Serpent

My target was the older gentleman, standing to the side of the ballroom looking uncomfortable. He was a senator that was standing in the way of Father’s election, publicly speaking out against Father and generally being a thorn in Father’s side. However, it wasn't as simple as getting rid of him, that would be too suspicious and would put a stain on Father’s campaign. So Father sent me to drag him through the mud. Those who knew, knew better than to entangle themselves with Rhory Ellis’s daughters. I was the oldest of his three daughters and I had two older brothers that Father proudly proclaimed his pride and joys, able to take over the family business and follow in his political footsteps. He found other ways to make use of his daughters. I placed my wine glass on a passing tray before I slowly meandered my way around the room, slowly making my way in his direction, watching him through my lashes and making my glances more and more obvious the closer to him that I got. Senator Charles wasn't the upstanding pillar of justice that everyone believed he was. Zyran had been the one to spot him. Senator Charles had a naughty secret: He was an insatiable ladies man. Zyran primarily ran the clubs that funded Father’s campaign and cleaned Faolan’s dirty money. According to Zyran, Senator Charles couldn't settle on one girl, flitting from one pretty girl to the next in the club and generously spreading his wealth between them. It wasn't long before Father had handed me a dossier with his information and instructed me to handle it. It took less time than I thought for the Senator to notice me. Most of the women here were gentle-bred ladies, or ladies who were more interested in watching their own husbands and making sure their eyes didn't wander to be interested in older, lonely, Senators. It helped that Father had arranged for my outfit tonight. It was a sleek silk dress done in black and red. The top was sleeveless and opened in a daring ‘V’ that was just barely socially acceptable with glimpses of my bare breasts when I turned just right. A combination of choker and dangling rubies drew attention to my chest and the blood-red belt that cinched my waist tightly, showing off my hourglass figure. There were slits in both sides of the dress, exposing my smooth, thick thighs. With every step I took my blood-red heels clicked softly on the tile floor. The dress was held up by a set of chains that draped over my exposed back and drew attention to the low cut of my dress that was just barely socially appropriate. Senator Charles' eyes were riveted as I glanced over and caught his gaze for a moment before ducking my head and turning away a small smile on my lips before I glanced at him again watching as a large smile split his face. God, it was too easy to entice men like him, men of power always tripped over themselves to possess a pretty woman, thinking it was their right. I suppose it made it easier to please Father at least, but it disgusted me what I had to do to keep Father happy. “Hello there young lady,” the Senator’s voice was gruff behind me and I schooled my features into an innocent look as I turned to him and batted my eyelashes at him. “Oh hello!” I gushed, ducking my head a bit as I pretended to try and hide a small smile. The Senator wasn't the worst target I’ve had over the years. He was tall, his hair white and receeding but his body still seemed firm, holding on to the muscles of his youth with desperate fingers. His face was round and fat, a bushy mustache and beard covering the lower half of his face with only his thick lips sticking out; his deep green eyes roamed my body with a disgusting hunger that made me want to shudder and cover myself like a nun, but I had a role to play. “Are you here with someone young lady?” he asked, his hand, coming out to rest on my waist his grip firm as if he expected me to run away, his fingers rubbing on my waist and dipping towards my ass. His gaze wasn't even on me, but rather his head was tilted to see my breast better while I was still clothed. It disgusted me deep down to encourage this man, to know that my actions would just serve as justification for him for later, that he would live the rest of his, hopefully short, life believing he was entitled to treat women like this. I shook my head, pretending not to see how distracted he was, as I twirled a strand of hair around my finger. “I’m not actually supposed to be here,” I confessed in a whisper. “I just wanted to rub shoulders with important people for a bit.” It wasn't a complete lie, Father hadn't recieved an invitation to this particular charity ball, so some money had to change hands in order for me to be here, but I had attended enough of these that no one would question my prescence here, although usually I attended on the arm of one of my older brothers, usually Zyran. “What’s this?” the Senator actually looked up, his eyes locking with mine, and he blinked in shock, as if he was just now noticing my facial features before a smile crossed his face. “A naughty young lady then, sneaking into a charity ball like this,” he said, eyeing my dress. I suppose that’s why Father chose this dress for me. I didn't look like I belonged