by Sienna Parks
I pull on a pair of Cons, grab my keys, and head out to look for her, starting with the concierge downstairs.
“She left a couple of hours ago, Mr. Fitzgerald. She had a bag with her, big enough for a change of clothes, but no more. She didn’t look very happy. I asked her if she was okay, but I don’t think she even heard me. I’m sure the valet got her a cab, so you could ask him. He might know where she was headed.”
I thank him for his suggestion and make my way outside to find the valet.
“I only started my shift an hour ago. The guy that was here already left for the night. Sorry.”
Fuck. I have no idea where to begin. We’ve spent so little time together in New York, it’s not like we have very many regular haunts that I could check. The last time we spent a few weeks together here, she was injured. We basically moved between her place, mine, and Andromeda. I can’t believe I never thought of it; she’s probably at her place. She still has most of her clothes there, and all of her home comforts.
I jump in a cab and head for her apartment. I don’t have a key, but her doorman knows me well enough to let me in without disturbing her. My phone starts ringing and I’m scrambling to get it out of my pocket, anxious to talk to Vittoria, but when I see the screen, I’m totally deflated. It’s the club. I don’t have time for them just now, I need to find Vittoria. I send it to voicemail just as we pull up in front of her building. I throw some bills at the driver, my focus solely on getting to her as quickly as possible.
As I stride through the lobby towards the elevators, the doorman calls after me. “She’s not here, Mr. Fitzgerald. She hasn’t been here in months. I thought she was with you.”
“Shit! Where the fuck is she?” I can feel the panic building as I contemplate the numerous scenarios that involve her leaving me, or worse, trying to finish what she started in Budapest. I try calling again, but it goes straight to voicemail… again.
“Baby, when you get this, call me back. I need to know you’re safe.”
As soon as I hang up, I decide it’s time to call Addi.
“Hi, Logan. I’m sorry sweetie, but Carter doesn’t want to speak to you.”
“I don’t give a fuck about him right now. I mean… fuck it. I don’t have time for this. Have you seen Vittoria?”
“Not since we were at your apartment.” And then it dawns on her. “What’s going on?” Her voice sounds panicked. “What happened? Is she okay?” She loves Vittoria, and I know that she’s been worried about her.
“Honestly, Addi. I don’t know. Things have been so strained between us ever since she got out of rehab. Even before that. From one day to the next I don’t know whether she’s happy or sad, or whether things are good between us or not. I thought we were moving forward, but I came home tonight and there’s no sign of her. I’ve left her messages, and had no reply. She wasn’t at her apartment, and I don’t know where to start looking.”
“What about places that she used to dance? Maybe she would go to one of them to think, to try and process everything?”
“Yeah, maybe. It’s a start. I don’t have any other ideas.”
“Do you want us to help you look? I can call Carter. I know things are shit between you at the moment, but he still loves Vittoria… and you.”
“Give me half an hour. If I haven’t found her by then, I’ll call Xander and you can get Carter involved. I don’t want to worry everyone if she’s just disappeared off shopping and got her phone on silent.”
“Fair enough. Half an hour. Let me know the minute you find her.”
“I will.”
“And Logan…”
“Yeah?”
“For the record, I think that you and Vittoria were made for each other. I know from experience that dating a de Rossi can be a roller coaster at times, and comes with its fair share of heartache. But, I can also tell you, that when everything finally falls into place, and the drama subsides, it’s so worth it. Hang in there. I don’t care what you’re into, I always knew you were a kinky bastard.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re great for her… when she lets you in. You’re a good man, and I love you to bits. And so does my stubborn ass husband.”
Her tender words are a much-needed balm; soothing my anguished crisis of confidence. “Thanks, Addi. I needed that.”
“Thought you might. Now go find her, and tell her I’m going to kick her ass for scaring the crap out of us!”
“It’s a deal! And Addi…”
“Yeah.”
“I love you, too. I hope you know that.”
“I do. You big softy.”
I hang up, feeling a little lighter. It’s comforting to know that someone out there is championing me, willing Vittoria and I to succeed and find our own happy ending.
My phone goes off, and yet again, I’m disappointed that the club is calling. I ignore it, and head off in the direction of Julliard. If Vittoria has gone anywhere to think about what she’s lost in recent months, it’s there. She lived and breathed that place for years, and it’s where I first saw her perform.
I search every corridor, asking teachers if they’ve seen her, and every one of them wanted to stop and chat, desperate to hear how their favorite student is doing. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that she can’t dance anymore, and I didn’t think she would want them to know. She’s not ready for the barrage of sympathy she would inevitably encounter. She’s so loved, by so many people. I wish she could see it.
I step back out onto the sidewalk, dejected, and running out of ideas. Taking my phone out in defeat, I’m ready to ask everyone that loves her, to help me find her and bring her home, but before I press the call button for Addi, I receive an incoming call from… the club. Again? What the hell is going on there tonight? They’re obviously not getting the hint that I’m not available.
“This better be fucking good. I’m busy and I don’t have time for whatever shit you want me to do.”
“Master Fitzgerald.” It’s Jacob, the chief of security for Andromeda. He doesn’t sound good at all.
