You can t lie

"Damon, please, I beg you, let me go," she cried. He pulled her up using his tie, which he had used to bind her hands.

She knew struggling was futile. His eerie gaze made her shiver. They were emotionless and empty. She tried to read his eyes, but like his conscience, they were blank.

To her surprise, he released her and walked over to the bedside table. Yet her fear only grew as she wondered what he would do next.

When he returned, he was holding a pair of scissors.

"I love it when you beg," he murmured, snipping away at her white dress, tearing it to pieces until she was completely naked before him-she had worn no undergarments. "Beg me, Maya. Beg me!"

Maya swallowed hard.

"You're being disobedient, aren't you?" he whispered in her ear, his breath sending vibrations through her body. "I like that too." His hand slid down to grip her bum. "Now I have every reason to do what I've always wanted to do to you, Maya..."

---

A Few Days Earlier

Maya entered her apartment, exhausted from work. Being a journalist had been eventful that day; it was a miracle she hadn't been hit by a stray bullet during the police standoff with criminals.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Ana, casually walking in. Ana was taller than her by a foot, a beauty who had inherited all their mother's striking features. But the sneer on Ana's lips spoke volumes of her disdain for her older sister.

At least with that kind of open hostility, Maya didn't have to wonder if it was all in her head. She wasn't just unloved by Ana; she was an outcast in her entire family. Her parents were filthy rich, but for reasons she never understood, she was treated like dirt.

It was no surprise that her first taste of freedom came through her job. Alfredo, the patriarch, though despising the sight of her, had made it a rule that she could never leave the family home, a rule that baffled her to no end.

"Maya, father wants to see you," Ana announced.

A chill ran down her spine. The last time her father had summoned her, it hadn't ended well. "Why?" Maya asked, on guard.

"He didn't say, but he wants to talk over dinner."

Maya eyed her sister suspiciously. The smug expression on Ana's face suggested she knew more than she was letting on. And being invited to dine with the family was unusual enough to raise all sorts of red flags.

"I'll be there in a minute," she finally replied.

"Be quick about it," Ana snapped, turning to leave. "We're expecting a guest, and Dad wants to finish speaking with you before he arrives." At the door, Ana threw one last barb over her shoulder, "Oh, and don't forget to bathe, Maya. You stink."

As her sister left, Maya's unease deepened. The last time her father had called her, it had been two years ago, after she'd slapped Ana during a particularly humiliating incident. The punishment had been brutal-an experience she never wanted to relive.

But maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad. It was over dinner, after all. Still, as Alfredo Petra's second daughter, Maya was always on the defensive.

She took a quick shower and threw on a light gown, her nipples visible through the fabric since she hadn't bothered with a bra.

When Maya arrived in the dining room, her family was already seated. She stood by an empty chair, waiting for the reprimand she was sure was coming. She had tried her best to avoid her father, but it was never enough.

"Sit down, Maya; let's have dinner," her father said softly.

She blinked in shock. Had he really spoken to her so gently? Was she imagining things?