by Ella Miles
“Don’t stop,” she whimpers as I fuck her harder against the wall.
“Never,” I growl back.
I can’t stop. Even though I usually crave sex where I have all the power, I like tying women up. Making them suffer, causing them pain. Even though this is the complete opposite of that—it’s vanilla sex—it’s the best sex I’ve ever had.
“I…uh…” Nina says.
I won’t let her get words out. She can talk to me afterward. Right now, I want her body that is saying plenty to me.
I kiss her hard. I fuck her with everything I have, and I know it still won’t be enough. I’ll still crave her forever after tonight is over. I will never get enough.
What started out as her obsession with me has turned into my own ridiculous obsession with her. I don’t understand it or even how to make it stop, but I’m overcome by it.
Nina tugs at my lip again, and I get lost again as I fuck her. I watch her face change, and I know she will come soon and that I will come shortly afterward. I know we will both pass out and then do this again and again. But I know, soon, this will be over. This will end. And she’ll be gone. And what will be left of me?
“Do you paint anything other than your nightmares?” Nina asks, carefully choosing her words as she lies against my bare chest.
“Not usually, no.” I tense, not liking wherever this conversation is going. I don’t want her to cry again.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love them. I think they are very therapeutic for you, and it’s good to remember your darkest side, but you would be more balanced and maybe have a more positive outlook on the world if you also painted your dreams, too.”
I suck in a breath, trying to decide if I should show her or not. My heart races, and my body tenses.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, able to pick up on the changes in my body as easily as I’m able to pick up on how she is feeling.
“I want to show you something.”
She smiles and stands. I get up and take her hand, leading her toward my bedroom.
“You shouldn’t be nervous. I doubt there is anything you can show me that is worse than what I already know about you,” she teases.
I continue walking, ignoring her, which only makes her more nervous. I open the door, flip the switch, and lead her to the single painting in my bedroom.
She gasps when she sees it, immediately dropping my hand as she slowly walks over to the large mural.
I stand back, watching her, letting her take it in before I probe her to see what she thinks.
But she takes her damn time before saying anything, and I’m not a patient man.
“What do you think?”
“I think you should have been a painter instead of a debt collector, weapons dealer, and killer.”
I chuckle. “I know art, and it isn’t that good. It’s only good because of who I painted.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious? It’s amazing. I would do anything to be able to paint as well as you do.”
I shake my head. “What do you think about what I painted though?”
She bites her lip as she looks at me. “I think you are as obsessed about me as I am about you.”
My eyes deepen when she says that about the naked painting that I painted of Nina.
“So, am I your nightmare or dream?” she asks.
“A little of both.”
She grins. “Good.”
She turns back to the painting as I walk behind her and wrap my arms around her body. I can feel it the second that everything changes. And I prepare for her to finally ask what she’s been wanting to ask since she first came here.
“How does the game end?”
I suck in a breath because I still don’t know what to tell her.
She turns her head to look up at me. “I’ve figured out what the game is—or at least, I think I know.”
I nod, encouraging her to continue to tell me what she knows while I figure out how to save her from it.
“There have been women before me. Women who have been tricked into owing a debt to your family. And, once she is here, you and your brother play a game with her life. A game where she has to choose a winner between the two of you.”
I shake my head, realizing how close she is but also how far. I don’t know when I decide to tell her the truth or if I even really decide, but it all starts spilling out, and I can’t stop.
“We don’t trick the women. They owe us a real debt. That’s how we chose the seven women.”
“Seven? Why seven?”
“We needed an odd number. So, it would guarantee a winner.”
“Between you and Matteo?”
I nod.
“What are you playing for?”
“The winner will take our father’s place. He gets to become head of the family and will decide to continue the traditions started years before him—”
“Or not,” Nina finishes for me.
I nod.
“How do you win?”
“Enrico chooses the winner each round. The rules aren’t entirely clear, which makes it more difficult to win each round. You’re number seven, but up until this point, Enrico has basically given equal rounds to Matteo and me to ensure that we go the full seven rounds.”
“He wants you to be more like him.”
I nod.
“And have you?”
I take a deep breath. “With some of the women, yes.”
She frowns. “But not me?”
I shrug. “I’ve tried to make it look like I have with you.”
She looks away and walks out of my arms. “Enrico has been watching us with cameras, hasn’t he?”
I nod. “He has cameras in certain areas of the house that he watches.”
“Not here?”
“No.”
“Matteo’s rooms?”
“No.”
She takes a deep breath. “I remember.”
“What?”
“I remember that night you saved me. It’s taken me seven years of pushing the memories away, trying to pretend like they weren’t real, but I remember.”
My eyes widen. I wish she didn’t remember that night.
“I remember not being able to control my body. My muscles going weak. I remember not staying conscious for it all though. I was awake as Erick and Clive took me from the bar when you weren’t able to get to me. I remember the fear on your face as they dragged me out of the bar. You were devastated.”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep the feelings I felt that night at bay.
