Shiver Through Burn

Chapter 2

I smiled, a tight, humorless smile. "Thank you. Now get out."

I turned my back to him, trying to shake off the foul taste of his presence still lingering on my skin. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, the remnants of fear and disgust mixing into something more bitter than any wine.

As I began to clean the broken glass from the floor, the sharp edges biting into my fingers, I couldn’t shake the weight of what had just happened. I had known how that old man had been looking at me for years. But I had never imagined he’d actually cross the line. He had always prided himself on being a well-respected family man with his five daughters. It had all been a perfect facade.

'What did I expect anyway?'

I sighed, throwing the pieces of glass into the trash, as if I could dispose of the memory with them. But deep down, I knew this moment would never truly leave me.

I wiped my hands on the back of my dress and headed upstairs. Each step felt like an anchor, pulling me deeper into a sea of unease. The music from downstairs was a blur, unable to drown out the storm of emotions brewing inside me.

Passing through the hallways, I spotted Mr. Hamilton again, his face flushed with anger as he stood talking to the governer. I knew exactly what story he was spinning—probably how I had 'humiliated' him.

What a crybaby.

I caught Sebastian’s gaze. His eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl, sending a chill down my spine. But I refused to flinch. I quickly turned away, hiding my emotions behind the cold, practiced smile I had perfected over the years. Raising my glass to my lips, I tried to swallow down the bitterness of the wine—though it barely compared to the bitterness I was feeling inside.

I spotted Sorren by the door, greeting the departing guests with his usual charm. I joined him, offering my own rehearsed pleasantries, my hands moving mechanically as I handed out the ‘gratitude gifts’ to the guests as they left.

"When will this end?" Sorren muttered, already frustrated but keeping his cool.

"It looks like someone’s getting tired already," I teased, raising an eyebrow as I smirked.

"Shut up," he shot back, his glare making me laugh, which only served to irritate him further.

It took a while for all the guests to leave, and just when I thought it might never end, the last ones finally made their exit—the De Chavels.

As always, Lucerio was beside them, and I could feel his presence like a shadow I couldn’t escape. But I didn’t move. I ignored him, my focus remaining on the conversation between the men.

“Sebastian, we must thank you for your hospitality tonight,” Mr. De Chavel said, his voice deep and controlled, like a seasoned judge. He extended his hand to my father, who shook it firmly.

"Always a pleasure, Lorenzo," Sebastian replied, his smile colder than I had ever seen.

"The ties between our families go back a long way. I’m sure Soreia and Lucerio will continue the tradition."

I saw how Lucerio’s lips curved into a smug smile.

"Guess who will be spending their life together," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. I pretended to smile, my gaze sharp as I glared at him.

As the men continued shaking hands, Mrs. De Chavel leaned toward Margarita, flashing her a gracious smile.

"Margarita, you’ve raised such a poised young woman," she said, her eyes briefly scanning me. "If the day ever comes, I know she’ll make a fine lady of the house—just like you."

Margarita chuckled softly, almost proud. "Oh, she will. I’ll make sure of it."

I swallowed hard, the bitter taste rising in my throat, but my smile didn’t waver. Meanwhile, Lucerio’s smile only grew wider. I wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face.

"We should go now," Mr. De Chavel said, bidding their goodbyes.

The moment the heavy doors shut behind them, silence enveloped the room like a curtain falling. I barely had time to exhale before I felt it—the familiar weight of his presence. That stare. I turned my head slightly.

There he was.

His glare locked onto me like a loaded gun.

"Follow me," he ordered, his voice low, sharp with threat.

I didn’t hesitate. I followed him in silence, the air thick with tension, my every step a silent rebellion against the suffocating reality of this house.

Inside the room, he didn’t waste time. The plaque with his name crashed into me before I could even process it, the pain searing through my body.

"You embarrassed me," he spat, fury pouring from his words.

I stayed silent, my posture straight, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Mr. Hamilton spoke to me earlier," he hissed, his voice laced with venom.

"He claimed one of my puppets snapped." His eyes darkened.

"He said you attacked him. That you shattered a glass... and nearly carved him open with it."

I didn’t flinch. "Because he tried to force himself on me."

His voice grew more venomous. "He said you misread him. That he was being friendly. Polite. And you assaulted him."

I took a step forward, steady in my stance. "He touched me. I told him to stop. He didn’t. So I made him."

For a moment, he said nothing. I could hear him pacing, probably looking for something to hurt me with. Then he laughed—a cold, cruel sound.

"You think you’re some kind of noble woman?" he sneered.

I met his eyes, unwavering. "I think I protected myself. Because no one else ever does."

Without warning, his fist collided with my ribs. The breath was knocked out of me, but I stayed upright, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall.

"You don’t decide who touches you," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "I do."

Another blow landed, sending me to the ground.

"You think you're better than your mother?" he sneered, voice low and blistering. "At least she knew her place. She knew how to smile, how to keep men content without the pretense of virtue."

His eyes were filled with something darker now, something I couldn't quite place.

"I’m not like her," I hissed, blood rising in my throat as I tried to stand.

"Right. You’re worse," he mocked, his voice colder. "She knew she was a debauched woman. You?...You act like a noble woman and secretly seduce men, then act offended when they want something in return?"

He picked up his golden plaque. "You wear my name. That’s all you are. An accessory. A doll. A bargaining chip."

The pain was blinding, a savage ache that tore through bone and marrow, but I refused to scream. I refused to give him the satisfaction. When his boot crashed into my ribs, hurling me onto the cold marble floor, I bit down so hard on my tongue that blood filled my mouth like a tide, warm and metallic.

"You're lucky," he panted, towering over me, "that I haven’t sold you off yet."

"You can't—" I choked, the words ripped from my lungs.

"I can," he hissed, spittle flying, his face twisted in rage. "And I will."

I lifted my head, the room spinning, blood staining my teeth. I met his gaze — a dying thing staring down the executioner.

"Then do it," I said, voice raw but unshaken. "But I won’t smile. I won’t obey. I won’t thank you."

His fist tightened around the cane. The first blow shattered into my thigh, white-hot agony searing up my spine. The second found my hip, snapping something deep inside, but I bit back the scream clawing at my throat.

I would not beg.

"Apologize, you wretch!" he roared, his voice cracking with hate.

I let blood drip from my lips onto the floor between us. Then I smiled—broken, feral, unbowed.

"No."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Only the sound of his heaving breath filled the room, thick with fury.

His eyes, wild and glassy, burned straight through me.

"Stop acting like your mother," he snarled. "A beautiful little harlot, draping herself in virtue, pretending she’s above the very men who paid to ruin her. You're nothing but useless trash — and I can burn you whenever I please."

The plaque clattered to the floor. He turned and left, the door slamming behind him like a final blow.

I stayed there—crumpled, battered, every nerve screaming in protest.

But my voice was still mine.

My spirit, untouchable.

'No man in this world will ever take that from me.'