Her Trust : A Dark Syndicate Romance by H.R. Lloyd

Author:H.R. Lloyd [Lloyd, H.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-16T00:00:00+00:00

26

ANNIKA

Before he started coming to my room at night, my father had never been abusive. Not physically anyway. He was controlling, strict, and kept me away from the outside world. But beyond that, he mostly ignored me. He was a thoroughly average man to look at; average height, average build, not particularly ugly nor was he good looking. He had brown eyes and grey hair that was balding on top. But he had a presence. One of the first impressions I had of him was how everyone noticed when he walked into a room, how he could command an audience and how men twice his size would bend to his will.

He had this smile that he reserved for women. If you didn’t know him, you would consider it kind. Gentle even. Before I employed Guinevere, there was Mrs Crowe. She was a live in housekeeper and nanny, she was cruel and smelt like rose water, which to this day, I cannot stand. When my father spoke to Mrs Crowe with that deceptively warm smile, she melted, turning into a giggling teenager. Even when I was too young to understand what I was seeing, it would make me nauseous.

On the odd occasion he would take me to the club and have me hang around in the dressing room telling the dancers that they had to look after me while he worked, he would give them that smile, and they would smile and agree. Once, one of the girls came to him crying because a punter had ripped her bikini top off from her, he patted her shoulder and hugged her to his chest, stroking the back of her head. I remember watching in morbid fascination. He had never hugged me. I didn’t want him to. But he didn’t want to either and I remember trying to break it down in my head, why did he want to console her? Why did she want him to?

Once he started his decimation of my body and mind, he would randomly have moments of sickening tenderness with me during the day. He’d kiss my cheek or bend to tie my shoe when it had come undone. And outside of these miniscule moments he’d be the same cold and distant father he’d always been. Every time he thought to gift me with affection, my skin would crawl right off my body and leave me raw and sick. I understood then that those women who clung to that smile of his did it because they knew the alternative. They knew if they didn’t get his warm smiles, they would get his ice-cold shoulder and that wasn’t a place they wanted to be. I was in the unfortunate position of receiving both.

When Stanley Wolfe finally left this mortal plane and descended into the fiery pit, I knew that I would never be a googly eyed female pining for the approval of a man, nor would I accept being ignored. I’d been weak when strength wasn’t an option, but I would never reduce myself to that state again.

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