Chapter 6 Charity Case

"Good evening Mr Ainsley"

Grace turned to see a blond man shake hands with her dad, she watched his back and observed that he looked lanky and almost didn't fill in his suit—It was a pricey-looking oxblood suit paired with stylish black shoes and completed with a silver watch that sat on the wrist of the hand that firmly gripped her dad's in a handshake.

"Mr Blackwell," She saw her dad give a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. 

Blackwell? That surname sounded quite familiar.

She felt her mom grip her hands as she turned to her with questioning eyes.

Sarah slowly nodded, "That's Mr Blackwell, my dear, he has been assisting with my medical bills, he's the one—"

"That I'm supposed to marry." Grace finished for her mom who just gave a tight-lipped smile and patted her hands softly.

Grace thought if she didn't turn to look at them he wouldn't quite notice her but that thought was cut short as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"You're Grace, yes?"

Grace shut her eyes, took a deep breath and turned to the man, she was faced with a wide grin. She instantly didn't like it.

"Hello Grace, I'm Vance. Vance Blackwell," She finally met his eyes which were a weird brownish colour, he stared at her like she was supposed to know who he already was. When she didn't respond immediately he subtly glanced at her dad and she mirrored the motion with raised eyebrows.

The man wasn't handsome, he had a crooked nose, a sluggish grin and not so attractive eyes but nevertheless, Grace stuck her hand in his and mustered a very bright smile.

"I'm Grace Ainsley, it's a pleasure to meet you," This type of man, she thought, was the type who loved to receive the praises of others and that was what she did.

"I've heard much about you Mr Blackwell—"

"Vance. Call me Vance." He said using his thumb to caress her hand, she felt irritated but she continued.

"My mama said you are a very good man and that you are the one who has been helping our family out.”

It was then she realised that Vance wasn't looking at her but rather, he was looking at her hand with a strange look, he had begun caressing it and suddenly without warning he pulled it closer and began to sniff it. This caused her to be appalled and immediately pull back but the man was stronger as he snatched it back up and continued studying her hand.

Grace looked around in a panic and saw Maddox sporting an irritated look as he also watched Vance from a corner.

Vance lifted Grace's hand higher, tilting it toward the light as if he were examining jewellery.

"Hmm," he murmured, sliding his thumb over her palm. "I like perfectly manicured hands. Soft ones. Yours..." He paused, his nose almost brushing her knuckles. "Are not neat."

Grace cringed and tried to pull her hand back again but the man held on tighter.

Grace looked directly at her dad this time, her eyes wide and pleading, and her father finally cleared his throat. "Mr—"

"Vance," He corrected sharply and finally released Grace's hand then straightened while brushing his hair back. 

He turned to Grace’s father, “I'd like to take her to dinner tonight. To get acquainted."

Her father hesitated only a second. "Of course. She'll go."

Vance smiled like he knew that they wouldn’t refuse him, Grace went back to hug her mom who in turn squeezed her arm as if apologising without words.

Grace followed Vance out of the room, passing Maddox on the way, she felt his eyes on her but she didn’t dare look up at him as she literally felt like a lamb led to slaughter. She followed Vance out of the hospital and he led her to a sleek black car. 

The man didn’t even pretend like he was going to open the door for her as he just snapped his fingers at her and gestured for her to get into the car which she did with an irritated look on her face.

Throughout the car ride, Grace kept her hands on her lap, fingers tight, replaying the strange moment over and over, she didn’t even realise she was pressed against the car door.

“Not comfortable?” She turned to look at him wondering what he meant and he just glanced at her, “You’re sitting like this is your first time in a luxury car though, I wouldn’t be surprised as I’m sure your family isn’t able to afford one, right?”

Grace frowned but didn’t reply.

“Right?” He repeated again with a clipped tone, 

“Right,” Grace responded with a mutter.

The "dinner" wasn't dinner.

It was a club.

The bass literally reverberated on the ground, she stepped out of the car and followed behind Vance, they walked past the line and the security guard just waved them in.

“See how no one cared to ask for our IDs? Money talks.” He shouted to her and began walking expecting her to follow, which she did as she didn’t want to get lost though she wouldn’t mind it.

Lights flashed everywhere. People danced, drank, and shouted. Vance didn't slow down. He walked her straight to a velvet-carpeted VIP room.

Inside were four men around his age—late twenties, early thirties. Sharp suits. Cold eyes. They sat around a round table, there were a few girls lounging around. One of them was pouring a drink for one of the guys while letting him have an up close and personal view of her titties.

Grace blinked. ‘What the actual hell,’ she thought.

"Boys," Vance said and literally dumped himself into a seat. "This is Grace."

Their eyes dragged over her. One whistled.

Grace stood there feeling overly conscious as she fought not to twiddle her thumbs, she stepped back a bit but Vance pulled her to sit beside him. Too close.

"So this is the girl?" One asked.

"Pretty face," Another said.

Grace forced a smile and placed her hands on her knees. Vance draped his arm behind her, fingers brushing her shoulder. She stiffened. She didn’t like contact with this man one bit but she tried not to show it.

Music thumped and laughter gradually began to fill the room. Drinks were passed around, and Grace kept refusing drinks claiming she wasn’t done with her one cup as she also tried to make herself small enough not to be noticed as the men talked.

The night felt like forever and Grace would have given anything to leave and that was when she felt it—Vance's hand slid down her thigh, slow and intentionally.

She jerked her leg away. "Please don't,” She said and tried to keep a smile on her face.

Vance laughed. "Relax." He looked tipsy already, he put his hand on her again.

Grace pushed his hand again. Firmer this time. "I said no."

The smile vanished.

And without warning, Vance had grabbed the back of her hair and yanked her closer, pain immediately shot across her scalp.

"Listen," he said in a low, cold voice. "Your family sold you to me. You're not a princess. You're a charity case." His fingers tightened in her hair. "Which means you have no right to talk back."

His friends smirked and one of them said, “You let the bitch know.”

One of the men slid closer, resting a hand on her other thigh and another brushed her arm. Grace tried to pull away but Vance held her in place.

"You can't do anything," He said. "This is your life now,” He began nuzzling into her neck. “Or do you no longer care what becomes of your mama?”

Her heart pounded and their hands made her skin crawl.

She forced herself to breathe and yanked free—not gracefully, not cleanly but with enough strength that she slipped off the couch and hit the floor. She scrambled up and bolted.

She pushed through the crowd, holding back her sobs as she shoved past bodies, ignoring the music, and the hands that grabbed for her when she passed.

She burst out of the club and into the alley, chest tight and fists shaking.

She slumped to the ground, crying.

In a darker and more private booth, a whiskey glass was swirled, the smooth fingers holding it slowly brushed the side of the glass before lifting it to his lips to drink from. Sat with one leg crossed over the other.

Enzo.

He leaned back in his seat, eyes cold and with an unreadable expression.

He had seen everything.