The 4th D is for Daddy

“What are you doing here?” The man’s voice was deep, and lilted with mild curiosity.

“I was…here for a-a new job.” That would explain the fact that you were a new face, weren’t in any kind of uniform, although did these rich assholes even pay attention to any details of the servants scurrying around them? “And I seem to have lost my way–”

Matt’s eyebrow quirked up, and he dragged his gaze up and down, appraisingly, over your form. “You’re covered in bruises.”

Your heart was pounding so fast it seemed impossible to think straight, but just as an excuse formed at the tip of your tongue, his eyes widened.

“You’re Derek’s toy.” His scrutiny shifted into something else, dragging over you more slowly, making your skin crawl. “I’ve heard so much about you. Against my will, of course. He loves bragging about the things he likes to do to you. Although I was expecting something a little more…extraordinary, from the way he sometimes won’t shut up.”

“He…no, you’ve got it wrong.” But with the way your voice trembled, your feet pivoting away in a subconscious drive to run, you knew you had already given yourself away.

Your heart seemed to stop, and you were frozen in place, undecided of what to do. The slow smirk on the other man’s lips sealed your decision. You turned on your heels, and just as you made the first two steps to flee, you were yanked back, a vice-like grip cutting off the bloodflow in your arm.

“Please!” Your eyes burned as you struggled for your life, but he was as solid as a rock, somehow stronger than Derek. “He does horrible things to me, I just can’t take it anymore! Please, please let me go!”

“You look intact to me,” he muttered, seemingly bitter. “I’ve heard what he likes to do, what he gets off on, and I was expecting you to be missing an appendage or two. Maybe he’s showing restraint, finally.”

“No…” This man had no idea what you had been through under Derek’s control! Every day you weren’t killed seemed like a miracle.

Panicked, you leveraged your weight and yanked as hard as you could. Somehow, that was enough to break free, but your legs got all tangled up, and you fell to the floor. Your face smacked against the rough carpet, and you shakily got to your hands and knees, all thoughts focused on escape.

A weight pressed between your shoulder blades and pushed you down. You felt your ribs creaked, and realized with a humiliating flush that Matt had stepped on you, and was grinding you into the floor. His dark, heavy leather shoes dragged back and forth, slowly pressing the wind out of your lungs. The weight held you in place as you tried, fruitlessly, to drag yourself out from under his foot.

“I didn’t say you could leave.” Funny, how he could sound so different than Derek, deeper voice, monotone, an almost sophisticated cadence to his words, but still be a total dick. “I heard that Derek bought you.”

Why even bother replying? You renewed your effort to escape, grunting pathetically as you tried to squirm free.

“And that means you’re property now. Part of the estate, technically.” He leaned into his heel, and that hurt. You froze in shock at the pressure building on your spine. “There’s no one working here who will help you, you know. They’re all paid to keep their mouths shut. Stay out of the way.”

You had figured that out on your own, when the housekeepers had ignored you, one running away in fright when you had thrown yourself at her feet to beg for her help, seemingly indifferent to your plight.

“You’re mine now.”

W-what?! “Derek’s going to kill you if he finds out!” you blurted out. He must be crazy.

A measured chuckle raised your hackles. “I’m not just anyone. Derek is my brother.” You froze up, involuntarily pulling your arms closer. “I’m the rightful heir to the Goffard name.”

You heard the malicious smirk in his voice. “And you’re just what I need to give Derek what he finally deserves.”

“Please.” Tears dripped down your cheeks, and you buried your face in the musty carpet, not caring about dirtying your skin. “He doesn’t give a shit about me. He says over and over that I’m worthless, nothing. He wouldn’t–”

“Then you don’t know him very well. I’ve known Derek since we were children,” he said. “And he would most certainly care what happens to you.” His foot eased up, and you took in a deep breath, desperate for air. “He won’t shut the fuck up about you to anyone he thinks would care. Especially our father.”

“What?” That seemed so bizarre that you couldn’t even picture it. That your captor would be so brazen as to talk about you, and describe the many crimes he had inflicted against you.

This whole family must be fucked up.

He dropped his head back, his mouth open as he squeezed eye drops into each eye. You watched, in a daze. It seemed strange somehow, that such a huge, muscular guy, someone who probably spent more in a month than you used to make in a year, was primping. That’s what he seemed to be doing, primping.

And Matt didn’t, apparently, have a problem about nudity…for good reasons. He had nothing to be ashamed of. You felt yourself flush as you struggled to keep your gaze over his waistline.

“So. How exactly did Derek keep you contained?” He scoffed. “Although he obviously didn’t do a very good job.”

“Um…” You bit your lip. “He let me wander around all I wanted,” you lied.

He raised a brow, obviously skeptical. “Did he?”

“Yeah. He was fine with me doing whatever I wanted, as long as I did what I was told.” That was only a partial lie. He was generous about letting you walk around, as long as he was in the room with you, and he wasn’t in the middle of torturing you for fun.

Matt sneered, his eyes narrowing, and you shrank away as he approached the bed. He oozed a dangerous, almost violent control that was intimidating.

“Let me make this clear. I detest lies. And I can already see when you’re making shit up. You have tells.” Your pulse skyrocketed. “So. Tell me the truth, or I’ll buy a dog cage fit for a chihuahua and leave you in there.”

Somehow, you knew he was being honest.

“He…” Your throat got tight as familiar emotions flooded through you, the hopelessness, fear, humiliation. “He kept me chained up. By my throat. He only unchained me when I…when he wanted to…” How could you describe everything that Derek did to you, how he found creative ways to hurt you? And really, you didn’t want to give this new, dangerous man any ideas.

The anger seemed to dissipate as he lifted his chin. “A chain to the neck is uncouth. Just a display of power, all psychological. I bet he thought it would work on you, but it was mostly to stroke his own ego.”

“Right.” As if having a metal chain around your neck had zero psychological impact. There were times you felt no better than a pet. Sometimes, Derek would force you to eat off the floor for his own amusement. Just an animal on a leash.

“A chain around your ankle would be more effective.” He waived a hand, as if this were obvious, and that the decision was done. “And would prevent you from wandering off, pretending to be the help.”

You felt your face burn.

“Although.” He tilted his head to the side, and zeroed in on you again. “How did you get out of the chain to begin with?”

The little bit of hope that you were clinging to crumbled into a fine dust. Matt wasn’t like Derek. He wasn’t presumptuous (about important things, anyway), he was smart, he actually listened to what you had to say with more than a passing curiosity.

He wasn’t going to let you escape.