Original Sins by Faith Summers

7

Evie

Ibarely slept last night.

I lay in the bed and thought about the shit hole I’d fallen into.

A shit hole is exactly what I think best describes what’s happening around me.

I felt worse when Cordelia called Dad and told him what happened.

She spoke to him, not me, but I heard what she said and saw from her reaction that she wasn’t happy with the direction the conversation took.

She finished talking to Dad outside the room where I couldn’t hear, and when she returned, she told me to try and sleep. She said we’d talk in the morning, and it was getting late.

That told me everything I already knew.

Peter said it well when he reminded her who he was. He’s the asshole my father places on a pedestal above me.

What I do want to know is what Dad said to Cordelia. I want to know what words he said to her when she told him what happened.

I roll onto my back, and I think of that moment when I first knew Peter wasn’t what he appeared to be.

It was a feeling I got after I heard him arguing with my brother.

It was the same night I last saw Dante.

The argument was unlike any they’d had because Peter was saying all sort of shit about Dante. The argument came after a family lunch a little like the dinner we had the other night. Dad announced he was going to allow Dante to work with him at the bank while he was finishing his last year at Northwestern. Both he and Peter had been doing their Accounting and Business degrees there.

Dad made the proposal with a view to Dante running the bank after graduation. Dad would oversee Dante until it was time to retire, and Peter would be Dante’s assistant.

I was so proud of my brother, and he was proud of himself. Peter, however, seemed furious at the arrangement. It was clear he didn’t think my brother was deserving of such an accomplishment. Of the two, I knew Peter worked harder, and Dad was lenient on Dante because my brother was the kind of guy who didn’t have to try hard to do anything. He was naturally talented. He was that guy who could take off for the whole semester and show up for the exams and ace them. What appeared to be laziness to others was him just making use of his time in other ways.

I never usually take note of anything to do with business, but I did then. I saw how Peter looked.

I took note, too, when I heard Peter and Dante arguing by the poolside later that night. Dad was away on business, so it gave Peter the perfect opportunity to call my brother an incompetent trust fund prick without my father hearing.

Peter stormed off, but Dante saw me watching. I tried to ask him what was going on, but he wouldn’t tell me. I always got on really well with my brother, but that was an example of him not confiding in me because of our differences in age. I was fifteen, and at the time, he’d just turned twenty-two.

The next night, in the later hours, I was woken up by more arguing. This time Dante was on the phone, but I heard him mention Peter’s name.

The same bad feeling I always have came to get me, so I snuck out of my room to listen in on the conversation.

Dante ended the call before I could take note of what was being said, but then he left the house.

It was when I saw him walk into the woods that I decided to follow. That woodland area was part of the grounds of our home we shared with the public footpaths. The section we owned was beautiful, and I often went running there when I wasn’t at school. The public pathway, however, always creeped me out, even during the daytime.

I knew what route to take to get past the guards, so I did, and I followed Dante to the river.

Foolishly I gave my position away when I stepped on a branch, and all stealth went out the window when he saw me.

He was so furious that I’d followed and started to tell me off when we heard footsteps.

He called out Peter’s name, and that’s the thing that stuck in my mind.

There was no answer, however.

Dante hid me behind a tree and told me to stay there and keep quiet.

I didn’t. When he walked away to search the area, I looked on from where I was. I must have been twenty feet away. Near but far.

Dante called for Peter again, and not even a minute later, three men stepped out of the thicket of trees.

One was older than the others. The fear of God took me when I saw them and froze me to the spot.

Just as Dante was going to say something, the older man pulled out a gun and shot him twice. In the sliver of the moonlight, all I could see was the man’s face and a tattoo of a black snake on the man’s hand as he raised the gun and killed my brother.

Fear robbed me of screaming, and until this day, I don’t know how it was I didn’t scream.

As the men rushed away, I stood there, unable to do anything but question myself if I’d stumbled into some kind of nightmare. I couldn’t believe it was real.

I remember my body moving on its own as I realized the truth of what happened to my brother.

I rushed to his side, and he died in my arms.

Hearing the gunshot, our guards came by minutes later, but they were too late.

I remember when Mom died, the world ended, but death was kinder to her.

Dante was a different story. Someone ended his life.

