A Beauty So Cruel Manuscript (2)

by Alone Eagle

  “I killed one of my men. My right hand. One of my best men,” Vlad said slowly.

  Had he expected me to apologize?

  I sure as hell wasn’t going to.

  “He didn’t belong in your room,” he finished saying.

  Then, he tucked his gun behind his back again.

  I exhaled with relief that he wasn’t going to kill me.

  Then, he spoke again.

  “Now tell me, sweet Dahlia. Who the fuck sent you?”

  17

  Chapter 17

  Vlad stared at Dahlia waiting for an answer.

  He had been heading toward her room to check up on her, but then he’d heard voices coming from the balcony. He’d been quiet as he entered, and found Dahlia slamming her forehead into Leo’s.

  Vlad’s eyes had widened, but then his attention had narrowed in on the scene.

  How does she know how to fight like that?

  He hadn’t stopped watching her. She’d moved like lightening. Her instincts and reflexes were quick and trained. There weren’t any jerky movements about her. She hadn’t even screamed when Leo had punched her shoulder. She’d taken it like a champion, as if it couldn’t stop her.

  He’d never seen her fight like that before.

  And she never even gave me a glimpse until now.

  And here she stood before him, her eyes widening as stared up at him.

  “What do you mean?” she asked him with innocent eyes.

  When, he had first met her, he’d assumed this beauty was reserved, but sweet and innocent. There was nothing innocent about the lightening girl he’d just seen in action. He knew obviously Leo provoked her. He’d come into her room, undesired and uninvited, and Vlad had put him down.

  In a way he was happy Dahlia pushed Leo off the balcony, but he hated that he couldn’t torture Leo himself.

  Torture.

  It made him pause. He usually stayed away from torturing people himself. He had always given orders… to Leo. The irony was not lost on him.

  Now the need to inflict prolonged severe pain on Leo, who was already dead, overwhelmed him. He’d liked seeing Leo in pain when he had shot him with the purpose of making him suffer. He didn’t recognize this foreign feeling.

  Leo had been getting out of hand. He’d seen it for himself when Leo had touched Dahlia the first time. It made his blood boil that the same guy had tried to harm her again. Yet another of his men. She was his captive. Why the fuck didn’t people understand that?

  Vlad blew out the breath he’d been holding, focusing on Dahlia. He wanted to blame her for these foreign feelings, for stirring up trouble, but she hadn’t asked for any of this. She was the one who was bruised and bleeding. Again.

  He focused on his words and not her injuries.

  “The way you fight requires special training… You fought a made man, a man from the mob. You have five seconds to tell me who you are,” he replied slowly.

  Dahlia swallowed hard before she rushed out, “I did special martial arts training. It’s not a big deal. I’m an orphan. I’ve always lived alone, and I learned to defend myself.”

  He was awfully suspicious of her now.

  Was she lying to me all along?

  He crossed his arms over his chest, putting on a hardened face and fiery, angry eyes on hers. He narrowed his eyebrows with annoyance and feelings of frustration. Then, he trailed his eyes down her body.

  Even though she was still wearing her flimsy white gown and robe, he could see the outline of her hips and her erect nipples poking through the fabric. They had hardened, probably from the cold weather. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and he wondered if she wore panties. The nightie was shorter than her last black one.

  Oh yes, he’d noticed them.

  This one ended at her thighs, exposing her bare shapely legs to him. More than ever, he wanted them wrapped around him. Bloodlust filled in his veins, pumping after the rush of killing someone. He swallowed at the sight of her. It made his pecker stand up to full attention. He forced himself to look her in the eyes again.

  “If you tell me where it is, you can keep your clothes on.”

  “Where is what?” Dahlia asked, eyes wide, and breathing heavier.

  “The tracker.”

  Dahlia’s mouth dropped open and she protested, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  He filled the distance between them furious with her. He didn’t like liars and he hated betrayal more than anything else. He’d clearly been too lenient with her..