“Jacob. What’s going on?”
“It’s about Miss de Rossi.”
“What about her?”
“She’s here.”
Thank fuck for that! She’s okay. “Did she come looking for me? Show her to my playroom and I’ll be there in ten minutes to pick her up.”
“There’s no easy way to say this. She’s didn’t come looking for you. She came looking for Master Liam. She’s in his playroom…”
I cut him off before he says anything else. “FUCK!” I shove my phone in my pocket and start running in the direction of the club. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!!” I’m smacking into people left and right, sprinting through crowds of angry New Yorkers, cursing and gesturing at me as I weave in and out, looking for any space that will get me there quicker. My brain is going a mile a minute, unable to come up with any scenario where this isn’t exactly what it seems like. How the fuck could she do this to me? After everything we’ve been through. She’s my fucking submissive! MINE!
I run out in front of cars, with no regard for my safety, taxis honking their horns at me to get out of the way, but I couldn’t care less. There’s only one feeling coursing through my veins right now – all-consuming rage. It fuels me; propelling me through the sea of people around me, my legs moving faster than ever before.
When I hit the block that houses Andromeda, I’m filled with dread, at what I’m about to see, and what I’m about to do.
NO submissive, not even Vittoria de Rossi can disrespect me like this and walk away unscathed. And as for Liam - he’s a fucking dead man.
I have never felt such anger in all my life. Not when my dream of getting a deal burned to ashes in front of my eyes; not even in Paris. This is something completely different, this comes from somewhere much darker. I feel so overwhelmed by it, engulfed in it, that I can’t even see straight. COLD, ALL-CONSUMING, FURY!
I slam open the doors, and I can sense the change. This isn’t my safe h
aven anymore.
“Where the fuck are they?”
Jacob speaks calmly, as if that will help me in the slightest. “Master Liam is in his room. She’s in there with him.”
I act on instinct, my fist connecting with his jaw. “Why the FUCK would you let her go with him?”
He slowly wipes the blood from his lip before squaring his shoulders to stand a full four inches above me, but I’m not intimidated. He might be built like a wrestler, but the adrenaline fueling me right now would be more than enough to take him down. He shakes his head. “I’m going to let that one slide, Master Fitzgerald, but do it again, and I will take you out. You know I have no control over what happens in here, unless someone crosses the line. She came here looking for him. She went willingly into that room. I’m sorry that I’m the one telling you this, but don’t shoot the messenger.”
“FUCKING, FUCK!!! I need to see her. I hope you’re not going to try and stop me. She’s mine. No one touches what’s mine.”
He steps out of my way, letting me pass without another word.
The music and the crowds are white noise in the background. A distant soundtrack to my life falling apart. I feel their eyes on me; they all know she’s here. When I reach the door, I can feel the bile rise in my throat with the knowledge of what I’m about to see. I don’t knock. I bust the door open and all of my worst fears are confirmed. Vittoria is here. My Nyx… with another Master.
“What the FUCK is going on?”
Liam makes his way over to me, dressed in nothing but his loose-fitting pants. “It’s not what it looks like, Logan. Let me explain.” He tries to put his hand on my shoulder, but I dodge him and hit him with a jab to the stomach, winding him and knocking him to the floor.
“EXPLAIN??? Explain the fact that you are in here with MY submissive? How could you do this to me, Liam? I looked up to you. You’re my mentor. You trained me to be a Master. You know what that means, better than anyone. SHE’S MINE. NO ONE FUCKING TOUCHES HER BUT ME!”
I turn to Vittoria. She’s shackled to the St. Andrew’s Cross at the far end of the room. Metal restraints holding her arms and legs spread wide… for him. She’s dressed only in her underwear, her head hung in what I can only hope is shame. She’s sobbing, and all I want to do is comfort her, but the sight of her makes me feel physically sick.
I turn my attention back to Liam, who’s picking himself up off the floor. “Why? She’s mine.”
He’s angry that I got the best of him, I can see it in his eyes, and I watch as he changes into someone I don’t even recognize. “She was mine first. Who do you think trained her to be a submissive?”
This can’t be happening. Not Vittoria.
“That’s right, Logan. I’ve claimed every single inch of that beautiful body of hers. You can’t really blame me for wanting to revisit when she offered herself to me on a plate.”
I hear Vittoria’s voice slicing through the pain that is threatening to break me. “That’s not what happened, Logan. Please. Let me explain.”
I slowly turn my head toward her. My voice cold, calm, and devoid of any emotion as I respond. “Do not… ever… address me as anything other than Master Fitzgerald. You do not speak unless I give you permission. You will not even so much as lay eyes on me until I tell you otherwise. I can’t stand the sight of you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME… Miss de Rossi?”
I can see how much my words are hurting her, but it’s nothing compared to how I’m feeling. She drops her head, her voice a broken whisper. “Yes, Master Fitzgerald.” She continues to cry, tears streaming down her soft, flawless skin as I force myself to look away.
“I want the truth, Liam. Start talking NOW, or I will drag you out of here by your balls and beat the shit out of you in front of every submissive in this place. No woman will ever want such a pathetic excuse for a Master.
