Knotted By My Hockey Stepbrother My Ex Left Me For

Chapter 7

CADY

I barely left my room. I didn't want to set eyes on that sexy beast.

My mind dwelt with thoughts of last night, accompanied with the pain kneading my knees and other parts of my body when a sharp knock shattered the quiet. Three loud, impatient strikes against the door.

I sat up quickly, heart jumping into my throat. “Who is it?”

No immediate answer came.

I slipped my feet into the soft, furry slippers and padded toward the sink to splash cold water on my face, hoping it would clear the fog in my head.

The knocking returned, harder this time, more demanding.

“Will you come out here or else?” The voice belonged to an older woman. Sharp. Brute. Nothing like my mother’s gentle tone.

I hurried to the door and opened it.

The chief maid stood on the threshold. Late fifties. Claire. Her face was as cold as ice. I had heard the other servants whisper about her during my first day in this villa. She had been on leave, but now she had returned, and her eyes narrowed the instant they landed on me.

“What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the sudden tightness in my chest.

She reached out, seizing my wrist, yanking me into the hallway with surprising strength for her age. “A new maid. Haha. Your mother is just a mistress. She has no say in the affairs of this villa.”

I yanked off her in fury. “No….” Disgust fell over me. I'd speculated being a maid but not from a bully. I'd thought of an official letter or something.

Claire leaned in close, her breath sour and hot against my face. “Lady Camilla commands you to serve her son for this holiday season. The same way your mother serves her husband. You both should know your place. Mistress and mistress’s daughter. Shitty commoners.”

My stomach dropped so fast I felt dizzy. “What?”

She smirked, grip tightening until it hurt. “Didn’t you hear me? Are you deaf?”

I had asked the friendlier maids about the lifestyle here when I first arrived. They had spoken of Claire in hushed tones, warning me to stay out of her way. I should have paid closer attention to her name.

“But I didn’t come here as a slave,” I protested, trying to pull my wrist free upon hearing her name. Getting such a command from her meant direct grudge, it wasn't her job but the royal chief of staff to appoint maids.

Claire said nothing. Just that same cold smirk. Then she pulled me forward, dragging me down the corridor even as I attempted to dig my heels into the marble.

I glanced down at myself. The red lacy nightgown barely reached mid-thigh. No bra. No panties.

“Please,” I begged, voice cracking. “Look at what I’m wearing.”

She smacked my bare ass. Hard. The sound echoed down the hall.

“Come with me!”

She dragged me through dim corridors I had not yet explored. The air grew colder. The halls, narrower and less ornate. Finally we reached a windowless room. Concrete floor. Dusty door. It smelled of neglect, old stone, and faint mildew.

Claire shoved me inside. I fell hard, knees and palms slapping the unforgiving floor.

“No baby girl princess treatment here,” she spat. “The daughter of a mistress ought to be treated as a slave.”

She spat in my face. Turned to leave.

I sat up slowly. Body numb. Fury rose in my throat like bile. “What did you just do?”

A deep voice cut through the darkness like a blade. “I asked you to bring her to me. Not to throw her on the concrete floor. Not to spit on her. How dare you treat my stepsister like that?”

Friction rushed against my core and legs. Damon?

He scolded her? Because of me?

It was unbelievable at that very moment.

Light streamed in as a window creaked open somewhere behind me. He stood there.

Shirtless. Ten-pack abs flexing with every controlled breath. Chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. A black belt dangled loosely from his hand.

I shivered. The earlier thrill was gone. I was now wondering what he was doing with the belt.

Claire dropped to her knees instantly. “Sir, I thought…”

His hand cracked across her cheek with a sound like thunder. She fell sideways. He dragged her back up by the hair. The belt whipped through the air. Landed across her back with a sickening snap.

I flinched hard, pinching my skin so hard I nearly wounded myself.

He turned to me. Veins bulging in his neck and forearms. “What? You want me to stop? Take her punishment instead?” A sarcastic smirk ran across his lips, I flinched avoiding those flirty eyes that followed.

“Urgh?” He barked. I shook my head frantically, terror flooding every nerve.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

He stepped forward and grabbed my chin. Jacked my face upward. Rougher than Claire had been. My nightgown slipped further. One breast popped free completely. n****e hard from the cold air and fear.

“Stand still,” he ordered when I tried to cover myself.

He pressed my jaw harder, forcing eye contact. “Are you sorry for your mother stealing my father’s affection from my mom? Are you sorry for walking in here dressed like a w***e at our meeting here?”

“Trying to seduce me?”

Anger flared through the fear, hot and bright. “You can punish me. I’ll do anything.” Something to cut off the flirting.

He chuckled. Dark. Dangerous. The sound vibrated through my bones.

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.

“Claire,” he said without looking at her. “Get up and leave. Now.”

She scrambled to her feet and fled. The door slammed behind her with finality.

Damon circled me slowly, boots echoing on the concrete. “On your knees.”

I dropped without hesitation.

He brandished the belt but did not strike. Instead he dragged the leather lightly across my shoulder, down my arm, teasing the exposed skin.

A knock echoed through the room. A servant’s voice from the other side. “Mr. Damon, your father wishes to see you again.”

Damon muttered something under his breath, low and frustrated. “Go. I’m coming.”

He kicked my side lightly, not hard enough to bruise but enough to make me gasp. “Up. Get out.”

I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door.

“Hey!”

I froze mid-step.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, b***h. You're my personal slave. My enemy released to me on a platter of gold.” And I saw his face twitch with a wicked grin.

I knew he would return.

And when he did, the torment would begin again.

Only now I understood that every touch, every word, every denial was part of something larger.

Something I was trapped inside.

And I had no idea how to escape.