Page 49 of Beautiful Villain
I knew they felt some level of claim over me, but this morning has made it startlingly obvious that what they feel about me is a hell of a lot more intense than I realized. A part of me was really hoping that eventually they’d let me go. Now it’s clear that the moment they jammed that needle into my neck, any kind of escape from them has been nothing but wishful thinking on my part.
My aunt Darla was a big fan of silent treatment as a form of punishment. She once went a full two months without uttering a word to me. Now, to some people, that might not seem too bad, but it was during summer vacation and as I didn’t have any real friends, I went almost the entirety of my summer break without speaking to a soul.
Over and over, I keep telling them to treat me like a prisoner, but if they were to just leave me alone and make everyone ignore me, that would break me much faster than a spanking would.
Honestly, and I’d never admit it to them, but I’ve always had a secret fantasy about being spanked. In my head, it’d hurt a lot less and been a lot sexier. But being over Vik’s knee ticked a lot more boxes than I was expecting.
Since I woke up on this island, I feel like I’ve been in emotional whiplash, swinging from fear to anger and back again. Feeling desire with a hint of pain and a dash of humiliation was so different, that it was almost too easy to give in to the new feelings Vik had provoked in me and just bask in them.
The first time his palm landed on my butt, I thought I wouldn’t be able to take it, but after a while the pain changed into something else. I wouldn’t say I liked it, but I definitely didn’t hate it either. At another time with a different guy, I might even say I’d found a kink I liked. But this isn’t the time and Viktor definitely isn’t the person.
But right now, he’s leading me through the house and toward the kitchen and I’m letting him. At breakfast he was an asshole, and I went to the bedroom so angry at all of them, especially him. But now all that animosity seems to have faded and I just feel pleasantly numb.
My mom was a junkie, I understand the draw of oblivion, I saw it a hundred times right after she pushed the needle into her vein. Could this feeling become as addicting?
“Tanya, can you bring two glasses of ice water, a glass of juice, and some snacks out to the patio, please?” Vik calls.
Blinking, I absently notice we’re outside the kitchen and Tanya is staring at me with a look of hate that’s so pure it actually snaps me out of my euphoric haze.
“Of course, Mr. Vik, I’ll bring it right out,” she coos meekly, her whole expression changing when she looks up at Viktor.
“She’s in love with you,” I tell him as soon as I’m sitting down. “All of you, I think, but specifically you.”
“I know,” Vik says simply.
“Have you and her…?” I trail off, unsure why I don’t feel like I can just come out and ask.
“Fucked?” he answers for me. “No, I’ve always considered her a little like a younger cousin. When we moved here, we warned them that leaving wasn’t an option. That if they moved to the island they’d be agreeing to live here for the rest of their lives. They’re family, which means they’re a weakness and we can’t risk them leading others back here. We assumed Tanya wouldn’t want to come, but she insisted she did. We didn’t know it was because she hoped living here would mean her becoming more than just our trusted and appreciated staff. If we had, we would never have brought her and now she’s just a little too angry to allow her to leave.”
“So, she’s as much a prisoner as I am?” I murmur.
“She’s nothing like you. She wants us and we don’t want her. But we wanted you so much we took you, and eventually you’ll crave us the same way we do you,” he tells me confidently, his eyes bright with fire.
“Why not just have her pose as me? You said no one else knew about me before you poisoned Grigoriy, so why not forge the DNA results and have her, or someone else be Alena Polakoff?”
“Perhaps we would have. Not Tanya, because your father and the others all knew her as a very young child, but I suppose we could have found another woman. But then we saw you.” He shrugs. “No one else but you would do from that moment onward. I know it’s hard to believe, but from the second we laid eyes on you, we knew that this is exactly where you’d end up.”
“A prisoner with a sore ass,” I say, laughing lightly to myself.
“I went easy on you; it won’t be sore for long. By dinner you’ll be sitting down without wincing.”
“You went easy on me?” I shriek. “That wasn’t easy.”
“Oh, Baby, I assure you that was me being gentle. If I really wanted to punish you, I wouldn’t do it with my hand, I’d do it with my belt.”
Jolting back, I swallow thickly. “Your belt?”
“Yep. I’d start with you over my lap, spanking you with my hand until your ass was bright red and hot to touch, then I’d bend you over my desk, or a chair, or even have one of the others hold you. Then I’d blister your ass with my belt until just the thought of sitting down made you cry.”
“That’s how your grandad and dad treated their wives?”
“I never saw it. Dad never disciplined Mom like that in front of me. But there was a thick leather belt that hung on a hook in my parents’ bedroom and I heard him tell her to go upstairs and get it one day when I was about fifteen.”
“Why?” I breathe, unable to stop myself from asking.
“He found out she was writing letters to the woman your father was married to at the time. They’d been friends before our families were banished and my mom didn’t want to lose touch with her. Dad knew it was dangerous for us to try and contact anyone from back home and he warned us never to try. She ignored him and when he found out, he punished her severely.”
“What happened?”