here, not enough for someone to say something or for the proprietor to toss me out; but enough for a man who needed reassurance that I wouldn't be missed and there would be no repercussions from taking me home, to be assured. Of course, thinking that there would be no repercussions would be his mistake, but that wouldn't come about until much later. Father liked to do the dramatic grand reveal himself. “Are you going to make me leave, sir?” I asked, pouting up at him, shifting from foot to foot, as if I was actually nervous watching as his eyes became enraptured by my swinging breasts. “How about this, my dear,” he offered, licking his lips. “You can be my date for the evening. The ball is coming to a close soon, and I get terribly lonely by myself in my hotel suite.” Hook, line, and sinker. Faolan had already bugged the Senator’s room. Of course, by the end of the night there would be photos and videos of the two of us that Father could use, after a bit of an altercation, of course. “Really? I’ve never seen a suite,” I whispered, giggling as I forced myself to teasingly rub his chest and blink my eyes up at him, as if I was trying to entice him, even going so far as to lower my voice to a husky purr. “Maybe, we can go back to your suite now, and I can keep you company for a while, since the party is ending.” I stepped closer to him until our bodies were practically touching his hands wrapped around my waist, barely maintaining a presentable image to those who wandered past us. His thumbs slipped inside my dress, rubbing circles just under the fabric while his fingers stretched out toying with the edge of my dress just above my ass, and I knew if his fingers were just a bit longer they would be under my dress as well. “How kind of you to keep me company, young lady,” he said, leaning down, and I quickly looked away to hide my grimace as his tongue came out to lick my neck, the wet and sticky feeling making me want to scrub my skin raw. “Let’s head upstairs then.” I fixed a smile on my face as he straightened up before he offered his hand to me. I felt like my face was made of stone as I took his hand and he turned to lead me out of the room and to the hotel rooms that had been set aside for the guests upstairs. I glanced over as I felt a pair of eyes on me. It wasn't unusual for eyes to be on me, especially on nights when I was working like this, but this gaze was different. This gaze was like ice sliding down my spine, like a cool touch that was meant to tease more than it was meant to satisfy. My eyes got stuck on a pair of grey ones, and it was like time stopped for half a second. He wanted me. I knew that, without a shadow of a doubt in my mind, his grey gaze riveted me, his grip on his glass firm. But his eyes didn't scan my body like it belonged to him, they didn't scan my body at all, they remained glued to mine. His gaze like ice that both chilled me and excited me, sending lightning zinging through me to warm the places his gaze had cooled. Then the moment was gone, and I was once again focused on the Senator who was eagerly dragging me along. I didn't say anything as I exited the hotel room an hour later, my gaze on the floor as Faolan waited for me, a cigar hanging from his fingers as he occasionally puffed on it. Faolan looked more like Mother, then he did Father. That’s why, although he was the older son, Zyran was the one in the public eye and Faolan ran the criminal side of things. Faolan was tall and broad, like a football linebacker. His muscles weren't just for show either, he enjoyed being both boss and enforcer when he needed to be. Faolan had an olive skin tone with dark hair that he slicked back and shaved the sides off. His deep blue eyes were Father’s, as well as the high cheekbones and square jaw. Faolan’s eyes had always unnerved me, though they were dead. Faolan’s blue eyes were dead with no light or life inside them, just a swirling darkness that demanded blood and was barely controlled by Father. I was terrified of what would happen when Father finally died and could no longer control him. “Jobs done?” Faolan’s voice was hoarse from years of smoking as he reached around me to quietly close the door to the Senator’s room. “Don't insult me,” I huffed, looking away feeling dirty like I always did when one of my brothers came to pick me up after a night of doing Father’s dirty work. “What’s wrong sis? Didn’t enjoy it?” Faolan’s voice was flat as he casually leaned against the wall outside the Senator’s room, puffing on his cigar, his dead eyes focused on me. I don't know why Faolan had decided to do this. When Zyran came to get me, he always seemed just as disgusted as I was to be in the situation, and he always quickly ushered me out. Perhaps he was also worried he would be caught out with me, and it would anger Father. Faolan, however, had started to linger when it was his turn to come and fetch me, it made my skin crawl. He had also begun to ask questions about the encounters as if he took pleasure in making me squirm, and maybe he did. I had long since stopped trying to figure out what happened in Faolan’s mind. “Men like him aren't interested in making sure I enjoy it,” I said before glancing back at the door