My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 804

Chapter 804

I wiped my bloody boots on his uniform, racked the slide of my weapon, and stepped over their bodies without slowing down.

But the alarm remained screaming behind me.

“Security breach.”

“Security breach.”

IST

Gianna

191

Everything around me vanished.

My mind went unnaturally quiet, so quiet it scared me. I blinked once, slowly, and even that simple movement felt foreign, like my body was moving without me telling it to. My limbs felt heavy. Time seemed to drag.

The corridor faded first.

Then the glass cages disappeared.

For a moment, there was nothing left but him.

Only his face.

Older.

Harder.

But still his.

And suddenly I was a teenager again, strapped to a chair. My wrists too small for the restraints, but he had tightened them anyway.

“Hold still, Gianna!”

I remembered the slap, the sharp crack of his palm against my cheek. My head snapping sideways, the sting spreading across my face.

Worthless.

Another memory flashed before my eyes.

A metal tray with long needles lined up in perfect rows. His gloves, the cold touch of alcohol against my skin, then the needles.

Into my neck.

Into my back.

Under my feet.

Until my skin burned and my tears soaked the paper beneath me.

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I remembered the machines, the wires pressed against my temples. The first electric shock. My whole body jerking against the straps while he watched from behind the glass.

He had written something down. That was what I remembered most, not the pain but his pen. Moving across a sheet of paper while I screamed.

Another memory hit.

Water, cold water closing over my face. My lungs burning. My hands pulling uselessly against the restraints. I remembered trying not to breathe because I knew he wanted me to panic.

I remembered coming up coughing. I remembered him telling someone to start again.

And then Gio Jr.

His face flashed through my mind. My little brother, his face, his legs, his wheelchair.

We had believed there was a reason, that was the part that hurt the most. We had believed all of it meant something. That if we endured enough pain, if we survived enough sessions, if we became better subjects, eventually there would be an answer.

A cure.

A reason.

Something.

Anything.

My eyes burned, but now I knew. There had been nothing, no miracle, no cure, no great discovery waiting at the end of all those years.

Just a man with a God complex and countless children he could hurt because nobody stopped him instead my father had encouraged him.

My breathing became uneven.

Vance watched me, and then the smallest smile touched his mouth. There was no guilt in it but there was recognition.

He remembered what my fear looked like.

He knew the signs, the way my breathing changed, the way my body went still, the way my eyes searched for somewhere to escape. He knew exactly what was happening inside me.

And he enjoyed it.

Something dark settled behind his eyes as he watched the fear return to me. My pain pleased him. The damage he had left behind pleased him even more.

It was as if every scar he had carved into my body and every wound he had left inside my mind was proof that he had once owned me.

And seeing me afraid again made him feel powerful.

My hands began to shake, “You knew.”

His smile faded slightly.

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“You knew.”

He said nothing.

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