Ensnared: The Mafia's Prisoner (Book One) (A Dark Mafia Romance)

by Raven Dark

  He leads the way up the stairs to my room and opens the door, nodding inside. “Wait in here, please.”

  I gulp. Everything in me screams to find some way to escape whatever will happen next, but I know there’s no point. I’d made my decision. Now I’ll have to live with it.

  As soon as I step in, the doors shut softly, making me jump. There’s a click; he’s locked me in.

  Well, my freedom lasted a long time, didn’t it? Less than twelve hours, and I’m locked in this room all over again. Waiting for Michael to do who knows what to me when he realizes what I’ve been up to.

  My breaths come out in shaky rasps.

  God, you’re so stupid, Aurora. So, so stupid.

  Feeling as if I’m in a fog, I cross the room to the window and look out past the desolate front garden covered in snow to the icy roads beyond the gate without really seeing them. My hands are shaking.

  I can’t get in that much trouble for looking at gorgeous vehicles that are clearly meant to get attention, could I? That doesn’t automatically mean I was trying to escape. But Adrian said I wasn’t supposed to leave the house. That hadn’t been the same impression Katerina gave me. My mind scrambles to remember the exchange between us. Had I misunderstood?

  No. And why had the front door been locked? Had Adrian or one of the other staff locked it without them knowing I was out there?

  But it doesn’t matter. I’d been in a garage filled with any number of vehicles meant for blasting out of here at high speed, two of them meant for getting through heavy snow.

  Not only is Michael likely to make my life a living hell for being out there, but I’ll likely never get another opportunity to even think about escaping. I’ll be lucky if I see another person or the outside of this lodge again.

  After what feels like an hour but is probably only ten minutes, the doors to the room open, then close. Michael’s slow, methodical footsteps brush across the carpet. I freeze, unable to bring myself to look at him.

  He doesn’t speak, his silence heavy and oppressive, pressing down on my chest. I swear I can feel him closing in like a predator behind me.

  Fresh panic seizes me in a chokehold. There’s nothing to do but deal with whatever’s coming.

  Swallowing hard, I turn and face my captor.

  Chapter 11

  Liar

  My captor stands in the middle of the room, his expression virtually unreadable, giving me nothing. He’s left a good four feet of space between us, his hands pushed into the pockets of his designer slacks. Nothing appears threatening about him at all, so why is it that I feel as if I’m locked in a cage with a hungry tiger?

  Everything in me screams to blurt out some excuse, but I remain silent. Letting Michael’s reactions indicate how things will go. Years living with a master interrogator like my father has taught me to use the first few moments of a confrontation to let the other person’s words and actions tell you how to take control. Trouble is, Michael seems to have chosen to adopt the same tactic. His gaze remains steady on me, waiting.

  Waiting to see what I’ll do.

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes as we both stand there without a word, staring each other down. The encounter quickly becomes a battle of wills, each of us waiting to see if the other will crack first.

  Until the silence becomes stifling, and every muscle in my body coils with tension that’s unbearable.

  “I’m guessing Adrian told you what happened,” I say at last.

  “Tell me anyway. I want to hear it from you.”

  This is not a great start. I have no idea what Adrian told him, which gives me no sense of how to spin this.

  “There’s not much to tell. According to Adrian, I wasn’t supposed to leave the house, but—”

  “But you did.”

  “No,” I say slowly, irritated at his cutting me off. “Katerina said I could explore the place on my own.”

  “Did she now?”

  The doubt in his tone doesn’t bode well for me. My fists tighten with annoyance.

  “Yes. She did.”

  His brows knit together. “She told you to go wandering off on this big property all on your own?”

  “No. She—”

  “Tell me what she said.”

  Well, at least he’s listening to me. I heave a sigh. “Look, I’m not sure exactly what happened here, Michael.” I think back, trying to remember her exact words. “Katerina told me to make myself at home here. “I may be here a while,” is what she said.”

  He looks at the floor, seeming to process this. “What else?”

  “She said I was allowed to go anywhere on the property I wanted. Except your private office.”

  His head snaps up. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house, Aurora.”

  “That’s not what she…” Realizations dawns and I put my head back, anger spiking. “Fuck. I see what’s happening here.”

  He raises a brow, waiting again.

  “She said I could go anywhere on the property. She didn’t say anything about leaving the house.”

  “What were you doing in the garage?”

  “The front door was…” I cut off, clenching my jaw. Oh, my God. How had I not seen what she was doing? “The front door was locked,” I grit out slowly. “When I tried to get back inside, every other door to the lodge was locked. Except the garage.”

  “The door was locked?” He sighs. “Okay. One of the staff must have locked it by accident.”

  “Try again.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She locked it on me.”

  “Katerina.”

  “Yes!” His mocking tone is starting to piss me off. Unfortunately, I know how I sound—like the petty woman trying to get her in trouble.

  “How do you know it was her?”

  “Because.” I yank on my ponytail. “This isn’t the first time she’s done that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t lock the bathroom door on your jet. She did.”

  The corners of his mouth twist. “Are you telling me my assistant locked the bathroom door on purpose? To get you in trouble?”

