Chapter 118 - ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN

Chapter 118: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN

ANGEL

"I won’t play your foolish game!"

Jillian sighed like she’d expected this response and had planned for it. She turned to the man holding my jaw.

"He chose red, unfortunately." Her voice was sweet with feigned regret. "And according to it, his daughter gets played with a knife."

"No—!" The scream tore from me, fear flaring through every nerve.

"Jillian, stop!"

"Don’t move, husband! One step and she dies!" Jillian’s voice snapped through the room like a whip crack. Vincenzo froze. Mid-step. His whole body rigid with the effort of stopping himself.

My eyes rounded with horror as the man reached into his pocket and produced a blade. Curved and stainless. It caught the light, gleaming.

"Stop now!" Vincenzo’s voice exploded through the room.

The knife moved. Fast. Slashing through air and fabric — my shirt shredding apart in ragged strips, falling away from my body. It miraculously missed my flesh. Except now I was topless. And I wasn’t wearing a bra. The cold attacked my breasts immediately, hardening my nipples against my will.

I was exposed in the spotlight — every inch of skin visible to every pair of eyes in this room. The men with their guns. Jillian with her dead eyes. And beyond the light, in the dark — Daddy. Damien. Both of them seeing what only Daddy was ever supposed to see.

I saw Damien’s eyes drop to my bare chest. That cruel little smile widened by a fraction. And I hated him — hated him with every cell in my body — for making my face burn with shame.

"Get off her! And you might leave this place alive," Vincenzo growled. His voice was shaking as he let out a curse. His hands were trembling at his sides.

The man with the knife brought the blade to my breast. The flat of it first — cold metal against my nipple, pressing, turning. Then the tip. Slowly rotating against the sensitive peak. Pressing harder to earn a frightened whimper from me.

The man leaned close. "You like that, princess?" he breathed against my skin. "Your daddy’s watching."

Pain. Bright and searing was all I felt as the first bead of blood welled up — warm, wet, rolling down the curve of my breast in a thin red line.

"That’s enough!" Jillian’s voice rang out.

The man withdrew the blade. But not before lifting it to his mouth. His tongue dragged along the flat of the metal — tasting my blood — and he grinned at me. Red tongue with eyes that promised this was just the appetizer.

"You see?" Jillian turned to Vincenzo, her mouth set in a sultry pout. "This is what happens when you don’t listen."

I was sobbing. The tears were falling freely now and I couldn’t stop them. The blood was dripping down my breast in a thin, steady stream.

Daddy was watching all of it and I could feel him breaking. His eyes were burning. But there were so many guns to my head, Daddy couldn’t save me. He wouldn’t act and risk killing me. I could see the war happening inside him — the rage pulling him forward, the love holding him back.

And Damien — Damien was watching too. Still and silent and expressionless. Jillian turned to him, her smile didn’t waver. "Next wrong answer and he’ll get to keep her tits as a souvenir. You won’t like that, would you, Dammy? You were always so obsessed with your niece’s tits." Damien stared at her with those cold thunderstorm eyes as she held up two cards. "Red or blue."

Grey gaze found mine across the room. For one second — just one — something passed between us that I couldn’t name and didn’t even want to. Then he looked back at Jillian.

"Red," he said.

Jillian smirked. "Red says she cums for us. Blue says she blows and takes the load of all of these men." She turned to me. "So are you ready to cum for us, Angel? Spread those legs and show us. We know you’re nasty."

Her words made everything within me rage. I wanted to refuse. To fuck her dirty cunt with those cards. But Daddy was standing there. And every second I spent on this stage was a second she was gutting him alive. This was never about hurting me. I was just the knife. He was the target. I couldn’t give these men blowjobs, just thinking about it gathered bile in my mouth once again.

I took too long to answer. My silence stretched in the room for half a minute. Each second an eternity.

"Seems the little slut wants her skull pounded," Jillian said to the men, I saw them move.

The bastards’ hands going to belts. One by one they pulled themselves free — thick, heavy, their cocks hanging between their legs while they grinned at me like a pack of dogs that had just been told fetch.

"No!" I rushed out, finding my voice, "I’ll do it... I’ll do it."

My hands were shaking. I kicked off my pants. The fabric caught on my ankles and I stumbled and one of the men laughed.

Panties next. I pulled them down. Stepped out of them.

I was standing naked in the spotlight. Every part of my body that only Daddy’s hands were supposed to touch revealed to this pack of wolves.

"By all means, Angel. We don’t have all day." Jillian gestured at the floor with a lazy flick of her wrist. "Lie on the floor and give us a performance. I’m sure my men want to see it. Isn’t that right, boys?"

They cheered with their guns still pointed, it appeared Jillian wasn’t taking any chances. Their guns weren’t the only thing pointing. Their dicks were hardened, as they stroked themselves to my body.

My back touched the floor. The spotlight burning down on me from above, turning my body into something illuminated and displayed. A girl in a museum. A body in a morgue.

My fingers parted my slit. And I felt everything at once — every pair of eyes in this room. The men. Jillian’s. And past all of it, the two gazes that weighed more than all the rest combined. Daddy. Damien. Both watching my cunt spread open under my own hand.

I rubbed slowly. My fingers moving in tight, nervous circles. There was nothing there. No heat. No spark. My body was cold and numb and running on terror instead of blood and every nerve was focused on survival. There was no pleasure to be found in this room. Not from my own fingers, under these lights with guns aimed at my naked body and men stroking themselves to the sight of me.

"Show some enthusiasm." Jillian spat. "I’m sure those men wouldn’t mind helping you out."

I rubbed faster. Teased my slit. Tried to coax something — anything — from a body that had locked itself down and thrown away the key. One of the men was close now. Stroking his cock with slow, lazy pulls. His eyes on me. His tongue running across his lower lip.

My fingers sped up, fucking myself deeper. Faster. And faster. Trying to force a response from flesh that felt like it belonged to someone else.

"See?" Jillian turned toward where Daddy stood. "Your daughter is going to make these men cum. She’s so good at what she does." She paused. "Tell me — should I let them give her the creampie of her life?"

"I’m going to kill you, slowly. You can still stop..." Vincenzo’s voice was low. Quiet with fury.

"You still think you can threaten me?!" Jillian whirled on him, "If you loved me even half as much as you do her, this wouldn’t be happening!"

Hate poured through her voice now. "I heard you through the cameras. You wanted a baby with her and you forced contraceptives on me! Didn’t you say you never wanted children? Why was it different with this whore?!"

The words landed in the room like a bomb. Contraceptives. He’d forced contraceptives on his wife while dreaming of breeding his daughter. The depravity of it would have made me laugh if I wasn’t lying naked on a floor trying to make myself cum at gunpoint.

"Why not allow one of these nameless men fuck a bastard baby into her cunt?" She held up the cards. "Red or blue, Vincenzo?"

The silence was suffocating. I couldn’t see Daddy’s face past where I was lying. But I could feel him. The devastation radiating from his body like heat from a fire.

"Blue."

"Great!" Jillian clapped her hands, "You get to choose between all of these men fucking their cum into your daughter — or asking your brother-in-law to get her pregnant for you."​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Time went still. Daddy’s response didn’t come.

One second.

Two seconds.

The silence in the room was so heavy I could feel it pressing against my bare skin like a hand.

Damien spoke first, a faint smirk curved on his lips, as though he was enjoying Daddy’s struggle.

"Surely it shouldn’t be so hard to pick, you don’t want these animals touching her. Do you?" His gaze swept over the men with their hard cocks and their hungry grins like he was inspecting something beneath him. "Look at them, Vin. Their dirty hands. Their ugly cocks."