I described Dante’s killer in every way I possibly could, but no one has been able to find him. Describing a dark-haired Italian man who looked to be in his mid to late fifties with a snake tattooed on his hand is not much of a description. Dad looked for anybody with the fucking tattoo that matched that description, but it’s a common tattoo.

Only I could identify him because I saw his face. That’s the key.

The whole occurrence looked like two separate matters—whatever issue Dante had with Peter and the shooting. But I think the issue was linked to the shooting.

Dante went out into the woods looking for Peter, but there was no sign of him.

Why would he go out there calling for Peter if he didn’t think he was going to be there?

The shooting also took place on our side of the woods, not the public path. I believe those men were on our side for a reason.

So what I thought all these years was that Peter set the whole thing up and lured my brother into a trap.

That is the thing that haunts me daily, and I can’t prove it.

Now I’m faced with this. I’m to marry the same man I hate so much.

The sun comes up, and with it, Cordelia returns to the room to check on me.

She’s also made breakfast or probably ordered it in.

There’s an assortment of pastries and bagels too neat looking for anything she made. Angela, her maid, also never starts work this early.

She pushes her hair over her shoulder and sets the tray down on the nightstand.

I sit up and pull the sheet closer to my chest. I’m wearing one of my high school t-shirts and a pair of shorts. It was the first thing I grabbed last night.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Like shit.”

“I ordered this in from the bakery. I didn’t realize they opened this early or took orders. I just got back with them, and I drove like a madwoman, so the pastries should still be warm.”

“You went?”

Cordelia thinks it’s an abomination for anybody to be on the street at this hour. It’s barely six.

“You love croissants. Remember your mom used to have them ready every Saturday I’d spend with you guys? You loved it, so I thought it would cheer you up.”

I offer a weak smile. “It has.”

“I’m glad.”

From the uneasy look in her eyes, I can tell that she’s still not thrilled about the conversation she had with my father.

Not wanting to jump straight into that when she’s done her best to cheer me up, I eat two croissants making me feel more alert.

I didn’t feel hungry, but maybe I was.

“What did Dad say, Cordelia?” I finally ask.

She blows out a ragged breath. “Everything to disappoint me. He said he would deal with Peter and have a word with him, but that’s it. What Peter did should be enough to call off the wedding, but I knew it wouldn’t.”

My damn heart sinks even though I knew she was going to say something like this. My fucking heart actually hurts worse than my face, and I want to scream.

“So he doesn’t care? Peter almost raped me, and my father doesn’t care?”

“I don’t think it’s that. He cares, but like everything else, he has his own rules. He thinks that roughing Peter up a bit will fix the problem. He doesn’t get why I suggested calling off the wedding.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Cordelia. I have to leave.”

She holds my gaze. “You know if you leave, you can’t come back, right?”

I nod slowly. “I do know that. Last night just made me realize everything I thought about Peter was right, so what else is true? I can’t forget that night Dante was murdered, Cordelia, and I can’t be linked to that man in any way.”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure you knew what leaving meant. I’ve been thinking too, and I don’t want this for you. The shitty thing about it is, even if your father were to choose someone else, all the men who work for him are like Peter. There’s not one among the batch who I could consider good. He won’t allow you to marry anybody he doesn’t trust to eventually take over the entire empire. That’s the way it works in our world.”

“I know. I need to leave soon, Cordelia.” The one good thing to come from the shit with Peter is being able to talk to her about my plans. I would have felt terrible to disappear on her watch and leave her in the lurch.

This way, she can see all the reasons why I need to leave.

“You’re sure you’re serious?”

“Yes. I’d do anything to get the chance to leave. Cordelia, from what you’re saying to me, it’s not just Peter I have to escape from. It’s Dad too.”

“Exactly. That’s exactly where I’m going with this. Your father loves you. He does. But we live in this archaic world where daughters are sold to men for business marriages and where fathers think they know best when it comes to love. I’m fortunate that never happened to me, and I have what I have. But even with me, there’s a limit. My life can change. All I have is the house and a small trust fund my dad left me. When you leave, you’re turning your back on a legacy of both your parents.”

Mom’s business.She’s including Mom’s business which is part of my dream.

