Page 104 of Sins of the Hidden

"Can't get annulled if I fucked her."

I sucked in a breath.Oh no.

Dad's jaw clenched, tendons standing sharply beneath flushed skin, eyes bulging like they might burst. His entire body went rigid, every muscle coiled tight with rage. His jade eyes—so much like my own—widened in horror.

My father, always so composed in his lawyer suits, now stood undone, gray streaking through his dark brown hair as if this moment had aged him years.

"You fucking—" Dad's leveled the gun at V's head, finger twitching on the trigger.

V leaned harder into the gun, pressing his forehead directly into the barrel, eyes never wavering from my father's face, daring him to end it all right here.

My heart stalled, my father's hand trembling violently, his finger quivering dangerously against the trigger.

"Please," I whispered, but the word barely left my mouth before the gun exploded.

The gunshot split the air, a brutal crack reverberating through my bones. A cry tore from me, shredding my throat.

A dark stream traced a slow path down V's temple, tracing a stark red line along his jaw. He reached up, calmly wiping at his temple with two fingers, inspecting the red smear without urgency. His eyes stayed locked on my father. He rolled his shoulders back and tilted his head slightly, as if stretching out a minor inconvenience.

My father looked like the one shot—face bloodless, eyes vacant, gun seething in his grip. The man who'd taught me to ride a bike stood frozen, staring at the smoking barrel, realizing exactly what he'd become.

Because of me.

V lowered his hand, then slowly extended it toward me, outstretched, his hand was stained and waiting. The red gleamed slick beneath harsh apartment lights, stark against his tan skin.He stood utterly unbothered, casually expectant, his gaze still fixed on my father.

"Show him how much you love me." His voice was flat and detached, but the words struck like blades.

My breath stuck painfully, throat constricting until air was agony. Don't throw up. Don't cry. Keep Dad alive.

"Oakley–" Dad's voice splintered—command fracturing into a desperate plea, his gaze wild and anguished as it darted between V's hand and my face.

Frozen, I couldn't move, caught in a nightmare. Refusal meant consequences I couldn't bear. Acceptance meant losing everything that mattered.Please, please don't make me do this.

Before I could react, V closed the distance, pressing his blood-coated fingertips roughly to my mouth. His thumb swept low, smearing across my lip, smearing blood over the trembling skin. The taste of copper coating my tongue.

I recoiled instinctively, but he clamped down on my face, fingers forcing my lips apart. He pushed his stained fingertips inside, invading, lingering as I choked down the urge to gag. My eyes flew wide, my heart hammering violently, pulse roaring through my skull. I found Dad's face again, eyes begging desperately for him to see this violation for what it was—forced, coerced, not me.

V's other hand snapped to the back of my neck, closing tight and immovable, pressing bruises into my flesh. He drew near, the surgical mask brushing my ear like ice, his whisper devoid of humanity. "Good wife."

He faced me without blinking, disappointment welling in his eyes as mine began to burn with tears. "It is true." His voice cracked on the last word, the sound of a father watching his worst nightmare unfold before his eyes.

My chin wobbled as I turned from his stare. His laugh, so full of contempt, made my heart ache. I could barely meet his eyes, his lips pursed as he glared at me. "You disappoint me, Oakley."

A sob burst free.

A loud crack echoed in the room.

Dad's body hit the floor with a loud thud as I gasped. I moved toward him, but V blocked me—arm like iron.

Dad pressed a shaking hand to his split lip, a dark line spread between his trembling fingers as V stood over him, his knuckles white from clenching his bat so hard. A trickle of blood seeped between my father's fingers, dripping onto my apartment floor. V stepped over his body, feet on each side of Dad’s waist as he slammed the tip of his bat next to his head hard enough to leave a dent in the floor. "Don't you fuckin' talk to her like that."

He swung his leg up, V jumping out of the way before he could connect his foot. V raised his bat above his head, ready to bring it down on Dad's knee.

"Stop!" I lunged between them, "Please don't do it." He tilted his head, looking at me as I pleaded. "If this is going to work, you have to get along with him."

"Fuck that," Dad grumbled, standing slowly, wiping blood from his split lip. Dad went to the door, not looking at me. My chest ached, hollowed out, as if my heartbeat had simply vanished. I almost followed. Almost became the little girl again who ran to him when she was scared. He protected me from everything.

But he couldn't protect me from this.

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