Property Of a Millionaire

32. Property Of a Millionaire

Hey guys... Trigger Warning: Talks of Sexual Abuse, Molestation, and Pedophilia.... please beware ☹️

—-

Maximillion's Point of View

"Why him? Why did you choose him?" I know I probably asked about a thousand times but it pissed me off how he choose Malcolm instead of me.

"You know why, we were just getting back to normal, I guess, and I didn't want to bombard you with hundreds of questions." His voice was so sweet. He has his short attitudes and sassiness but that's what drove me crazy about him. After what happened, I just never wanted to let him go or stop hearing him talk. I want to spend every last minute of my days with him.

"Baby... you could've asked, I never get tired of hearing your voice. Ew sorry, I'm turning into you." He slapped my shoulder. I gripped his waist and pulled him closer to me, sniffing his hair and kissing his forehead. His little fingers trailed along with the outlines of my chest and lower abdomen.

"Max, can I ask you a serious question then?" I tensed up a bit. After spending so much time at my house together, Miles had asked me tons of questions about my family and what we've been doing for centuries.

"Of course Котенок (Kitten)."

"Your Uncle." Nope.

"Not a question." I mocked him.

"You're annoying," He laughed, "What's his deal, I can tell you two either don't like each other or something..." He began to lallygag when he realized that I was reluctant to answer. I knew I was going to, I just never wanted it to come so fast.

"It's more than a dislike between both of us. It began when something no uncle should ever do anyone, child, or a nephew of his own." I swallowed hard as he backed away a bit and looked into my eyes, fuck.

"I-um, it started when I was 6 years old. On my first day of 1st grade and I couldn't be more nervous, we had just moved to America and I knew English as if it was my native language but that wasn't my main concern. My parents just wanted me to excel no matter what; To always be number one, but my uncle, Maxim, never cared about me being ahead of everyone but being dominant and strong." I love the feeling of Miles playing with my ring. His soft fingers caressing the skin on my pinky and kissing it ever so sightly made my heart race.

"Anna and I would love to go to his house on the weekends. It was the only time we got away from the books and tutors and had some fun. It was the best and slowly became the worst time of my life. Since he had no wife or husband, we never had any cousins, so I used to think I was his favorite over Anna and now I know I was most definitely right." I felt myself choke up thinking about those years of my life. How scared, small, and stupid I was.

"Детка (Baby), are you ok? You don't have to continue." I loved it when he tried to speak Russian. He cared so much, he was willing to take classes and learn the language. He knew a few words, thanks to Annabelle, but I always kept one upon him. If I have to learn another language to call him pet names that he has no idea about, I would.

"I'm fine Котенок (Kitten), I need to tell you this anyways." I moved the loose curl out of his face and pushed it behind his minuscule ear. The apparent blush on his face shaped a smile on my own, he still gets nervous around me and I feel the same way.

"It was always at night, once everyone had gone to sleep, so had I. The door opens, and here walks in my uncle with his, um, his penis in his hand. At 6 years old, I never have seen a penis besides my own and in my anatomy textbook. I was so confused about what he was doing. He told me about a game, that little boys play with their uncles. A foolish game for a foolish boy." I squeezed my eyes shut when I felt the emotions that I had built a wall around started coming out. Miles sat up on the bed and took my head into his lap, it was a weird position for me, but it felt nice. He cradled my head and ran his fingers through my hair.

"No..." He started.

"Yes." I finished.

"I wasn't taught about sexual intercourse until 2 or 3 years after that because my parents didn't want to expose me too young. I regret not reading ahead and learning about it. I couldn't save myself from those heinous acts he committed on me. He had penetrated me for a decade until he couldn't tie me down and have his way with me. Luckily for me, being 6ft and weighing 190 pounds of muscle when I was sixteen, I made sure he wouldn't touch me that night or any other." I haven't cried since that night and when I noticed that Miles was wiping tears off my face, it's been 16 years since I've cried. What made my tears flow out, even more, was seeing his tear-stained face, pink rosy cheeks, and puffy eyes. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he focused on my face, wiping my pain away. He looked beautiful.

"I lost my innocence when I was 6 years old. I became a man at 6 years old. I changed into who I am when I was 6 years old. My parents just thought it was a phase that I was going through. Working out whenever I could, being quiet and distant from everyone, and growing up faster than normal." I spoke to no in specific. I know Miles was still listening even though his eyes were closed, he still had his hands tangled in my hair.

"I love you. That's what he repeated into my ears every night for those degrading ten years. I love you. I love you. I love you..." Those words pained me. Love meant almost nothing to me. How can you say you love someone and hurt them the same way Maxim did me? Or even the way Tyler did to Miles? I care for my family, Miles, and those who treated me like an actual person, but I don't think I could 'love' someone again.

His lips met mine. If he didn't I would've kept going down and used that pain to bring myself even further. Miles made me feel wanted, special, cared for. This was better than Love, knowing that someone truly cares for and about you, is exceptional.

"Max please stop. I'm so sorry that happened to you, I know anything I say probably doesn't help but I want you to know that I care for you. My heart, mind, body, and soul cares for you. I wish you would've told someone, I can't imagine you being 6 years old and having to deal with that, trying to bulk yourself up to fight against that disgusting man. I'm here now, let me help you, let me care for you." My chest tightened, my vision blocked with tears, and my breathing became uneasy.

"Argh, I fucking care about you so much! You're mine and I'm yours." I pulled him into a tight bear hug, he shrieked when my arms flew up to him and grabbed him, pulling him down into my chest.

"Детка (Baby)! I care for you." Those words will be the death of me. He cared for me. He truly cared for the real me. A broken man.

---