  “Clothes off, Doll,” he ordered. “You’ve got something hidden.”

  When she didn’t listen to him, he didn’t give her a second warning. He kept himself cold and closed off. The last time, he had touched her, in front of his father, he had reassured her, but he no longer gave a shit now. He shouldn’t have been protecting her all along. He’d assumed she was a defenseless girl who was caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.

  A victim.

  But she seemed to have never needed his protection all along, had she taken him for a fool? He didn’t like it when someone played him. There would be consequences now.

  This is who I really am.

  A chill ran down his spine, as the blood in his ears whooshed and pumped fast through his veins. His touch was dominating and forceful. He gave a solid tug and pulled her robe off, ignoring her protests. Then, in one swift movement, her nightie was pulled down too. A voice warned him in the back of his mind that Leo had just attacked her. Assaulted her. But Vlad wasn’t attacking her. He was just doing what he was trained to and should have done in the first place. Searching. Hunting. To sniff out rats.

  “Vlad!” she whined.

  He was surprised she wasn’t fighting him.

  “Don,” he corrected her.

  His eyes took in her form briefly before resting on her face. Arousal stirred within him, but he forced himself to keep his eyes up. His breath hitched now.

  Goosebumps were on her skin, and they did something to him. She stood before him only in her panties. The nightgown and robe piled at her feet, bunched up. Then, he looked away, swallowing with difficulty. He was only doing this to find the tracker. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

  “What?” Dahlia hissed at him.

  He glanced at her sharply. “It’s Don.”

  She tried to cover up her luscious bare tits, but all he said was, “It’s not like I haven’t seen them before, Doll.”

  She scrunched her nose up at him in annoyance.

  “I’ve tasted them too,” he murmured, drawing a soft gasp from her.

  He hid a smile from her. His gaze left her face, sweeping over her body, keeping the lust away from his eyes and his touch. He needed to find that damn microchip.

  He was well-aware of how she looked right now. This time she wasn’t wearing lingerie. It was white cotton. Plain. She looked like an angel waiting to be slayed by the beast. Her face burned with embarrassment under his scrutinizing gaze.

  He turned her around swiftly, making her gasp in surprise. He parted her long curtain of a hair aside and searched the back of her neck. It was clean. His hands ran over her smooth back, legs, arms, and her taut and flat stomach still searching for it. Her body was so warm now, despite the freezing wind from the open balcony door. He could feel her heat through his pants leg where her thigh was pressed against his. She was soft everywhere, and he was trying not to like it too much. Then, he turned her back around, facing him, and his hands found her tits, and she held in her breath, meeting his eyes. She wasn’t moving and stayed still.

  Why isn’t she stopping me, like she stopped Leo?

  He ran his hands over them, looking at her body, but not really noticing. He tried feeling for a hard spot, something that felt odd instead of soft. All he found was skin. Then, his hand slid downward into her cotton panties. She let out a small whimper, but her eyes held his, though he couldn’t read the expression.

  Her skin was flushed, and her doe-like eyes were wid
e and glazed over. Her hands no longer pushed him away, and only gripped his shoulders to steady herself. When his hands brushed against her wet clit, she stiffened against him. He almost hissed out a breath.

  Is she aroused?

  His hand was large and calloused, probably rough against her soft silkiness. He knew people hid trackers there, he had to check. Her heat made it easier to slip a finger inside of her. Her muscles clenched on it, pulling him in.

  He gritted his teeth.

  A small yelp left from her mouth. Dahlia clamped her arms around his neck as he leaned in to check deeper. Her bare breasts brushed against his shirt, as she held on.

  He could feel them through the fabric. He had to stifle a groan of her pressed against him. Her scent was of jasmine and roses and its femininity overwhelmed him. He kept his touch feather light. It didn’t feel like a search, but more of a caress.

  In prison, they checked a prisoner’s ass crack to see if they hid something there. He hesitated before sighing in his mind, and then reaching his finger toward the back of her round, perky ass. He needed to confirm. She made a small noise but stayed still while he checked there also.