  “Yes.”

  He slips his hands out of his pockets. “And why would she do that?”

  I throw up my hands. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Suppose you clue me in.”

  “Because.” For some reason my cheeks heat. “She… She’s in love with you.”

  His lips stretch into a huge panty-incinerating grin. “And I suppose you’ll tell me now that she’s out to get you. To get rid of the competition.”

  Why does he have to make me sound like I’m in goddamned high school? “Looks like it, yeah.”

  “Does that make you jealous, Aurora?”

  “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Michael. I already told her she can have you.”

  Michael lets out another sigh. He pulls out his phone, walks over to the bed and sits on the foot of it. He presses a button and the phone dials.

  “Sir?” Katerina’s voice rings cheerfully through the speaker.

  He’s called her. Let’s see how she gets out of this.

  “Katerina, what did you say to Aurora before she left the house?”

  “I just told her that she was permitted to go anywhere in the house she wanted except your private office.”

  “Did you tell her that she had to remain inside lodge?”

  There’s a pause, as if she’s trying to remember our conversation. Or considering how to spin things. “Yes.”

  My jaw drops. “Oh, my God. Wow.” Somehow, I hadn’t expected her to lie outright. “I don’t believe this.”

  Michael puts up his hand for me to be quiet. “Thank you, Katerina.”

  “You’re most welcome, sir.” Her voice is so pleasant and professional—so innocent—that it grates on my nerves.

  Michael hangs up the phone.

  I wish he’d called her up here. If he’d seen her face, it probably would have been a lot harder for her to lie to h
im. Then again, maybe not. Something tells me that that woman could out-poker-face Gio, which is saying something, because he’s a poker champion.

  Michael looks at the bedspread as if thinking. Thinking about how to deal with me. Thinking about how to punish his lying prisoner, who has just tried to get his assistant in trouble for potentially letting her escape. My muscles coil until they threaten to snap, my thoughts racing as I imagine what twisted things he might be coming up with.

  “Michael, she’s lying. She said I could go anywhere on the property. She said property. And she didn’t say anything about not leaving the lodge at all.”

  His head lifts and he meets my eyes with a steady gaze. “Even if she was lying, that doesn’t explain why you were in the garage looking for a way out of here.”

  I close my eyes. Anything I say will only tighten the noose.

  “I admit I have a nice car collection, but the snowmobiles shouldn’t fascinate a girl like you. Unless you saw them as a way out.”

  Well, he has me there.

  “Besides, Katerina does not lie to me,” he adds smoothly.

  “Apparently she does.” I know my arguments are a lost cause, but that woman pisses me off, and the thought of enduring whatever Michael has in mind won’t allow me to shut up.

  “She knows better,” he counters. “Everyone who works for me does. They know I do not tolerate defiance, and they have enough experience with me to know what happens when they do go against me.”

  “Except me, is that what you’re saying?”

  He shrugs and stands. “You are new.” He stalks toward me. “But you will learn.”

  I’ll learn? His tone is rife with the promise of retribution, a lesson about to be doled out. Throat going dry, I back up a pace without even considering my actions.

  Michael stops in the middle of the room. I’m almost on the other side of it, nearly to the window.

  “Come here, Aurora.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “You went where you were not supposed to be, ignoring the dangers of doing so—”

  “Wait, what dangers?”

  A muscle in his jaw ticks, with irritation, I think. “It’s cold, and the snow around here is deep. There are avalanches here.” When he registers my understanding, he nods. “You were snooping around for a way to escape, and then you tried to blame your defiance on Katerina.”

  He advances another step. I don’t realize I’ve moved until my back hits the barred window.

  “Do you have any idea what could have happened if you had escaped?” he says quietly.

  “I would have been away from you?”

  “You could have been killed!” he roars.

  My eyes go wide. The anger in his voice startles me, but not much as what I see in his eyes. There’s concern—real protectiveness in his eyes—for me.

  Jesus. I’m not sure what the hell to do with that. Over the summers we’d spent together at my father’s mansion, once in a while, amid his terrorizing me, I swore sometimes I saw that same look in his eyes. After that bee had stung me and I’d screamed in pain, he’d looked exactly like he does now—almost shaken.

  The flash of concern in his eyes throws me, exactly as it did then.

  Then, just like that, it’s gone, and his face is a mask, making me wonder if I’d imagined it.

  “Come here, Aurora,” he growls softly.

  “Why? So you can beat me into submission?”

  “Don’t be melodramatic. You need to learn that your actions have consequences.”

  It doesn’t take a genius to imagine what’s going to happen as soon as I get within reach of him. He’s already threatened to whip me bloody. I can’t make my feet move.

  He closes in and grabs my wrist, then yanks me against his hard frame.

  It’s incredibly stupid, but I can’t bring myself to just let whatever’s coming unfold without a fight. Which is why, for the second time in two days, I swing my hand at his face.

  Michael’s hand flies up and catches my wrist. He whirls me around so that my back is against his chest, and then his arm is like a bar of steel across my throat.