If I leave, I’ll be broke, and I’ll have to start from scratch. I’ll have to find work and save to put myself through college, and that might take years.

But, at least I’ll be free and safe.

“I still want to leave. I can’t live my life in fear and feeling trapped.”

“Okay.” She nods. “I’ll see what I can do to help you.”

My lips part. “You’ll help me?”

“Yes, but of course, this is going to be a secret between us until death.”

“Yes, that goes without question.”

“Okay. Give me until tonight to brainstorm. Evie, you’re going to be traveling a dangerous path, and you might meet worse men than Peter. You need to be prepared for that. You might also need to be prepared to do things you wouldn’t normally want to do. Your father is a very powerful man, so to do this, we’re going to have to be exceptionally clever about it.”

“I understand.”

* * *

Cordelia spent the day away.

Feeling some reprieve from the situation and relief that I was getting help, I went to sleep after she left.

I woke an hour ago and decided to sit by the poolside where I did some sketches for my portfolio.

I managed a few drawings before I heard her car pull back into the drive.

It’s now eight at night, and I was just starting to worry about her. I’m guessing she probably had to go to a few places today since she left so early. I feel guilty for it, but Cordelia always comes through when she has a plan.

Her heels click against the concrete as she makes her way to me, and I rise when she approaches and her.

She sets her little Prada purse down on the table next to my sketch pad, and worry fills me when she glances around the place to make sure no one is listening.

Cordelia trusts her guards with everything, mostly because she’s always getting up to no good and would rather tell them what she’s doing rather than give them a reason to stop her. Or rather, give them a reason to lose their jobs if either my dad or her mother finds out.

The fact that she has to check we’re alone means this really is a secret we have to keep to the death.

“What, Cordelia? You’re worrying me.” I bring my hands together and try to calm my racing heart.

“Let’s sit.” She motions to the chair I’d just rose from.

I sit, and she lowers opposite me. “Okay. Let me start by saying of all the things I’ve done, this is by far the most dangerous because not only will it piss your father off in the worse way possible if he finds out, it will damage his name and embarrass him to no end. That’s if you follow through on what I have planned. On the way back here, I contemplated telling you. I almost didn’t. I was going to lie to you and tell you we’d have to find some other way, but then I realized if I were you and I had to marry a man who beat me, it would be enough for me to do anything to escape. That is why I’m going to share my idea with you.”

“Oh, Cordelia, thank you. But it sounds like it’s going to be dangerous.”

“Because it is. It is, Evie.” She blows out a staggered breath. “I found a guy who can help. He’s the best of the worst type of character imaginable. Most of what we’re going to pay him will be for his silence. He can get you a legit fake passport with a biometric chip that will accept whatever name we give you.”

My bottom lip drops. “Really?”

“Yes.”

That sounds like something from some spy film. “Jesus.”

“Evie, running from your father is going to take something like this. He lost Dante, and that nearly made him go crazy. How do you think he feels knowing for all his power he still hasn’t got the guy who killed his son?”

She holds my gaze, and I feel awful for thinking of leaving him. “I know it tears him apart.”

“It does, and it will when you go too. Last night, when I spoke to him, I could tell he was adamant that he could magically fix the situation with a word to Peter. He’s not thinking that any normal person wouldn’t lay a finger on you because of whose daughter you are. He’s completely overlooked the aspect that he’s given Peter so much power.”

She’s right. That’s exactly it. This is the first run-in I’ve had with Peter, and it wouldn’t be the last. It was clear, too any further encounters would see him issuing so much more violence my way, and he wouldn’t think twice about hurting me because he’s not scared of Dad the way everyone else is. He’s more scared about what he could lose. At the same time, he thinks he’s untouchable because my father values him.

“That’s the passport sorted. My guy can also get you to France. I suggested France because it might be easier to get there. Obviously, Italy is out of the question.”

“Yes, it is.”

“The problem is the money. We’re going to need to come up with two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

My lungs burn with the breath I’m holding. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That’s pocket change to my father. Me though? No.

Dad gives me a monthly allowance of two grand. If I need anything more, he buys it for me.

Cordelia is the only person I go out with, and her friends are my friends, but because I don’t live in the mall the way they do, I probably have around ten to fifteen thousand dollars in there. My last big spend was to buy material and stones for my dress.