“That’ll make two of us.”
“You’re right. I probably can’t show my face in here ever again, but the difference between us, is that I don’t give a shit. The woman you decided to chain up in here tonight is mine. She’s the only woman that will ever be mine. I won’t let you or anyone else take her away from me.”
“Then you’re a fool, Logan. Look at her. She came here willingly. You deserve better than that from your submissive.”
“I know that.” Vittoria’s sobs intensify at my words, but I can’t risk a glance in her direction. I failed her in some way, or she wouldn’t be here. “The question is, do you want to suffer the same fate, Liam? Do you want to be able to show your face in here? If you do, then you better tell me the truth. What happened tonight?”
“Okay, okay.” He sits down on the couch behind him, his head resting in his hands, deflated. “Firstly, let me start by saying, I consider you a friend, and I was planning to explain everything to you, until you punched me. I was angry that you did that in front of her. She was important to me once… she still is.” I flinch at his admission. “She called me today and said she needed to talk. She sounded distraught. I was worried, so I told her to come. When she arrived, she was almost hysterical, begging me to punish her. Asking for the hard stuff.”
I don’t know how much more I can listen to.
“She said straight away that she didn’t want anything sexual. That she belongs to you, and that she would never have sex with another man. She kept saying repeatedly that her pleasure belongs to you. It was clear that she was unhinged. I told her that she should be speaking to you. She started shaking, telling me that you can’t know about it. That she doesn’t want you to know how bad she is. How broken and twisted she is. She wasn’t making sense. I know she’s been through a lot, but I also know you. You would never hold it against her. I can see how much you love her.” He sees my confusion. “She hasn’t told you, has she? What happened when she was young?”
She begins to thrash around, struggling against the restraints. “NO! Don’t. You can’t. He can’t know. I love him. I don’t want him to look at me that way.” I’ve never seen her like this before; so out of control, so scared.
“Logan, you need to talk to her. You need to know, otherwise, you’ll never be able to be the Master she needs.” I don’t know what to do with the anger I’m feeling right now. It’s suffocating me. “Nothing happened. I didn’t touch her. I thought about it. I really fucking wanted to, and she really seemed like she needed the release; the pain. But, I saw the disgust in her eyes as I tightened the restraints, and felt her flinch when my hands brushed against her skin. I knew it wasn’t me she wanted. She wanted to hurt herself, and I was her way out. I couldn’t do it. You’re not the only one that fell in love with her. That’s when I told Jacob to call you.” His revelation hangs heavy in the air. “I never wanted her to leave. When she found out that I was your mentor, that I trained you, she said she couldn’t be my submissive anymore. That was two years ago. I never got over her. You know how easy she is to love. Problem is, she never loved me back. I was only ever a coping mechanism for her. I see now that she told me everything, not because she loved me, but because she didn’t. She wasn’t worried about how I would look at her, or if my opinion would change.”
Her cries are burning a hole in my chest. The howls of a broken, vulnerable, animal. A primal cry for help.
“She’s different with you. You’re good for her.”
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be standing in here with you.”
“Logan. This isn’t a reflection of your skill as a Master. She has chosen to hold back a major part of who she is from you. Until she relinquishes that, and lets you in, you can’t help her. I know you’re strong enough for this.”
I hang my head, weak, broken, and completely lost. “I don’t feel it.”
“I’m not your mentor anymore. You surpassed me a long time ago. You were born to be a Master. Everyone at this club knows it. You need to own it. You’re letting your feelings for Vittoria get in the way of your basic nature. And ironically, that instinct is exactly what she needs from you right now.
You need to let go of the anger and talk to her.”
“I’m sorry I punched you, Liam.”
“Forgotten already. I would have done the same thing in your position. Punch first, ask questions later.”
“I need some time alone with her, to get her down off that fucking cross, and out of here.”
“Of course. I’ll leave you. Take as long as you need.”
He grabs his shirt, and walks out, leaving me in the silence of my own despair. Vittoria’s cries have subsided and she’s completely motionless. I make my way over to her tentatively, my heart breaking at the sight of her, at what I’ve pushed her to.
I don’t say a word. I can’t. I start working on her restraints, kneeling before her to remove the ones from her legs first; livid at the marks left on her skin where she struggled against the metal. When I stand to loosen the wrist restraints, I lift her chin with my finger, forcing her to look at me. I don’t see hate, or regret, or love in her eyes. Her stare is blank, cold, and terrifying. She seems almost catatonic. I make short work of freeing her arms, her body slumping against mine for support. She can’t stand on her own, she can’t function. Panic rises inside of me. I don’t know if I can do this. If I can pull her back from the brink. I hold her tight, fighting hard to suppress my anger, and replace it with compassion.
I lift her up into my arms, her body limp, her head dropping down onto my chest. I lay her down on the bed and grab her clothes off the floor. A sharp pain stabbing at my heart. I dress her quickly, but she doesn’t even look at me. Lifting her carefully back into my arms, I stride out into the hallway, and everyone stops to stare as I walk through the main room. It feels like every set of eyes is on us, but I have more important things to worry about. All I can think of is getting her out of here, getting her home. What happens then? I don’t know.