Chereads / CINNAMON WHISPERS / Chapter 2 - Chapter Two:

Chapter 2 - Chapter Two:

(Heather's POV)

As I stood in front of the mirror, carefully applying my makeup, I could hear the sound of my stepfather's car pulling up outside. I sighed and put down my makeup brush, steeling myself for another night at his friend's "weekend party."

My stepfather, Marcello, had been my manager ever since I started modeling. At first, I was grateful for the opportunity. But as time went on, I realised that he was using his position to manipulate and control me. One of the ways he did this was by forcing me to attend these parties every weekend. But it is not too bad compared to the way he has been treating me all these years; he has been my legal guardian since my mother had to go to jail. I was 12 years old then; I'm 35 now; you can guess how long it has been.

I walked outside to meet Marcello, who greeted me with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Ready to go, Heather?" he asked. I nodded stiffly and got into the car.

As we drove to the party, Marcello chatted amiably about his plans for my dying career. I half-listened, my mind already on the night ahead. I knew what to expect: a crowded house, loud music, and plenty of alcohol. And I knew that, as usual, I would be expected to mingle and "network" with his friends and colleagues.

When we arrived at the house, I followed Marcello inside. The living room was already filled with people, most of them middle-aged men in suits. I spotted a few familiar faces—other models who had also been roped into attending by their managers. All the men here are around my stepfather's age, early to late forties, my stepfather is 47, you could wonder why my step father is in his forties while I'm in my thirties. Well, my mother adores younger men, as my own father was said to be way younger than my mother.

Marcello made a beeline for the bar, leaving me to fend for myself.

I stood awkwardly by the wall, sipping a glass of champagne and trying to avoid eye contact with the leering men who surrounded me.

As the night wore on, I could feel the tension in the room growing. The music was louder, the laughter more forced, and the men more aggressive. I knew what was coming - it happened every weekend. One by one, they would start to make their moves, touching me without permission, whispering lewd comments in my ear. I tried to ignore them, focusing on the flickering candlelight and the distant sound of the ocean outside. But it was no use. Soon, I felt a hand on my waist, pulling me close. I tried to pull away, but the man - one of Marcello's friends - was too strong.

"Come on, Heather," he slurred in my ear. "Don't be like that. You know you want it." I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of despair wash over me.

This has always been my life—a never-ending cycle of parties and assaults, all under the watchful eye of my stepfather. Before I could come up with an excuse to escape from him, my stepfather appeared with his infamous fake smile. He offered me a glass of wine as usual; the content in the glass, disguised as wine, is supposed to leave me a little unconscious but conscious enough to respond to whatever they're about to do to me next. I drank the whole thing, emptying the glass of its content, which earned me a satisfied hum from my stepfather as he and his friend led me towards a more private room.

This is the part where they inject me with some substance that is supposed to serve as a birth control or contraceptive, and the next part proceeds very blurry and very uncomfortably until I wake up with aching body parts, bruised wrists, and dishevelled hair.

"Such a great sight; how can I ever get bored of you? When I saw your mother, a beautiful and appealing woman, I was able to overlook her age because of her charming beauty, but I knew you, her daughter, would grow into an even more beautiful and pleasing woman." My stepfather commented, his disturbing gaze fixed on me as his friend ripped me off every layer of clothing.