The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open.
“After you.” He says it in a way that would be polite if his tone wasn’t so condescending. Without reason, I’d say this guy doesn’t like me. Now I’m really nervous.
“Thanks.”
Stepping through the elevator doors, I find myself in another lobby. This one is smaller, but no less extravagant. At the opposite end is an enormous double door that probably cost more than my car. As I walk towards it, I notice the etched glass doors depict a holy war with angels and demons swirling in a vicious battle. The visual puts a looming dread in the air.
Bodyguard guy knocks twice on the thick glass, making me jump. Calm down, Raven. I’m freaking myself out. The door opens, and a petite blond girl wearing a skintight tank top dress and no shoes lets us in. I try to greet her, but her gaze is locked on her feet. I’m taken to an office where I’m told to sit and that Mr. Morretti will be with me shortly.
A large desk looms in the back of the room, only one chair in front of it. Guess that’s for me. I sit and stare out the floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk. I bet the view from here at night is one of the best in the city.
Minutes pass and my knee bounces. The heel of my foot pounds a fast, rhythmic beat into the floor. It seems like I’ve been waiting an eternity. My nails are chewed to the quick before I hear the door open behind me. The air gets heavy and the room seems smaller. I don’t have to turn around to know that Dominick is walking in behind me.
I haven’t seen him in five years, and even then, it was only for the minutes it took for him to drop off a package to my mom. I expected him to look older, but he’s exactly the same. His blond hair and familiar aquamarine eyes are set off by his dark tan. A radiant smile lights his face, a charming fa?ade that manipulates without effort.
“Raven, darling, you look exquisite,” he says like a proper gentleman.
Warning signals blare in my head, but I brush them off as nerves. “Thank you.”
He walks around his desk and sits in his chair opposite me. “You met Vince?” He nods toward the man over my shoulder.
I turn and see bodyguard guy standing in front of the closed doors, blocking any escape. My pulse races.
I should have listened to Jonah. Unease advances into fear. But why? He may not know me, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my biological father. I’m safe. Then why do I feel like running?
I need to get to the point so that I can get the heck out of here as soon as possible. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” He clears his throat. “I have a job offer for you.”
“I have a job, but thank you.” I stand to leave.
“Sit!” he barks, making me feel like a misbehaving dog.
Oh God, this is bad.
“I have a job offer for you, Raven. And you can’t say no.” His previous soft tone is now forceful.
“I don’t understand.”
Everything I know about Dominick is corrupt. What could he possibly want with me?
“You know, Raven, when I first started in this business, I was around your age. I was young, rich, and drunk with power.” He rolls a gold pen between his fingers. “I got bored easily. I knew from the moment I saw your mother she was something special. Everything about her screamed sex: the way she moved, the way she spoke. I’d never met anyone like her. It’s as if she were made for the singular purpose of pleasing men. I had to have her.” Depravity shines in his eyes.
Saliva rushes into my mouth and panic grips my insides.
“I had to have her, Raven, for two reasons. First, to capitalize on her God-given gifts for profit.” He spears me with a glare. “And second . . . to breed.” The last word he stretches out as a snake would if it could talk.
Breed? Like a dog? I know then I’m looking into the eyes of the devil himself.
“So that’s what I did. I used your mother to create another like her. The next generation, if you will, to meet the growing demands of my business.”
I don’t want to hear anymore. Tears pool in my eyes as I realize what kind of job he’s offering me.
“You want me to be a hooker for you.” This can’t be happening. He wants to sell my body for sex? My own da—no, I can’t bring myself to think of him as that.
“Hooker is such an ugly word,” he tsks. “I prefer escort. But, yes, that’s what you were created for. That’s why I made you. It’s time you fulfill your purpose.”
“No! I won’t do it. You can’t make me do it!”
Tears trail down my face, and I’m pissed he sees me weak.
“I can make you do it and I will. I’ll give you a couple weeks, say, until your twenty-first birthday. That should give you enough time to tie up any loose ends. Then you’ll be moved into one of my apartments,” he declares with a wave of his hand like a king on his throne of immorality.