“I thought you were devastated because you knew what they were capable of. But you were equally devastated because you knew that my life would be no better off if you saved me.”
I feel the rage returning, billowing up inside me, the same feeling that I felt that night.
“I remember them trying to rape me. I remember you and your family barging in, guns drawn. I remember Clive saying that I was theirs, not yours. That you couldn’t do anything to save me. It would ruin the deal you had with them.”
My nostrils flare, and my whole body is on fire, thinking about it.
“You started firing. All of you, even Enrico, came to save me. I remember Enrico getting shot. Matteo was stabbed. You were the only one who wasn’t hurt. You got me out of there but not before they made threats against your family, against Gia.”
I can’t relive any more of the night. “Stop.”
Her eyes widen.
We both just stand for a while, looking at each other, both breathing heavily, both reliving that night.
“I remember signing the contract. It was just you and me. I was terrified. Traumatized. I thought I had just seen your brother and father die. Your sister’s life threatened. I was almost raped. You gave me the choice to sign, and I signed without a second thought. That was the last thing I remember. Signing.”
“You passed out from exhaustion after that.”
She nods.
We stare at each other a mo
ment longer.
“What I don’t understand is, why would you do that? Risk your whole family’s life for me? I know you needed a number seven, and I’m guessing you have saved other women from similar predicaments, only to be met with an equally bad situation. But why did you choose me? Why didn’t you just let them have me and rape me and, most likely, kill me?”
I don’t answer.
She takes a step toward me and looks me dead in the eye.
“Do you love me?”
I knew she would ask that question, too. She thinks I did it all because I love her. But she doesn’t understand that I am incapable of love. And, even if I was, she is better off with someone else. Someone good.
I didn’t do it because I loved her. I saved her because she’d saved me, and I couldn’t watch her die even if I was saving her then, only to watch her die now.
“What do you think?” I say, not answering her.
She takes a deep breath but doesn’t answer me.
“Why did you drink it? Why did you marry Heath? Why fuck my brother?”
She takes a step back, not answering me either.
But I answered all of her questions, except one. She needs to answer my questions now. I grab her arm and pull her back to me, firmly kissing her on the lips like it is the last time I’ll ever be able to.
She pulls away. “Because I was obsessed with you. I’ve always been obsessed when it comes to men. I like sex. I want the attention. Blame it on my deadbeat father who died a slow, torturous death after his drinking finally caught up with him.”
“Why did you marry Heath?”
“Because I loved him. I know you don’t understand it, but when I fall, I fall hard. I can’t always control it. Maybe part of it was the fear of being ripped away from my reality and needing something to keep me grounded. But, whatever it was, it felt a heck of a lot like love. It still does.”
I see the tears when she says it.
“Why did you fuck my brother?”
“Because I hated you. Because I wanted to get back at you. Because I thought I could make him love me if you wouldn’t.”
“And who do you want now? Who do you dream about at night? Who makes you obsessed?”
She sucks back her tears. “What do you think?”
I hate her answer. But it’s payback for my answer. And, honestly, I don’t think she can answer my question yet. We’ve played with her mind too much these past weeks. And I think she can be obsessed with more than one man at a time. I think, if she were to answer honestly, she would have to say all three of us: Heath, Matteo, and me for different reasons. But, if she could choose whom she wanted most, it would still be Heath. He’s the only one who hasn’t fucked her against her will. It will always be Heath.
“How does the game end?” she finally asks.
I know what she’s asking. Will she die? And it’s a question I can’t answer definitively. But, if I go off of what happened to the other women, then yes, she doesn’t stand a chance. Two killed themselves rather than deal with being someone’s slave. Three, my father killed. And one, I killed out of mercy. None of them even lasted a year even though they were all given the same length of time—seven years.
She sees the answer in my eyes, and her whole body slumps.
I walk over and wrap my arms around her, surprised that she will let me hold her when I just told her she will probably die and I won’t do anything to save her.
“You’re strong though. The strongest. You can survive.”
And then I kiss her because I need to feel her lips on me again. I don’t know how much time I have left with her. Another second. Another hour. Another day.
Or much longer. Weeks, months, years. But, now that I have one tiny bit of her heart, I will do anything to keep it for as long as I can.
23
Nina
I finally have the truth.
It’s what I’ve wanted this whole time. To know everything. Then, I would be on an equal playing field. But, now that I know everything, I’m afraid it was a mistake. I’m more terrified than I ever was before.
Arlo was terrified to tell me the truth. He was afraid it would break me. It would make me stop fighting. Or that he was effectively signing my death sentence by telling me all of the family secrets.
His fear made my fear worse.
But it’s easy to forget about all of that when I’m wrapped in his sexy arms, in his bed, and I haven’t dealt with any real pain in weeks. Both of the Carini brothers have done everything to take care of me these last few weeks. And my life has become pleasant, if not enjoyable. I’ve had plenty of food, plenty of company, and plenty of sex.
