Wordless Read online

  contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Definitions

  For more....

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Vivid Lies

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Copyright © 2016 Alyne Roberts

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law..

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  Cover by: R.B.A. Designs

  Editing: Polished Pen Editing

  For anyone looking for their fairy tale.

  chapter one

  shiloh

  EVERY MAN HAS his secrets. Especially the most powerful and dangerous of men. My father is one of them, and I am one of his secrets.

  “You remember the rules, Shiloh?”

  “How could I forget?” I mumble. “They have been drilled into my mind for my whole life.”

  I was going to leave the house. For the first time in my life.

  My grandmother sighs and tugs on the curling iron a little harder than necessary. Wincing, I watch her quick hands in the mirror as she styles my hair. Her movements are practiced and sure from years of doing the hair of six girls.

  “Tell no one your last name. Tell no one where you are from,” she starts.

  “I am nobody. I am invisible. I am a ghost,” I finish for her.

  As my older sisters turned twenty-one and stepped outside the estate walls their first time, I listened with envy and fascination when they returned with stories of what they saw and experienced. I’ve always dreamed about what it would be like to leave this house.

  Finally it is my turn.

  “I’m serious,” my grandma continues. “You can never tell anyone who you are. There are a lot of people that will want to hurt you if they know who your father is.”

  I nod as much as I can with my long, blond hair in her grasp.

  “I’ll be careful,” I promise.

  I meet her worried stare in the mirror. Blue eyes, much like my own, are filled with fear and warning.

  “He only wants to keep you safe.”

  “I know,” I say, even though I am pretty sure it is more in his best interest than ours.

  Every man has a weakness and for my father it is his own children. Nothing could hurt him more than losing one of his daughters like he lost our mother. So we are kept a secret, hidden in this house so no one knows we even exist.

  “Were you this worried when the others girls went out?” I ask.

  “No,” she answers. “They didn’t want this as badly as you do.”

  We remain silent as she helps me get ready. When my hair and makeup are finally complete, my grandma stands to leave. I barely look like myself. I assume that’s the point.

  “Come down when you are ready,” she says. “We’ll be waiting.”

  Once she is gone, I grab the black dress waiting for me in the closet. I bought it online months ago just for tonight.

  “A little privacy?” I snap at the burly man in the corner of the room.

  James glares, but steps out into the hall. He has been guarding me for years, so he has good reason to dislike me. As I grew older and more restless, I became difficult to manage. He is the reason I carry a handcuff key on my anklet.

  Once alone, I slip on the short, black dress, loving how feminine and elegant I feel. My hands shake as I run them over the lace. Years of anticipation sends energy coursing through my veins. I have been counting down the days to this birthday for as long as I can remember. My entire life has led up to this day. To calm my nerves, I reach for the glass of champagne a server brought up earlier.

  I’ve lived my whole life as a prisoner under the guise of being a pampered daughter. I’m just a whisper, overlooked and hidden from everyone. A weak link on a gold chain. I don’t want the life that I was born into. I want freedom.

  Eleutheromania: (n.) an intense and irresistible desire for freedom.

  I say the word to myself in my head. It grounds me when I feel off balance. With no friends or permission to leave my house, I took to learning. Words are my favorite thing to obsess over. I collect the most obscure and beautiful ones, keeping them as my own.

  Bracing myself, I take a deep breath before leaving the safety of my room. My heels click on the marble floors as I approach the winding staircase. At the bottom of the steps, my family waits.

  My dad stands in the center. His hands are clasped in front of him and a proud smile stretches across his usually stone face. My grandmother waits beside him, surrounded by my older sisters. Each one with a different emotion from scared to excited.

  My footfalls echo in the large space, my heart beating faster with each one.

  “You look beautiful,” my dad says when I reached the foyer.

  I almost stumble from the compliment. My dad isn’t very affectionate toward his daughters.

  “Thank you,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady to hide my anxiety.

  “The car is out front. I will see you in the morning.”

  He spins around and walks away. My sisters each take turns giving me hugs and warning me to be careful. I can only nod and pull away, counting down the seconds of freedom that I have left.

  I have until sunrise to see what is beyond these walls. Each one of us gets to do as we wish on our twenty-first birthday. We can leave our last name and personal guards behind for the first time. We only have one night after the sun goes down. In the morning it’s over and we return to our hidden lives. Until our father marries us off to one of his trusted men.

