You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 95

RALI

"I hardly obsess over things, Zerali," Grayson's voice only fueled my irritation as he undid the buttons of my black shirt. "I am mostly focused on business and barely have time for women. But you ..." he exhaled through his nose and gave a small shake of his head, as if even he couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth.

"There was something about meeting you. It was like finding a missing piece in a puzzle I didn't know was incomplete."

I felt a tear leak out of the corner of my eye. My arms lay limp by my sides. My gaze glued to the ceiling that blurred more with every blink.

My body didn't belong to me anymore. I felt like I was drowning inside it, trapped in flesh that refused to fight.

Grayson continued his grotesque little soliloquy, like he was writing some sick love letter with his mouth. "I started obsessing over you since then. Every time you walked past me at work, I imagined how divine you'd look in my bed."

I didn't even realize my shirt was gone until his hand brushed against the bare skin of my stomach.

Oh, God.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I prayed for a miracle. Harder than I ever have. Not even when Void painted my skin with pain did I beg this hard.

I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want Grayson to touch me. I was sure I'd never be able to live with myself.

"Please.... don't do this."

When he dragged a finger from my navel to my chest, I wanted to puke. God, please.

Gathering the little bit of strength I could, I moved my hands to hit him, but even the air between us laughed at my effort.

He caught my hands as casually as you'd swat a mosquito, then shoved them down beside me.

"You should relax and enjoy this, Zerali." He reached for the waistband of my pants. "I'll pay you real good when we're done. If you're smart and you behave, we could keep this going and you'll never have to worry about your finances."

I don't want you. I don't want your money. Please, don't touch me.

There were a thousand sentences clogged in my throat. How do I make him understand that I didn't want to be touched by him?

More tears leaked out of my eyes. He rid me of my pants, and in that moment, I wished I was strong enough to snap my own neck.

Fuck. Where is a miracle when you need one?

I tried again—one last desperate attempt to fight him off. I tried to sit up so I could, I don't know, punch him with fists that felt like soaked tissues? I didn't get a chance to decide, though, as he shoved me back down, effortlessly.

Grayson's betrayal didn't just sting. It rotted something inside me. I'd trusted this man. Hell, I wouldn't have suspected him even if he was caught red-handed with my candies in his mouth.

How could he do this to me? How dare he?

Grayson was touching me. Here I was, splayed in bed and helpless while he did what the hell he wanted with my body. His hands were skimming my bare skin.

Fuck.

There was a loud, ruthless bang in my head. Or so I thought until I noticed Grayson's monstrous face twisting into something like concern.

When his body lifted from mine, the air felt lighter, as if my lungs had been waiting years to breathe.

The banging persisted, then I realized it wasn't in my head. It was the door.

What was happening?

I turned on my side with a wheeze, but the world pitched and tilted like I was on a sinking boat. The floor crawled up the walls, and the door… the door was smaller than it had any right to be, like it had retreated into another room entirely.

I had to squint my eyes to realize the bottle-shaped blur near the door was Grayson.

The bottle paced. Then, a portal opened.

Oh. It was the door. The door opened!

"Once again, I apologize on his behalf, Zerali."

Her hand slipped from my back as she sat straighter, folding her legs. "I understand how difficult this might be for you, honey, but if it's not too much to ask, could we perhaps… keep this between us?"

That was when I finally looked up. Fifteen minutes of staring at the floor between my knees, and this was the sentence that yanked my attention.

My eyes lifted to her face. Then drifted to Grayson's whose head was still dipped.

I hadn't really processed what I wanted to do. Filing a report, seeking revenge, blowing the whole thing up—none of those options had been clearly floating in my exhausted mind.

But hearing her ask me to keep quiet? That surprised me. Why was she trying to protect him?

"He... he drugged me."

"I know," her tone melted into something more tender as she reached across and clasped my hand. Her eyes held a kind of empathy that made me feel she was shouldering the ache with me. "What Grayson did was unbelievably reckless. But thank heaven it didn't escalate further. He's sorry, honey. He really is. Please, don't take this to the public."

Sorry? I flicked a gaze at him and scoffed. I've seen mall cops show more regret while writing parking tickets.

"Give me a second," Vlyrissa said.

I watched her reach for her bag where she pulled out a cheque book and scribbled on a page. Surprise knitted my brows when she tore out the page and extended it toward me.

"Consider this... compensation. I know money can't erase the nightmare, but I'm hoping this will suffice. And just in case you need more, please do let me know."

I stared at the cheque without touching it. This was insane!

Was Vlyrissa Thorne actually trying to pay me off to protect Grayson? Why would she even do that for his sake?

She was currently the first lady, and if anyone should be speaking on Grayson's behalf, it should be me. I thought the two were just business acquaintances? Why go to such lengths to protect him?