by Ella Miles
I nod as he stands, leaving me alone at the small table on the edge of the sidewalk. I sip more of my coffee as a black Escalade pulls up outside. The man in the driver’s seat rolls down his window as he speaks with the man on the sidewalk.
I narrow my eyes. These men aren’t part of Dante’s security team. They do other work for him. I don’t have time to deduce precisely what work, before the back door is thrust open and a beautiful woman falls to the stone drive.
I can’t take my eyes off of her as she pulls herself to a standing position. Her arms are tied behind her back, and I have no doubt what she was doing in the back of the SUV or who she belongs to. She’s one of Dante’s women. He hasn’t touched her yet, that much is clear. She has fight and determination in her piercing green eyes, visible even though we are several feet apart.
Her eyes shine brightly beneath her black hair that cascades down the sides of her face. When my eyes find her breasts, I bite my lip and groan. Perfectly round mounds spill out over the top of her shirt. And I don’t even dare let my eyes travel down her long, lean legs or heels I want digging into my back as my cock slams inside her.
I don’t know who this woman is. But I will. My cock aches at the sight of her. I have to have her. I have to know her. Go near her. Touch her. Taste her. Fuck her.
It’s clear from her designer outfit and the way she holds her head high that she comes from money. Old wealth, no doubt. I don’t know how Dante got her. Is she payment for an old debt? Did he steal her?
I would understand the urge if he stole her. I’m very much feeling the same, and I’ve only just seen her.
The dark beauty considers her next move. I see it in her eyes. She wants to run. Is desperate to. But she glances down at her spiky heels and the men who are slowly becoming aware she is no longer in the back of the car. Amateurs. How hard is it to keep a woman retained in a car? It’s clear the ropes will do nothing to contain a fire like her.
Her eyes search quickly for any chance at escape. For freedom. For help.
Her eyes stop when they find mine. For a flicker of a second, I think I see lust in her eyes as she checks me out. But realize it is most likely my own lust reflected in her eyes. No woman in her predicament would think about such silly things as lust at a moment like this.
She runs toward me. She’s choosing me. Thinking I’ll be her salvation.
She’s wrong.
She may think she sees some kindness in my blue eyes, but there isn’t any caring left. Any kindness I once had was taken from me years ago, as easily as her freedom is being ripped from her now.
She stumbles, approaching me. My arms go out automatically, catching her as she falls into my aching lap.
She smiles, catching her breath. She thinks she’s safe in my arms.
I smirk. She couldn’t be more unsafe.
“Help. Please.”
I raise an eyebrow as I get a whiff of her shampoo and perfume. It’s strong, just like her. But not overwhelming. Just strong enough. Not overly flowery, but feminine nonetheless.
I stroke her hair, resisting my urge to grab the long strands roughly and drag her to my car waiting on the next block so I can fuck her in my bed.
What the hell?
I shouldn’t want to fuck her. She’s Dante’s. Fucking her would ruin everything I’ve planned and worked on for years.
I push her up until she’s standing again. Hoping that some distance between us will ease my discomfort and need for her. My cock only strains harder in my jeans.
Jesus, she’s gorgeous.
Her eyes widen. She thinks I was helping her when I helped her stand. She believes that was kindness. She may be strong, but she has no idea how to read people. She needs to learn fast if she’s going to survive a year with Dante.
“Help me. Please. A man named Dante has kidnapped me.”
She glances behind her and sees the guards approaching. I think she’s going to change her mind and make a run for it. It’s instinct. Any person would run.
But not her.
She keeps her feet firmly planted, as if she knows exactly what’s coming and is ready to face it. She does everything she can to show no fear. Her body stands tall, robust. Her body doesn’t quiver or shake. Her breathing is steady and calm. Her lips are pulled back into a thin line. Even her eyes do everything possible to hide any fear.
I read people for a living though. So I know, despite how calm she appears on the outside, her pulse is racing. I grab her wrist.
She smiles a tiny bit, thinking I’m offering to help her.
I feel her pulse racing fast. It’s one of the signs she can’t hide. No matter how tough she tries to act on the outside.
“Help. They are going to take me. Call my brothers. They will help me. I’m Gia Ca—”
Her voice is cut off by Dante’s. “You’ve stopped my new whore from escaping, Mr. Conti. You are well worth your asking price.”