Fifteen thousand isn’t anything close to what I need.

“Jesus Christ, Cordelia,” I choke out.

“And, that’s just to pay the man to get everything done. You’re going to need money to live on when you get to France as well. I can help you with that. I’d like to think that we’d stay in touch somehow.”

“Of course we will.” I nod. “I have fifteen thousand.”

“And I have fifty. I can give you fifty.”

“My God, Cordelia, that’s too much. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t, I offered. That’s from my savings account. The rest of my money is in my trust fund. I could get the lawyers to maybe take another fifty, but that’s going to be suspicious. I just put the deposit on a condo in Colorado, so if I’m asked, or your dad looks into my accounts, I can say the money went toward that in some way.”

“That’s more than I can ask for.”

“Don’t worry about that part. It’s a drop in the bucket. Of course, I couldn’t exactly ask around and compare prices, so this guy I got is my best bet. He knows it’s death if your father finds out he helped you.”

I nod, understanding.

“So now we need the rest of money. I tried to borrow it from one of my friends, but she didn’t have it. Then I realized I couldn’t ask around because word of me begging for money would spread. That’s when I got the idea that could ruin your father’s name. And you might hate me for even suggesting it because I hate myself for coming up with the idea.”

“What is it?”

She brings a weary hand to her head. “It’s something I did once, but it wasn’t for the money. It was because of the guy I was into.”

“Cordelia, tell me what it is.” I’m dying to know.

“The virgin auction.” She grits her teeth.

My eyes bulge, and instantly I know why such a thing could ruin Dad’s name. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I’d entered an auction like that.

“Fuck. I didn’t even know there was such a thing.” My voice quivers.

“Yes. The men tend to want you on a thirty-day contract of sorts. That’s … how I lost my virginity.”

“What? You entered an auction?”

“I did.” She sighs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because he was a lot older.”

“How much older?”

“Evie, let’s not go there. My crazy lifestyle is nothing new. Neither are the things I’m into or the guys I’m into. But, I only entered because I knew he’d win me.”

I’d try to ask more about this guy of hers if we weren’t talking about this auction in relation to me.

A virgin auction.

Can I do it?

What would I need to do?

Wait, I’m considering it. I’m actually considering it, which means I truly am desperate.

I’ve reached that level of desperation where I’d do anything, even that—sell my body. Sell my virginity.

I’m so lightheaded I have to stand. I know that should be the other way around where I sit, but I feel like I might implode if I do.

It’s not just selling my body. It’s being someone’s whore.

When I look back to Cordelia, I can see she must know what I’m thinking.

It’s different for me. She knew the guy who would win her. She had sex and lost her virginity to someone she knew. I’d be little more than a prostitute.

“My bids went up to two hundred grand. My guy paid half a million for me,” she informs me, and my blood freezes in my veins. “That’s the kind of money you get for an auction like that. Men are men, and they have fantasies of being with a virgin so they can break you in and teach you to please them. That’s what they pay for. If you’re willing to do whatever they want, they pay.”

“My God. They really pay that much?”

“And more. These are billionaires. A million is small change to men like that.”

Of course. “My head is spinning.”

“That’s understandable. If you’re thinking about it, you have to think fast. The next one is on Friday.”

“This Friday? That’s really soon.”

“The sooner, the better, Evie, if you’re going to do it.”

I nod. “You’re right.”

“I have a contact who can get you in. Thank fuck. This just might be the one time your father’s overbearing nature of hiding you from the world might work to your advantage. Nobody will know your face there.” She opens her palms. “We can change your surname, and you can use this address for your contact details.”

“Thank you for thinking about all of this for me. I wouldn’t have known what to do other than run.”

“You can’t run like that from a man like your father. I mean, you could try, but you wouldn’t get very far.”

“No.”

“This could work, and it would be perfect timing too. The only weekend you’d have to worry about is the engagement party. Your father will be back for that, then gone again. One month could get you the money you need, and you could be gone before your father returns to plan for the wedding. It’s just for you to think about it.”

Think?

What is the point of thinking when I already know this is my only chance.

“I’ll do it, Cordelia,” I say, bringing my trembling hands together. “I’ll do it.”