly that, with a little bit more life experience behind him and an added touch of arrogance.
Still he'd stopped when she'd asked. He'd been a caring lover, if demanding beyond belief. He'd taken her in when she'd needed a place to stay, fed her, clothed her, trusted her alone in his home. Hell, he'd offered up his money to replace what of hers had been stolen.
There was goodness in Sebastian, just enough to keep her there ten more days. She would do the best she could, but focus on survival.
Strained to a breaking point she realized she was outside a little mom
Damn it, that had been everything she wanted, every dark, hot, stolen fantasy. Yet it was better than she could have thought. Better and worse, of so much worse.
"What am I doing?" She asked the mirror as she heard the door shut, Sebastian stomping out.
This was exactly what she feared. Kellners played games, always playing. It was how they made their money, how they destroyed competition, and how they controlled one another. It was simple: she needed money, and this family executed the trust owed her. Any other family on earth would sign it over or take her to court. Sebastian had instead told her it was liquidated and gone, he would replace it, but only if she was his whore for twelve days.
It spoke highly of their methods that she had even agreed to it. A truly strong, independent woman would have laughed in his face and stalked off. Not Claire though, those twelve years in this clan had warped her. She needed to escape and she needed to do so now.
There was an old account from her high school days, it wasn't much but it would help. The original bank had been bought out, that one bought out, but she could probably still access it. If she had enough for a plane ticket, she was good.
Claire washed her face and put on the new casual clothes she'd bought hastily. Tying her hair into a ponytail she stuffed the rest of the clothes into the duffel bag she'd bought and then checked her purse. It was early enough Luisa wouldn't be in yet, and so she slipped out the door unseen.
Freedom again was so close. She slipped on her sunglasses against the early morning light. Claire was sick of running away, she wanted something to run to. That was truly her deepest fantasy.
***
Sebastian rubbed his fist with glee as his uncle slumped in a chair, cradling his cheek. "You're a fucking madman!"
"I'm not the one who tried to force myself on a young woman I raised like a daughter!"
"What are you talking about!?"
"Michael?"
At his wife's voice they both yelled out to leave them alone, and Michael took advantage of the distraction and stood, running behind the bar of his study to pour a drink. His cheek was scuffed his short dark hair mussed, and his eye was blackening already. "She's lying, that little bitch always lied. I'd say ask her mother, if her mother wasn't dead."
"She lies? You drained her trust fund!" Sebastian wanted to pummel him, but he wanted answers more than anything. "If she's lying, why did she leave us that night, scared out of her mind? She disappeared for two years before grandfather dragged her kicking and screaming back. The second she finished school she left, and she showed up here with nothing but the clothes on her back."
Michael shifted his jaw and slammed back the martini he'd poured. "Do you think I haven't kept tabs on her? Angela Johnson was the name she used, and she lived in Toronto. Do you know what your precious little intended was doing? Hell, I won't tell you, it'll be more fun to ask her.
"She's back now because she knows you forced me out. Try as you might the charter still states there have to be two Kellners in charge of the company. She knows even in this economy the company's posting record profits and figured, 'well gee, Ferdinand once wanted me to marry Sebastian, maybe I'll just go an seduce him and walk away with half the company.' Sound about right? She seduce you yet? Not hard, you'd fuck anything barely female, and she's certainly more than that. Tits are better than ever."
Sebastian was standing outside himself, watching in slow motion as his body vaulted the couch and his fist slammed so hard into his uncle's face Michael's head snapped back and crashed into the shelves of liquor. Bottles fell and burst open and he was down, punching again and again.
Someone screamed and tiny hands were on him, it was his aunt du jour that snapped Sebastian back into himself. She was screaming, there were words, but the buzzing in his ears was too loud. He shoved her away and stood stiffly.
All those years, it made sense now. His uncle, that evil pile of filth, had tried to violate Claire. No wonder she was scared, babbling that night. Stupidly, so stupidly even for a seventeen year old boy, he had thought her trembling was just nerves at his touch. He had enjoyed the rush of power, seducing her.
Stalking out to his car he realized he wanted to punch himself. That night a scared girl who trusted him had come to him for comfort, to wipe out an ugly memory. With no clue he'd been rough and selfish, and then when she had begged him to leave he'd missed the terror in her eyes and refused. For twelve years the hurt he'd felt at waking alone had festered and now he knew it had not a single goddamn thing to do with him.
Sitting in his car he punched the steering halkalı escort (https://kagithanezeytinburnuescort.xyz/kucukcekmece-escort-bayan-ilanlari-kucukcekmece-eskortlari) wheel so hard his hand ached. He'd been a fool. Claire had been swept into the world of the Kellner family and suffered nothing but abuse and manipulation. She had come to him for help and he'd failed her. Twelve years later she comes for help once more and what had he done but play games, manipulate, and abuse her.
She was right. He was the worst of the bunch.
***
The city had changed in twelve years. It was cleaner and shinier, quieter and louder, and grittier and more sinister than she remembered. It was a pulsing thing, alive, but it was no one's mother; Chicago was a tempestuous lover on her best day, and today she was not letting Claire go.
She walked to burn off her anger, but Kenwood was a long walk to any transit of note. So she wandered aimless and angry. After a time she had to ask herself just why she was so angry. She knew Sebastian's game, and he hadn't done anything outside of the scope of his game plan, there were no true surprises.
She stopped and hefted the duffel higher on her shoulder. Claire was angry at herself. She'd known his game, she had thought she could play to win, but there was no way, was there? It didn't matter how much he had changed, he was still Sebastian.
Hell, now that she thought about it the seeds were always there. He'd been a quiet, serious child who always had to have his way in games. When they had begun spending time alone, experimenting, he'd always been the one in charge. Her memories were colored, but the love she had felt then was for a pigheaded, obstinate, pain in the ass. These days he was still exactly that, with a little bit more life experience behind him and an added touch of arrogance.
Still he'd stopped when she'd asked. He'd been a caring lover, if demanding beyond belief. He'd taken her in when she'd needed a place to stay, fed her, clothed her, trusted her alone in his home. Hell, he'd offered up his money to replace what of hers had been stolen.
There was goodness in Sebastian, just enough to keep her there ten more days. She would do the best she could, but focus on survival.
Strained to a breaking point she realized she was outside a little mom