  I try not to run as I take the front steps down and slide into the backseat of the waiting car. As it drives down the long driveway, my heart races. I keep expecting my father to drag me back to my room. The large iron gates open as we approach and just like that, I am free.

  The car races down the road at what feels like h
igh speeds. I have only ever been on the riding mowers or four-wheelers that drove around our property before, never outside the gates. Moving this fast terrifies me, but the lights flashing outside the window distract me as the city comes into view.

  We slowly drive down the Las Vegas Strip with heavy traffic. I watch in awe as we pass casinos and hotels. I spent hours looking up the strip online but nothing compares to seeing it in real life. The buildings that I usually see from my bedroom window are larger than I could ever imagine. Everything looks so small from up on the hill. I grew up staring down at the city my family takes credit for building. The noise is louder now, the streets are more crowded.

  “Stop here,” I call to the driver as we reach a less-populated area.

  He does as he is asked and pulls up to the curb. Worried he may change his mind, I quickly jump from the car. Immediately I’m overwhelmed. I feel so small and alone as the crowd moves around me, swallowing me whole, but I feel free.

  The car will wait until I return. I walk down the dirty sidewalk, watching all the action around me. I gaze up at the tall buildings and bright lights, excitement buzzing through my body. I wander aimlessly until the sound of music draws me inside.

  A man stands at the door but opens it for me without question as I approach. The hallway is dark, lit only by neon lights on the floor. Music thumps loudly and the bass moves through my body. I take several sets of stairs before another hallway opens into a large space filled with people.

  Lights flash over the mob of dancing people, covering them in colors. The noise and energy is almost overwhelming. I feel tiny and invisible in a swarm of action. Pushing through the crowd, I try to find my way to one of the bars lining the walls.

  I pull out my ID at the bar. I left the house equipped with a cell phone, a credit card, and a fake ID. All provided and tracked by my father, no doubt.

  “What will it be?” the bartender shouts, leaning over the bar to reach my ear.

  His eyes drift down my body, and I glare. I’m used to it, thanks to my dad’s men, but this guy is nowhere near as scary. I may be sheltered, but I’ve been exposed to some of the worst people.

  “Cosmo,” I tell him, sliding my card to him. I googled alcoholic drinks weeks ago so I would look like I knew what I was doing. I can’t ask for champagne in a place like this.

  While I wait for the drink, I look around the room. As much as I want to leave the fortress I live in, I am still very aware of the danger I may be running into. My grandma has been sharing horror stories of the outside world for as long as I can remember.

  Young women kidnapped and raped. Murders and muggings. Senseless violent attacks. The world is a dangerous place, and we were lucky to be so protected, she’d tell us.

  Everyone thinks I am naive and clueless. No one notices me, and they all think I don’t know the kind of person my own father is. I know exactly why people would want to hurt him. If his enemies are anything like him, I don’t want to run into any of them.

  I drink my drink before moving into the crowd. The heat is intense with all the moving bodies. Closing my eyes, I move to the music, like I often do in my bedroom. I melt into the rhythm of strangers and force myself to forget where I came from. I feel free and careless while the music controls my body.

  I don’t know how much time passes before the heat is too much. I feel the sweat dripping down the back of my neck. Pulling my hair up onto the top of my head, I weave through the crowd. I find another set of stairs leading to a second level, which opens to a rooftop bar.

  No one stops me or gives me a second glance as I walk past another bouncer, acting like I belong. I exhale in relief when the cool, night air touches my skin. I am invisible and easily glide through the people toward the bar for another drink.

  A loud group of people catch my attention. They take up two large booths near the railing overlooking the strip below. Gorgeous women surround the men. There is a confidence and power in the men that I recognize. It’s familiar in a way that sends shivers down my spine. I watch the group as they drink and dance. This is the life I dream about. The freedom to do as I wish, move as I please, and be without fear.

  One man holds my attention more than the others. He sits in the center, one arm resting on the back of the booth. Holding a glass to his lips, dark eyes watch the girl seductively dancing in front of him. A white dress shirt covers his broad shoulders and the rolled-up sleeves showcase strong, thick arms.

  He’s the most attractive man I have seen in real life. His lips are pulled into a confident smirk as his dark eyes trail over her body. I’m fascinated with him, drawn to him, and can’t pull my eyes away.

  I watch him as he drinks and laughs with the people around him. A server comes out with a cake topped with a single sparking candle. She places it in front of him as his friends start to sing “Happy Birthday” to him.

  “Happy Birthday, Pierce!” one of the guys yells. “To many more!”