and crossing my arms over my chest. “We should go, in case he wakes up.” Faolan shrugged. “What does it matter if he wakes up? Father has the pictures and video anyway, one of his tech guys is editing them as we speak. The damage is already done.” Faolan’s eyes never left me as he took long drags on his cigar and I noticed his knuckles were swollen, another fight. “Father will be angry if we cause a scene,” I pointed out, dread filling my stomach at the thought of Father’s anger. Father was one of those men who had a switch. When it was switched on, he was the calm, emotionless, charismatic man that did wonders in the political scene. When it was switched off, he was a demon intent on causing the most pain and the most terror he possibly could. The switch was off for only a short time, before it was turned back on but he did plenty in that short time to justify my fear. There was no in between, not for Father. Faolan lingered, seemingly in no rush to leave, and I wondered if I was going to get caught up in yet another squabble between Faolan and Father. Every once in a while, Faolan got a wild hair up his ass and decided to test Father’s limits. I wasn't sure if he enjoyed the reaction or if it was all about the thrill of seeing how far he could push things. Either way, whenever Faolan and Father disputed my sisters and I always ended up caught in the middle and receiving the worst punishments because of it. Just as I was going to say something else to try and prompt him into movement, he pushed off the wall, his attention finally drifting as he wandered down the hall and I followed him without another word. We didn't walk far, just a bit down the hall before he opened one of the doors. Father and Zyran were in the main room as I entered and Faolan closed the door behind me. Father was standing over a smaller man who was staring at a screen set up, and a quick glance showed my image entangled with the Senators all over the screens. Thankfully, they weren't editing the videos at this time, just the photos. Father was a tall and slim man, and he wore suits to make him seem smaller, not frail, but like he wasn't a threat. It was all for publicity, of course. Father was plenty muscular under his suits and his hits still carried plenty of weight to do lots of damage. His salt and pepper hair was styled as if he was about to make a public appearance soon, his mud brown eyes focused and blank as his pale skin seemed to shine from the screen’s lights. His cane rested against the desk as his large hand gripped the back of the tech guy's chair. The cane was mostly for show too. He leaned on it heavily for public appearances and playing up the war wound he got in the military. The solid wood could do some damage too, if he was in the mood to use it. “Good work Serpent,” Father’s voice was flat, and he didn’t once glance in my direction. I couldn't even remember the last time he had used my real name and not the nickname I had earned doing his dirty work. “Father, your manager, says that he has an opportunity for you to make a public appearance in Washington on Thursday, maybe snap some photos of you shaking hands with the president,” Zyran’s voice called out, not as deep as Father’s but not as hoarse as Faolan’s. Zyran was Father’s carbon copy, his golden child. Zyran was tall and slim, pale with slightly lighter brown eyes and high cheekbones. His dark hair was slicked back as well and pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Zyran wasn't like Father or Faolan though. He didn't possess the darkness that swirled in both of them. That wasn't to say that he was clean. None of his father’s children were clean. I had watched Zyran beat a woman to death on Father’s orders, but unlike Father or Faolan, who might have enjoyed letting out the violence and the blood that spilled because of it, Zyran was detached. Zyran did the things ordered for him because he was ordered to do so, and he didn't miss a wink of sleep at night. “Handle it, Zyran,” Father said, shooting his golden child a glance before addressing me. “Clean up and dress in something appropriate. We will deal with the Senator in two hours.” Father didn't have to say what would happen if I wasn't ready to go then, and so I didn't hesitate as dropped my heels on the floor and I strode past my brothers as I walked down the suite hall to the large bathroom. I wasn't surprised to see my sisters waiting for me in the bathroom with the tub already filling and the shower running. This had become a sort of routine once my sisters were old enough to realize what it was that Father asked me to do when he gave me a task. Sirelle stepped forward, holding out a scrub brush to me. “It’s not as rough as the ones we have at home, but it will take off a few layers of skin,” she offered, her melodic voice echoeing in the cavernous room. Mother had always said Sirelle had a singer’s voice and maybe if she had been born in another family she might have made it big. Might have become one of those names the tabloids print bullshit about as her songs play on the radio. Instead, she was born Sirelle Ellis. Sirelle was Father’s ‘Chameleon,’ his little spy, because while she had a voice to make angels