Enrico hasn’t returned, and I’ve been driven into a false sense of security. But last night changed all of that. I fucked them separately and got all of my questions answered. I can’t go back to just fucking them both. They won’t allow it. They will want me to choose one of them. And, if I don’t, what will happen?
I don’t know. But, whatever happens, going forward, a change is coming. And I’m afraid that change is never good.
I sit up in bed and feel my body ache from being fucked all night. It’s a good kind of soreness but one I’d rather sleep off while curled in Arlo’s arms for the foreseeable future. If I’m asleep, I don’t have to make decisions. Nothing has to change.
But I can’t face Arlo’s questions when he wakes up. So, I force myself to leave his arms and his bed. I get up and go to his closet to find a pair of pants and a T-shirt that smells the least like him that I can. His closet is a perfectly organized array of dark shirts and pants. There isn’t a single color outside of the gray or black family.
I grab a T-shirt and one of only two pairs of sweatpants and put them on before sneaking back out into his bedroom. I look back at him peacefully sleeping in the bed before turning my attention one last time to the painting of me. It’s strange—seeing such a beautiful painting of myself. I look strong, powerful, albeit a little bit sad. It’s how he sees me. I want to be that strong, powerful woman he painted. Maybe that woman has a chance to survive.
I walk out of his bedroom and stop one more time to look at all of his striking paintings that show so many feelings. I would have never thought of him as a painter. Just like I would have never imagined Matteo as a doctor before he stitched up Arlo and took care of me. But, now that I know this is who they are, I want to know more about them. Who are they really, and what have they been hiding about themselves from me and the rest of the world?
Instead of staying around to find answers, I leave Arlo’s safe haven and go back into the real world. Or, at least, the shitty world that I currently exist in. My stomach growls immediately, and I know the answer to where my first stop will be. I don’t have to worry about running into Matteo. Both brothers are night owls and rarely up before noon. The only time I’ve seen either of them up early is when their father is around.
I head to the kitchen where I scramble some eggs and make toast before taking my plate of food to the library. I haven’t spent nearly enough time there, and I want to get a few books to take with me while I hide out in my room for a while until I figure out my next plan. I enter the room and almost drop my plate when I see Gia sitting in the corner of the room.
She glances over at me when I enter, but she doesn’t really look at me. She looks through me.
I haven’t seen her since the first day I came here. She’s kept her distance, and I’ve spent most of my time in one of her brother’s beds.
I don’t know what to do. Should I go talk to her? Should I ignore that she’s here? Turn and walk back out?
I choose to continue on with what I’m doing and ignore that she is here. If she wants to talk to me, she will. Otherwise, I should leave her alone. I don’t want to cause her any more pain than I already have.
I walk over to the mystery section of the library and pick up the first couple of books that look interesting. I take them over to the small chair in the corner to look through while I
eat my breakfast. Reading a mystery might help me get some ideas of how to get out of the current mess I’m in or at least keep my mind occupied for a little while.
“You made a mistake,” Gia says.
I look up from the book I was staring at, and I wait for her to say more.
“You shouldn’t have gone after both of them.”
I frown. “I didn’t.”
She laughs. “Of course you did. Don’t think I didn’t watch you. I know everything that happened. I know you were fucking both of them, hoping that one of them would fall in love with you.”
I sigh. I don’t know whether to be nice or mean to her. “It worked. They both fell for me.”
She shakes her head and goes back to staring out the window. But, now that she started, I have to know why she thinks it was a mistake.
“Why was it a mistake?” I ask.
Gia sharply turns her head back to me. “You ruined my life! You know that? I shouldn’t help you. It’s because of you that I’m always locked up in this house. I hardly ever get to go anywhere, and if I do, it has to be with a full security team. I’m a prisoner in my own house. All because Arlo had to save you, and now, I’ve had to live my life, always worrying if Erick or Clive or any of their men are out to get me. Ready to steal me at any second.”
My heart breaks. She’s lived my life for the last seven years almost exactly like I did. The difference is that I ran while she has been hiding. I got kidnapped while she’s still safe—for now.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice genuinely sorry for her. I would never wish my predicament on anyone, and it seems that Gia is living the same nightmare that I was. “If I could go back in time and make a different decision, I would. But I can’t. At least you have men who want to protect you. They will do anything to keep you safe. At least your prison is beautiful and with family. At least you haven’t been stolen.”
I wish I knew how to help her, but there is really nothing I can do. And it’s clear she doesn’t think I’m worth saving.
I take my stack of books, and I get up, intending to leave her alone, when she says, “You made a mistake in trying to get them both to go after you. You should have chosen just one. Now, they are both in love with you. Feelings that neither of them has ever experienced before. You can’t have them both. They will fight each other to make you theirs and destroy everyone in the process.”