  I now have a name to the handsome face I can’t look away from. Girls lean into him, kissing him and whispering in his ear. I wish I had their confidence and freedom. I long to be one of the women on his arm tonight.

  Pierce leans over and when he blows out the single candle, sparks of light fill the sky. Colors explode above us. I stare wide eyed. I have never seen fireworks before. They are beautiful and loud. Colorful and so bright I have squint. The loud booms send vibrations through my body.

  I pull my gaze away from the show to find the attractive man in the crowd. The lights and colors reflect off his face as he watches the sky. My attention is pulled away by a flurry of motion by the stairs.

  The sound of a different kind of explosion rings in the night, almost disguised by the fireworks. I know very well from growing up with my dad.

  Screams echo in my ears as darkness covers the rooftop and bullets whip through the night air.

  chapter two

  shiloh

  CHAOS ERUPTS AROUND me. With the flashes of light, I can see shadows of people fleeing. A familiar sense of fear mixed with calmness washes through me. Violence is a something I’ve learned to overlook in my household. I just need to stay invisible.

  I duck low to the ground, moving so I can press my back against the bar. Partially hidden behind a bar stool, I watch as everyone around me panics. Most of the people are rushing for the stairs that lead downstairs. The fireworks still grace the sky above us, drowning out the screams.

  Another shot echoes. My eyes snap toward the sound, and I catch sight of a familiar face. I have seen him around the house before with my father. The hair stands on my arms when I start to realize just how bad this is. His heavy boots stomp past me, toward where the birthday party had been just moments before. The smell of smoke wafts behind him, his gun is held near his thigh. People wisely scatter in his path until the rooftop is almost empty. I carefully crawl behind the bar, peeking my head around to watch the shooter.

  “Stand up,” he demands.

  Pierce pushes himself up off the floor, holding onto his bleeding shoulder. His chest moves slowly as he struggles to breathe through the pain. I can see the fierce anger and hate in his eyes even from across the dance floor.

  “So nice of you to come visit me on my birthday, Vic,” Pierce hisses. “I assume I have you to thank for the fireworks?”

  “Let’s go, Pierce,” the man named Vic says, raising his gun.

  I clench my hands at the helplessness I feel watching Pierce calmly approach the armed man. He’s bleeding but seems more annoyed than in pain. His eyes quickly flick to the doorways as a few more men dressed in all black emerge.

  I can see it in his eyes. The moment he realizes whatever escape he had planned is ruined. His shoulders tense and his jaw clenches. Pierce’s fists come up, but he isn’t quick enough. He’s tackled and pinned to the ground.

  “You never know when to give up, do you?” Vic asks as they cuff Pierce.

  “Fuck you,” Pierce growls, spitting blood at their feet.

  I
duck behind the bar as they wrestle him and start to drag him toward the elevator. I listen to the struggle, my heart breaking. I don’t know Pierce, but I don’t want him to be killed tonight. No one should die on their birthday.

  Taking off my heels, I wait until I hear the elevators door shut and race down the stairs, skipping the main level, heading straight to the basement.

  These men are hired muscle. They do the dirty work for powerful people like my father. They are paid to do a job and get out without getting caught. I’ve secretly watched enough similar beat-downs in our own basement to know this.

  I hide in the stairwell until I hear their footsteps echo in the underground parking garage.

  “Put him in the back,” someone calls out. The sound of a car door opening then slamming shut follows.

  “A driver will come for him.”

  I listen as car engines start and the sound slowly fades as they make their exit. My breath comes in shaky sputters as I push open the door. I pray my instincts are correct and Pierce is still here. The gunmen need to escape quickly and would prefer not to have the man they attacked with them if they get caught.

  Only a single black SUV remains in the garage. I sigh in relief and sprint over to it. I don’t know how much time I’ll have until someone arrives to pick up Pierce. I rip open the back hatch and gasp. Pierce is bloodied and cuffed in the back of the SUV. I freeze looking at him. I could get myself killed if I help him. Chances are whoever put him back here is on my family’s side and Pierce is the enemy. I should be running away.

  “Let me go,” he rasps, startling me.

  “I can’t,” I whisper, my throat tightening. I start to back away. “They’ll kill me.”

  “I can give you anything you’ve ever wanted,” he promises. “Let me go and I promise I can protect you. I will do whatever you want.”

  My heart pounds with the possibilities. Pierce is no doubt powerful and wealthy to find himself in this position in the first place. He is either a threat to someone just as powerful or he betrayed someone more dangerous than himself.