Give Back My Brother Chapter 2

After that, he took me to his estate. He had my broken arm set and healed, and he made me a promise: as long as I behaved, he would provide for me.

In the three years that followed, I learned the true chasm between us. Defy him, betray him, challenge him—it always ended the same way: a beating and the cold, damp dark of the basement. I was only let out when I had learned my lesson.

So I spent the next two years earning his trust.

The price of that trust was my brother.

When Leo found out Mark had taken me, he stormed the estate, a wild, desperate animal. He was beaten until he was spitting blood, but he still crawled toward me, grabbing my hand, begging me to leave with him.

My face was a mask of indifference. I pulled my hand from his grasp. "I'm in love with Mark," I said, the words like acid on my tongue.

The shock in my brother's eyes was a knife in my own heart. But I got better at it. The more I broke his heart, the more convincing I became.

Eventually, I could look down on him with the same condescending air as Mark himself.

"Just go, Leo," I sneered one day. "I'm going to marry him. Mom's been in that bed for ten years. Who knows when she'll finally die? I have to look out for myself."

CRACK.

The force of his slap sent a ringing through my ears. "Have you lost your mind? Have you no shame?" he roared, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears. "Tell me the truth, Jenny! Is that monster forcing you to do this?"

And Mark was standing right behind me, watching it all.

I calmly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and ordered the guards to throw my brother out.

It was that very day that Mark told me he was going to marry me.

There was no engagement. No ceremony. He tossed a diamond ring at me that probably cost less than his watch. That was it. We were married.

Because that was all I deserved.

I often prayed to the heavens, to my dead father. What am I supposed to do? What other way is there to save us, to save my brother?

But the answer was always the same. This body was my only weapon.

And it would only work as long as Mark Torrence was still interested in it.

Ring—

The sudden shrill of Mark's phone cut through my thoughts. He answered it, and a sweet, feminine voice cooed from the other end.

A few minutes later, he was dressed and heading for the door.

The moment the front door clicked shut, a text message lit up my phone. It was from my brother.

Just one line.

[Jenny Asher. As of today, we are no longer brother and sister.]