A Deal With The Devil

chapter 1-Clara

"CLARAAAAA!"

That shrill voice belongs to my sister who undoubtedly wants me to brush her hair again. You would think that being the daughter of a billionaire would mean that me and my sister would have our own staff to cater to our every whim. My sister definitely has someone who caters to her every whim and that's me.

I got out of bed. I say bed but in actuality it was a tatty mattress that laid on the floor. The sheets are grey and almost worn to pieces. spoiler alert, they didn't start out grey. I pulled on my leggings and jumper.

Before my sister could shout for me again I knocked on her door and entered when she answered. She turned to me while a scowl plastered on her face.

Me and my sister look nothing alike. She has blond hair with soft waves and bright blue eyes. She has full lips but those were a result of lip filler. Her figure mimicked that of a Victoria secret model.

I differed from her, I had a wild mane of brown tight curls that travelled down to my hips. My eyes were a shining green. I only stood at 5'3 and my bones jutted out.

"How can I help Miss Grace?" I bowed my head slightly because god forbid I look her way.

" You took your time, you are so useless. Honestly it's pathetic that we are sisters" Grace snapped. She stood up and started walking towards me. I know what's coming now so I prepare myself as her hand comes in contact with my face but it didn't stop my head snapping to the side.

My dad walked into the room at that second and didn't take a second glance in my direction. In his mind he thought I deserved it. As he came to stand still next to my sister he got a cigar out of his pocket and a lighter out of the other. I flinched at the dancing flame. He brought the lit cigar to his mouth and dragged a puff. As he lowered it again he looked at me.

"In a week's time you are to be married" My dad dismissively said to me "You won't embarrass me or you will regret it"

He can't be serious. This is not happening. I'm not having him sell me off to a mystery person. They might be a super old man who needs a little helper to keep it up.

"I'm not doing it, no way in hell!" I stamped my foot in emphasis " Please dad don't make me do this."

His hand came up to my throat and squeezed. My feet were no longer touching the ground. I tried to look down at my father and all I saw was his raging eyes staring into my soul. He was pulling it apart piece by piece. As my vision was darkening at the edges my father threw me onto the floor. My head hit a table corner and I could already feel the red liquid spilling down my scalp.

My father and sister walked out of the room. My sister laughed and my father looked at me like I was the dirt on his boots.

I dragged myself up and stood up. The room spun, I clutched onto a chair to keep myself from falling. I left the room to go back to my room to my first aid kit.