weep, she had a plain and forgettable face which made it easy to change the way she looked with just a bit of makeup. Sirelle was average height with olive-toned skin and mud brown eyes, her hair was dirty blonde like our mother’s with a heart-shaped face. At first, Father wanted to make her another ‘Serpent’ like me, but unlike me, Sirelle barely had any feminine assets to speak of. Small, barely there A cup breasts, a rectangular shape that made her waist nearly non-existant and a flat ass. So she became his ‘Chameleon’, the one who could slip in and out of parties or meetings without anyone remembering that she had been there in the first place, changing her appearance from one look to another with ease. I took the brush from Sirelle without comment as Idelisa stepped forward and stripped my dress off me silently before she started to take off my accessories, and Sirelle began to gently wipe off my make-up. Idelisa was the youngest of us, the baby, and also the most unfortunate. Idelisa was Father’s ‘Scorpion.’ One of Father’s punishments when Idelisa was a child got out of hand. Father’s dogs had torn into her like she was their favorite piece of meat. She had horrible scars all over her body, including her face. The damage had been so bad that Idelisa was now mute, her vocal cords irreparably damaged. Sirelle and I had to fight for Idelisa after the incident as Father had declared her useless and had wanted to ‘be rid of her.’ I was the one who suggested she become Father’s ‘Scorpion’ and the guilt of that will always eat at me. Father had punished Sirelle and I severely for speaking out against him, but he had ultimately accepted my suggestion and made Idelisa his ‘Scorpion,’ his silent assassin. Idelisa was small and thin, her olive skin tone dull from lack of exposure to sunlight. Her hair was a rusty brown and was extremely short, a concession on Father’s part, although he would make her shave her head the next time he needed her. She had inherited her father’s high cheekbones and Mother’s pear-shaped figure with a small chest and a large ass. “No time for the bath, Father wants to gloat,” I said, looking at the tub longingly. Idelisa moved without sound and turned the tap off; pulling the plug and draining the tub. “We will get some clothes ready for you,” Sirelle said softly before she and Idelisa left the bathroom. I stood silently in the middle of the bathroom for a few minutes, the sound of the shower white noise as I allowed the chaos inside me to overflow. Tears streaked silently down my face, unending rivers that fell and made my body jolt as it hit my chest and made a soft plat noise as it hit the floor. My body trembled like I was freezing even though it was warm in the bathroom, shudders wracking my body hard enough that I needed to sit down before I fell over. Father wouldn't take it well if I injured myself by falling over. My skin felt like I had dozens of bugs crawling on me. I could remember every touch the Senator laid on me, and they replayed in my mind, leaving me feeling disgusted and vulnerable, but I didn't have the energy to move just yet. A soft knock on the door a while later propelled me up and into the shower, my limp hand still somehow holding onto the scrub brush. This part would hurt, I knew it would, it did every time. I lathered the scrub brush and began to scrub, and once I started, I couldn't stop. I sobbed, the sound drowned out by the running water of the shower as I scrubbed every inch of my body raw, desperate for the feeling of hands grabbing, pinching, pulling, and poking to go away. Phantom hands reached for me, the disgusting sensation of tongues and mouths tormented me as I scrubbed and sobbed. I was tired, I was tired of being my father’s w***e, I never wanted another man to touch me again, I wanted to die. A soft tapping on the shower panel pulled me out of my head and the sobs quieted. The warm water burned as it touched my raw skin. Idelisa and Sirelle waited for me outside the shower as I felt a numbness spread from my chest until I felt nothing at all. I stepped out of the shower as Idelisa reached in and turned off the water and Sirelle stood with a towel prepared to dry me off. We moved like clockwork, silent in the bathroom other than the occasional drip sound as Sirelle dried me and Idelisa helped me to dress before they sat me in front of the mirror so they could do my make-up. My expression was blank as I stared at myself in the mirror. My pale skin tone was more pink than it was supposed to be due to my intense scrubbing, although it was less pink than it normally was if I used the scrub brush at home. My eyes were a deep green, but right now they were dull, empty. Like a doll that was made to look pretty but wasn't allowed to live. I would have to fix that before Father saw. My high cheekbones looked sharp in the light as Idelisa did my make-up, my cupids bow lips looked thin, I would need to bite them to plump them up before Father saw me. My wavy chocolate brown hair hung limp, pulled down by the weight of the water, but Sirelle was quickly fixing that with a blow-drier. I was a pretty little doll. A pretty, empty, little doll that Father dressed up and sent out at his whim.