The devil's duplicate

Izzy’s POV

That mansion had kept me imprisoned for as long as I could remember.

Every day, I would look out the window, wishing for a moment that I could be one of the birds as they soared over the sky. Only long enough to get away.

My heart, therefore, skipped a beat when one of Father's guards knocked on my chamber door and said, "He wants to see you." Perhaps he had finally decided to let me go.

I remained silent. My bare feet hardly made a sound as I simply followed the man along the chilly marble corridor. I hastily dabbed at my clothes with my shaking hands.

Perhaps he has changed. Perhaps he's prepared to give me my life back.

The door of Father's study crashed behind me as I walked in.

He was seated behind a big oak desk in his normal chair. One hand holds a cigar, the other a glass of whiskey. His icy look locked with mine.

He said, "Sit."

I took a seat.

There was silence for a while. Like a battle drum, my heart pounded in my chest.

Then at last he said something.

"You're going on a little trip, Izzy," he remarked.

I blinked. "A journey?"

"Towards the city," he continued. "Someone is going to meet you."

A weird shiver went through me. "Who?"

I felt sick to my stomach as he smiled.

"Someone who bought you for a lot of money."

At first, the words didn't make sense. I looked at him, trying to make sense of it.

"Paid... for me?" I said.

His elbows were resting on the desk as he leaned forward. "You are no longer a child. You're a female. And women are valuable, particularly attractive ones. He'll have you now. His belongings.

I halted breathing. "Are you trying to sell me?"

"No," he said icily. "I've sold you already."

"You can't!" My chair crashed behind me as I got to my feet. "You're my dad!"

He squinted his eyes. You are also my burden. Don't act as though you were unaware that this day would arrive.

I shook my head and said, "I won't go."

“You will,” he said, carefully getting to his feet. "There is nothing you can do."

"I would rather die," I yelled.

Then the slap arrived.

I was pushed back into the chair by the force and speed of it. My face was burning. Tears pricked my eyes, but I fought the need to cry.

He leaned down and said, "You'll go," with a low growl. "Or I will kill you myself."

A black automobile with tinted windows was thrown at me. The guard next to me remained silent and ignored me. I tried not to tremble as I sat with my hands folded in my lap.

Hours went by. The city appeared. Neon lights, tall buildings, and people drinking and laughing on the walkways.

It seemed like a different planet.

I wasn't going to the laughs, though. We drove to a big, icy, and terrible mansion on the hill that was gated.

The motorist arrived. The gate opened. Like luggage, I was pushed out of the automobile.

Before I could get to the front door, it opened.

And there he was.

Tall. Greasy hair. His hairy chest was surrounded by a gold chain. His eyes scanned me like I was meat, his shirt half unbuttoned.

"Glorious," he remarked. "Your dad told the truth."

I said nothing. As he got closer, my gut churned.

He smiled and continued, "My name is Carlo." "Doll, you'll come to love me."

He touched my cheek with his hand. I recoiled and took a step back.