Hired to Kill, Forced to love

Anna's POV

“You think you’re safe here because my wife pities you?” my foster father's voice cut through the little peace hanging in my room. “Don’t fool yourself. I’m the reason you’re still breathing under this roof.”

I tightened my grip on the curtain, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I never asked you for anything. And I haven't done anything to warrant your hatred either."

He chuckled. “Ungrateful little brat. You sleep under my roof, wear clothes I paid for. And yet you act like you’re too good to even look at me. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

I turned toward him, meeting his gaze. “Look at you? You disgust me, sir. You're not even fit to be a father."

His grin stretched. “Disgust won’t keep you fed, Anna. Gratitude will. And it’s time you start showing it my way.” He leaned forward. “Tomorrow night, I want you to see me in a hotel. You know what I want."

The blood drained from my face, but I didn’t flinch.

“I’d rather starve than fulfil your hellish lust,” I snapped.

The chair creaked as he rose to his feet, towering over me.

“You would do well to mind the way you use your cursed mouth. I can throw you out before sunrise, and no one will care if you live or die."

I was about to reply him, when my Foster mom sharp voice cut through the air.

“Where are you, Patrick?”

Patrick exhaled sharply, but he didn't take his evil eyes off me. "Over here."

A moment later she walked into my room.

Linda was short and fat, her face always pinched as though the world had done her wrong.

Patrick, her husband, was tall and just as heavy, his presence filling every corner like smoke you couldn’t escape.

She frowned, glancing between us. “What’s going on here?”

Patrick gave a dry laugh. “Nothing serious. I was just teaching Anna some lessons.”

I kept my mouth shut. Even if I spoke, it wouldn’t matter. Linda would never believe me.

If anything, she’d accuse me of seducing her husband.

Sometimes I wondered why these two had ever been chosen to be my foster parents.

Linda crossed her arms. “Leave her alone, Patrick. Nothing ever enters her dead brain anyway.”

Her words stung, but I swallowed them down, staring at the floor.

Patrick sneered but finally turned and walked out, but Linda stayed behind, her sharp eyes fixed on me.

“Don’t step one foot outside this house,” she warned coldly. “Clean every corner before I get back. And make sure Sam doesn’t hurt himself when he returns.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered.

She didn’t bother to reply. She just turned and walked away.

I followed her to the doorframe and watched as the two of them left the apartment.

Moments later, I heard the car engine roar to life and fade into the distance.

Only then did I breathe out a long sigh.

I hoped they didn't come home for the night, at least their absence would offer me some form of closure.

Amongst all the foster parents I have lived with, this happens to be the worse.

I checked the clock on the wall. It was seven o’clock already.

I needed to hurry before my Foster parent's son, Sam came back. If the house wasn’t clean, Linda would have another excuse to call me useless.

I moved quickly, sweeping the living room, wiping down the table, and washing the dishes.

When I finished, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the bathroom.

For a moment, I let my eyes close, wishing the water could wash me away from this world, to another world where I would be treated like a princess, not a slave or an object of gratification.

Then I heard the living room door open.

My eyes flew wide. My heart raced as I froze under the shower spray.

“Sam?” I called, my voice trembling. “Is that you?” But there was no response.

I swallowed as fear crawled through my nerves.

Sam never stayed quiet like this whenever he comes home. Whoever it was, they weren’t supposed to be here.

I turned off the shower and grabbed my towel, wrapping it around my body tightly.

My hands shook, but I forced myself to step out and tiptoed to the living room. “Who’s there?” I called again but there was no response.

Getting to the living room, I saw the door ajar, and a strong smell of cocaine filled the air.

Definitely not Sam, I panicked, my instinct screamed to run back inside and lock the door but when I turned, my eyes caught someone sitting in the far corner.

I almost froze, until I saw it was Sam.

“You scared me. Why didn’t you answer?” I asked, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

He didn’t reply my question. Instead, he stretched the cocaine towards me. “You want some?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, thank you,” I said, shutting the door. "Since when did you start smoking?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

I never knew Sam to be a smoker. He would always come home drunk, but tonight he wasn't drunk at all.

"There's a first time for everything. You should try it," he offered, his eyes fixed on me like a hawk.

“Why did you come in like a thief. You almost gave me a heart attack." I asked, ignoring his offer to smoke.

He leaned back and said slowly, “I wanted to know if you were alone in the house.”

I chuckled in disbelief. "You're scared your mom and dad are going to scold you for smoking?"

"On the contrary, I don't give a fuck what they think. I'm just sick of seeing them around."

"Suit yourself," I said, sighing in relief.

Then he got up, towering over me like a giant. He had his father's height, but more muscular than his father.

“You should be careful with that stuff, Sam. Smoking can be dangerous.”

I turned to go, but he caught my wrist with his strong hands.

My eyes widened in fear. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice trembling.

He looked at me and said, “I see how my parents treat you. I’m sorry about that.”

I forced a weak smile. “You can let go of my hand now.”

He released me at once. I pulled my hand back and sighed, rubbing the spot where his grip had been too strong.

I went back to my room and turned on the shower again, hoping to calm myself.

But the moment I looked up, Sam was there, inside my room.

I froze. Quickly, I tried to shut the bathroom door, but he pushed his weight against the door, and it banged.

I fell to the ground, my towel slipping off my body.

His eyes darkened, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“What are you doing, Sam?” I screamed.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you, Anna,” he said coldly. “Tonight just happens to be the perfect time.”

I scrambled to stand, but he grabbed my leg and dragged me across the cold bathroom tiles.