Page 1 of Ruined By Blood
CHAPTER 1
Istare at myself in the bathroom mirror, barely recognizing the hollow-eyed girl looking back at me. The hot shower washed away the physical evidence, but nothing removes the invisible stain. My skin still crawls with phantom touches.
My fingers grip the edge of the sink as anger flares briefly. This sudden burst of emotion feels dangerous, forbidden. I quickly push it down, lock it away with all the other feelings that could get me killed in this house.
The bruise forming on my collarbone will need concealer tomorrow. One of my father's "business associates" got carried away. Not that Father will care—as long as there are no visible marks when I'm needed for the next "meeting."
I slip into my silk nightgown, something modest despite being in my own room. There's no such thing as privacy in the Sterling Estate. The cameras hidden in the vents make sure of that.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway makes my stomach clench. Heavy, measured steps. Father.
The doorknob turns without a knock—of course. Why would he knock? Everything here belongs to him. Including me.
"Sienna."
His voice carries that familiar cold command that makes me shrink instantly. My shoulders curl inward, eyes lowering to the floor. It's not a conscious choice anymore—my body knows the rules for survival.
"Father." The word tastes bitter on my tongue.
Henry Sterling strolls into my room with the confidence of a man who owns everything he surveys. His blue eyes—so like mine in color yet utterly devoid of humanity—scan my appearance.
"Mr. Davenport was quite pleased with your company this evening." His voice holds the same tone he might use discussing a successful stock investment.
I keep my face carefully blank, hiding the disgust churning in my stomach. "I'm glad to hear it."
He moves closer, and I fight the urge to step back.
Father reaches into his pocket, pulling out what looks like an invitation card. The crisp white paper catches the light, gold embossed lettering glinting against the surface. He places it on my hand.
"There's an event tonight at The Venetian Rose Casino. You'll be attending."
My stomach drops, but I keep my expression neutral.
Not tonight.
Not again.
Not when my body still aches.
"Tonight?" I manage to keep my voice steady.
" Yes. There will be a client there expecting your company." He straightens his already perfect cufflinks. "Mr. Cortez is considering a significant investment in our shipping operation. You will ensure he feels... especially welcomed."
The floor seems to tilt beneath me. I know exactly what "especially welcomed" means.
"What time should I be ready?" I ask, because there's no point arguing. There never is.
"The car will be here at eight. Wear the red dress." He glances toward my closet, where the skin-tight designer gown hangs. "The diamonds, not the pearls."
Red like blood.
Red like a warning.
Red like the merchandise I've become.
"Yes, Father."
He moves toward the door, then pauses, turning back to examine me with cold calculation. "You seem tired. Take something to perk up. I need you sharp tonight."