  Christ almighty, where the hell did he learn to do that? He does all of this so fast that his movements can only come from years of training in fighting. When the hell did the boy who used to resort to mental barbs and hair-pulling become a fucking badass?

  With the smallest pressure on my throat, he’d cut off my air. My heart hammers in my ears, my chest rising and falling fast. He’s so huge it’s overwhelming. The heat of him pounds into me, making my senses reel.

  “You have no idea how much of a turn on it is, having you fight.” His breath tickles my ear. The hardness of his cock jabs into the small of my back.

  Fuck, he’s as hard as a steel spike.

  “I was going to give you a few swats on the ass for your actions today, Aurora. But now…”

  Leaving my imagination to run rampant, he releases me. “Take off your clothes.”

  I round on him, indignation raging through me. I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but then, my gaze flits from him to the doors and back again. He’d be on me in an instant if I ran.

  Even though there’s no one in the room other than us, and even though he’s seen me naked before, the idea of exposing myself to him leaves me feeling painfully self-conscious. Every instinct in me wants to argue, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I need to be strong. There’s no way out of what’s coming, so I’ll just have to take whatever he decides to do.

  Jaw clenched, I strip off every stitch, leaving my body once more bared to him. Michael watches every move, feasting on my nakedness as if my body is his to do with as he pleases.

  Why the hell does that thought make my pussy ache?

  Leaving the clothes on the floor, I stand before him, eyes focusing on the wall across the room. Shutting down my mind, retreating to a place where he can’t affect me. Making my body a shell, something that won’t feel pain or fall apart.

  Michael shakes his head. “You won’t be able to shut me out when I get going, Aurora. Come here.”

  Moving on autopilot, I cross over to the bed. As soon as I’m within reach, he captures my wrists with one hand, pulls a long, blue silk scarf from his pants pocket, then winds it around them.

  The sight of that cloth momentarily breaks through the protective barrier I’ve put around myself.

  Wait a minute…

  Familiarity nibbles at my thoughts. That looks like a scarf I bought weeks ago.

  Before I can think further on this, he binds my wrists, pulling the cloth tight enough that it pinches the skin. Then he sits on the side of the bed… and yanks me right over his knees.

  “What the hell?” I shout.

  He easily repositions me so that my hands are almost touching the floor, my toes barely touch the carpet, and my head is hanging over his thigh. My naked ass is also pointed up toward him, and my pussy is pressed into his other thigh.

  Mortification and anger roars through me. “Michael, this is ridiculous,” I snarl. “You can’t do this!”

  “You belong to me, Aurora, I can do whatever I please.” He lays his arm across the small of my back, pinning me in place. “What did I tell you would happen to you if you tried to hit me again?”

  “I swear, I’ll murder you, Michael!”

  His fist captures my hair, yanking my head back hard enough that the sting makes me cry out. “What did I tell you would happen if you tried to escape?”

  The pain steals my breath. Michael pulled my hair often as kid, but it feels different now; he grips it near my skull, giving him total control and laying bare an authority in him that’s infernally hot. It also hurts like a bitch.

  When I don’t reply, he pulls harder and I hiss between my teeth.

  “Answer me, Aurora. What did say I would do?”

  He’s asked two different questions, but it doesn’t matter; it all amounts to the same thing. I’m going to be punished,
and I’m not getting out of it.

  “That you’d turn my ass purple,” I grind out.

  “That’s right.” He releases my hair only to run his hand over my ass, first one cheek and then the other. The heat of his big palm warms the skin. The caress feels so personal, so deeply intimate that my cheeks flame even as an ache licks at my core.

  His hand stills on one butt cheek, letting my anticipation linger until it eats a hole through my resolve. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, Aurora? How long I’ve wanted to turn your ass red just like I’m going to now?”

  “You’re a sick bastard.”

  “This name calling has to stop.” His palm lifts from my ass, and then…

  The first strike comes down with a crack and a flash of pain that spreads across my ass cheek like fire. My legs kick out and I toss my head with a scream.

  “God damned you!”

  His palm hits the other cheek even harder than the first.

  I shriek in agony.

  He hums in his throat. His palm roams over each cheek, heating the flesh and soothing the sting. I huff and sniffle, humiliation biting deep.

  As pissed off as I am, though, this whole mess feels right, somehow. It’s as if over all those summers I spent with him, some strange bonding thing was happening between us, tying me to him so that anything he does to me now is his right. I’ve defied him, and he’s giving me what I need to wipe the slate clean. The notion freaks me out more than a little, even while the way he’s touching me, stroking my ass, makes my pussy throb until it hurts.

  Another slap burns my ass, and I let out a string of curses.

  “Any more name calling, swearing, or threats from you, and I’ll just keep adding another slap. Understand?”

  “Good luck with that, asshole.”

  Three slaps are delivered rapid fire.

  My eyes water, and I bite my lip.

  He jerks my head up. “Do. You. Understand?”

  “Ah! Yes!” Fuck, I hate him. So much.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He slaps a few more times, some harder, some lighter, alternating between caressing my cheeks and sometimes whacking them hard enough that I’m sure my ass is good and purple now, just like he promised. My sex clenches and I’m rubbing myself against his thigh, panting.