  “You’re clean,” he said, stopping the search and stepping away.

  There wasn’t a spot on her that was untouched.

  Dahlia withdrew her arms from his neck, and he missed the warmth of her.

  He turned to leave, to calm his breathing, and hide his throbbing bulge from her.

  “I told you I was!” she shouted at him. “Couldn’t you have a woman strip search me?”

  Vlad’s back stiffened then he turned around, his gaze meeting hers. He raised an eyebrow at her before saying, “Natalie and the other kitchen workers aren’t trained to search for a tracker. It was

  either me or my men. Which would you prefer?”

  She bit her lip and didn’t reply.

  He only shook his head. “I thought so.”

  Vlad held in a breath as his gaze traveled across her tits.

  Noticing his gaze, she folded her arms in front of her chest.

  His eyes wandered to her most intimate area. It was covered, yet he could still feel her under her fingertips now. He remembered she was wet when he touched her.

  He didn’t leave now.

  His gaze lingered on her.

  It didn’t linger when he touched her the last time. This time, he was taking his fill. She tightened her thighs, clenching them, and his heated eyes widened with acknowledgement. He knew he affected her. He bothered her. Her cheeks warmed like pink roses, and her breathing was getting heavier by the second.

  “You’re staring,” she decided to call him out, crossing her arms over her chest, hiding the view from him.

  Her voice was low and soft as if she had difficulty speaking.

  “What are going to do about it?” he challenged her, his lip curving upward.

  Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened at him.

  He was having too much fun, playing with her, enjoying the chase. He was going to leave, but then he changed his mind.

  “Fight me, Doll,” he ordered instead looking at her again, and coming closer to her. She inched back from him, not hitting him. He took a step closer to her, and she only stepped back, stepping further away from him.

  Soon, there was no way to go, and her bare legs hit the bedframe. She stopped, caged now, her eyes darting around for an escape. Her legs stayed glue to the spot. He didn’t know why she wasn’t hitting him.

  “Hit me,” he ordered her again, but more sternly this time.

  He moved closer again, she couldn’t step back again any further and fell on the silky bed sheets with a thud.

  “Come on, fight me,” he said again.

  No response came from her.

  Dahlia’s pink lips were parted as she stared up at him, dropping her arms from her frontal area, and gripping the sheets instead. Those amber eyes were heavy as she gazed at him. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her skin was flushed and pink, and her raven black hair a tangled mess around her.

  She was stunning and chaotic.

  Simple yet complex.

  Innocent yet scarred.

  Angelic yet dark.

  Not an ounce of makeup, and her skin was already dewy and glowing.

  A beautiful disaster.

  He dropped down, hovering above her, and pulled her ankle toward him, dragging her until her knees hit his. He stepped in between her thighs. Heat came from her skin, threatening to consume them both.

  Dahlia let out a surprised gasp, but she didn’t resist him in any way. She rested on her elbows, and her tits heaved heavily as she struggled to control her breathing.

  His gaze dropped down to her perfect tits that seemed to grow heavier and fuller under his ravenous gaze. Her skin flushed pink everywhere now, and she licked her lips. Her eyes were glazed over as she took him in, like she was tempting him.

  Fuck, why wasn’t she stopping him?

  Her nipples were hard. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was the chilly wind that still seeped from the open balcony door. He liked how her dark pink areoles contrasted against her fair skin. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, own every part of her, take her without stopping until she was too sore to walk straight the next day.

  He’d wanted to since day one.

  “Last chance, Doll. Fight me,” he said softly, meeting her heated eyes.

  She only pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to say something but decided at the last moment to keep quiet. He wanted to smile.

  “Why’d you kill Leo?” Vlad whispered, dragging his nose across her neck, inhaling her sweet, seductive scent. He wanted to pull her closer, feel her nails against his skin as he pressed her deeper and further into the sheets.

