Pulling into the old plantation home’s circular drive in Louisiana, Donavan Davis called this home for three years. It was a drastic change from his family’s home in Kansas. No snow cover mountains, no smell of a winter storm brewing. Instead, the scent of spice in the air and the sound of jazz would comfort him to sleep. At 49 years old, he no longer needed the shroud of his family to protect him. He had built a solid foundation of his own.
“Where is she?” a low growl came forth, hinting that the male was not in a mood for games. He was getting word from his father about the disappearance of his step-sister. It did not shock Donovan that she landed on his doorstep. He expected it. Where else would she go?
Pointing to the hall, the housekeeper looked surprised by the teen’s arrival at the home. Lilith, the 64-year-old woman who cared for most of the household duties, looked frightened. She was use to the Master of the house demands, but never had she seen fury in his eyes. Excusing herself, she would busy herself in another part of the home till this blew over.
He dropped his keys on the foyer table. The sound of his boots leaving hard footfalls on the walnut floors was heard through the old home’s walls. It wasn’t till he stood at the entrance to the family room did they stop. Standing at 6-foot-4, Donovan made his presence known each time he walked into the room.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?
His voice boomed through the house. Echo’s bouncing from wall to wall. The other inhabitants forewarned to stay out of his view today.
Sitting in the middle of the room was his step-sister, Lily. The last of 5 children, she was the one with the wild streak. All the other girls had done their female duty and married at age 18 and had families built. This one, though, she felt the world owed her a favor, and she deserved more than she got. If you were born with a cunt in the Davis family, you shut your fucking mouth and do as told.
Speaking, she barely got out a word before lifting from the floor by the back of her shirt and placed in a chair. Donovan held his large hand in a backhanding motion. One strike across her face produced a trickle of blood down her chin. The soft lower pillow in which she had stained with some cheap lipstick, now swelled.
“Do not open your fucking mouth. You have your father sending out search parties and your Mother crying. What the hell are you thinking?” he yelled.
With each word he spoke, more forceful than the other, Donovan knew his parents had their hands full with this one. Life in the Davis home was not what the typical child had, but his father built his empire and family on old school traditions. Donovan Davis was a devout Mormon who lived by the thought process that a man was always king. Women were second-class citizens, and children are not seen nor ever heard.
Lily felt she deserved more out of life. A cell phone, the newest fashions, a car, and the freedom to date. You do not date if you are female. The older males choose a husband, and you get married. Simple as that. A woman is good for keeping a house and making babies.
Standing, the female would find herself held by the neck, pressed firmly to a wall, and the judge and jury sealing her fate.
“Your mine now. Father doesn’t want you back. He said, keep the fucking slut and sell her off to the highest bidder. Now we both know I will not do that, or will I?” Donovan laughed.
A smirk of amusement crossed his face as Donovan held her in place. She was his half-sister, but useless to the family. He could place her in the Brothel and sell her ass, send her to a contact he had in South America and get top dollar for her. He had other ideas for this one, though. If she thought her life was hard with her father, she just found herself in the pits of fucking hell, and he was the Gatekeeper.