  Dahlia sneaked glance at him, her full rose bud lips parted. She darted a tongue out to lick her lips nervously. He almost groaned at the sight. He wanted to replace her tongue with his own.

  She was a temptation.

  A beautiful, sweet, yet devious temptation.

  “I didn’t want him to touch me,” she murmured, looking away.

  Is that so?

  “What am I doing now that’s so different from Leo that I’m still alive?” he asked softly leaving peppered touches from her spine to her waist.

  She arched her back under his touch, her tits rising, and a tiny noise slipped out of her mouth. Dahlia looked up at him quickly, embarrassed before averting her eyes.

  He still hadn’t kissed her.

  There was no reply from her end, but her cheeks had turned crimson now. She exhaled a breath and gripped the sheets more tightly. She didn’t touch him, as if she was fighting to keep control. Her hands were by her sides. She wasn’t hiding herself from him anymore either as she still rested on her elbows.

  “I didn’t like his touch,” she replied after a moment.

  Do you like mine?

  He placed his scorching, burning lips to her heated skin, right in the middle of her long neck. She tilted her head back to give him more access. His mouth trailed down to the swells of her tits, leaving small kisses. He avoided her nipples purposefully and left kisses between her breasts, moving further down like an arrow until he reached her stomach. She shuddered against him and reached for him, but then she paused, her hand hovering in mid-air.

  Her conflicted, torn eyes stared up at him.

  Then, he pulled back, touching her bleeding forehead with his fingers. He leaned in closer, resting his forehead against hers, gently, careful not to hurt her.

  “Do something about that cut, then go to sleep Doll. You’ve had a rough night,” he said hoarsely, using every ounce of his willpower to pull himself away.

  When he stood up, distancing himself from her warm, nude body, Dahlia looked up at him in confusion.

  Before he turned around to leave, he said in a stern, dangerously low voice, “If I do find out you have betrayed me, you’ll wish that I had killed you when I had met you.”

  Then, he exited her
room, leaving her lying on the bed, her mouth wide-opened with shock.

  18

  Chapter 18

  I was outside once again because I had nothing better to do.

  Natalie had told me it was the beginning of April now.

  I eyed the gate suspiciously, wondering what the safest way would be to escape. The gates seemed heavy and they were high… too high. It would be too hard to climb up them. As I walked through the path, I noticed the two men that stood outside the gate. Two watchdogs. I could see a camera blinking at me, and I caught the red flash.

  I wondered who was watching me.

  Without thinking, I waved at the camera, Like hello, I’m here and I’m not running.

  I was pretty sure the person watching the security feed would be baffled at my behavior.

  I turned away, covering a giggle. Perhaps the constant isolation was making me go a little crazy.

  I retreated to the path to the entrance.

  My footsteps ruined the white blankets, making me sad that I was destroying their beauty. The snow slushed under my high purple boots. The snow had stopped falling today, but after the heavy snowfall in the past couple of weeks, it had made this place look like a Winter Wonderland. Even the withered oak tree, rose garden, and grass were decorated like in a wintry fairytale.

  Maybe, if it was a better situation, I might have felt like a princess. Sometimes, this felt like a fantasy come true. A palace. Servants. Luxury like I’d never experienced before, but then I remembered this reality came at a price. I tried not to dwell on it daily, but slowly a piece of me was left behind with every day that passed. The more I stayed here, I more I was getting lost in where I was.

  I sneaked a glance at the gate. At the exit.

  The one place I could never cross. The metal gilded cage looked overwhelming from a distance.

  I glanced down at my feet and blew out a breath in the cool air, watching my warm breath turn into vapor. I tried to smile to myself, but I failed miserably. I inhaled the air deeply and hoped for better. Maybe the snow was a fresh new page waiting for me to decorate it. I tried to tell myself these things every day, trying to find hope in small things. I wasn’t dead or raped. My sanity was still sound, but I found myself losing an internal battle.