I take Gia’s hand and hand her over to Dante.
Gia. It’s a beautiful name that fits her well.
Her eyes widen when she realizes she fell into the lap of the devil instead of a saint. She wasted her one chance of escape on me.
She swallows hard, trying to keep her calm facade, when Dante pulls her into his body. He takes a deep breath, letting her know he smells her, unlike when I tried to hide my desire to smell her.
Dante grabs her chin and forces her to look up at him. He licks his lip like he can’t wait to get her back to his house.
My insides burn, seeing her in his arms. She’s mine. I found her first.
“I think I underpaid for you, whore. You are trying to hide it from me. But you are most definitely a spitfire I will get the pleasure of breaking. I look forward to it. Not many women would attempt to break free this quickly. Most are in too much of shock to even react.”
“Go to hell,” she says.
He grins, tightening his grip on her. But she doesn’t react, other than a glare.
Dante turns to me. “As you can see, I have some things to attend to. I’ll have the money to you by the end of the day. Call my secretary to discuss when you can set up my new system. Maybe I’ll even let you play with my new toy?” Dante licks her face, and she shudders.
I growl, but it’s so low I’m not sure either of them heard me.
Dante is too focused on Gia. He grips her tightly as he walks her to the waiting Escalade, where his incompetent men wait. He shoves her in the back and, I have no doubt, will be climbing in, right next to her, to ensure she doesn’t attempt an escape again.
Gia looks at me one last time. I was her only hope, and now that hope is gone. But I don’t see that reflected in her eyes. Instead, I see fire. She studies me, and I know I’ve just been added to her list. She wants revenge, to make me suffer like she is going to suffer.
I can’t take my eyes off her until the door is shut, blocking my view with the tinted windows. Even then, I don’t stop watching until the SUV drives away.
Gia wants her revenge on me for not helping her. For turning her over to a barbarian. I do not doubt she will one day get her revenge. But if I’m going to be punished by her, I’m going to do something worth getting punished for.
Dante invited me to his house to share her. I don’t share, but I can’t stay away. I’ll fuck her, get her out of my system, so I can forget about her and return to my own revenge. While I happily wait for the day she carries out hers. It will be worth it, if only to see her piercing eyes again.
3
Gia
Mr. Conti.
That’s the name of the man I put my faith in. I don’t even know his first name. But I risked my only hope of escape on him. I thought he would go to the police. Call my brothers. Figure out who I am and realize the reward my brothers would give him would be more than generous. Instead, I’m pinned in the back of the SUV with Dante and his men.
I thought I saw kindness in Mr. Conti’s eyes when I stepped out of the SUV. I knew I couldn’t outrun the idiot
s who drove me. My guards may not have much of a brain between their ears, but they are built. All muscle. I couldn’t outrun them with my hands tied behind my back and my high heeled shoes, so I chose a man; a man with tired, gray eyes and what I thought might be warmth hiding behind those eyes.
I was wrong.
Whatever I saw, it wasn’t kindness. Mr. Conti is friends with the devil.
I made the worst mistake I could. I trusted a stranger because I thought I could sense something more than cold indifference oozing off of him.
Mr. Conti turned me over to Dante without a second thought. I am nothing to him. Not even a woman, just another way for Mr. Conti to show his loyalties to Dante.
I swallow down my regret, trying not to think too hard about the gorgeous man sitting back at the quaint coffee shop I’ve been to hundreds of times before. Amante. I love the place. I never realized monsters hung out there.
Beautiful, handsome, dark beasts. Mr. Conti may be evil, but if I were free, he would have been precisely the type of man I went after. Tall, muscular, wealthy, and hiding a dark past beneath his grimace. When his eyes soaked into me, full of want and desire, I saw the hunger in his eyes. I even let myself feel it for one second. One full second, and then I stopped myself.
It might have been the last time a man looked at me with a hint of lust where I had a choice in what happened afterward. From now on, if any man looks at me that way, I won’t have a choice to say no. They will take whatever they want from me.
Mr. Conti was supposed to be my savior. But he won’t help me.
My brothers don’t have a clue I’m missing. And by the time they figure out I’m gone, it will be too late.
I have to save myself.
Dante grabs my chin and forces me to look at him again.
“Such a beauty.”
I growl and jerk my head out of his grasp.
He grabs my chin and pulls me so close to his face I can smell his breath; a disgusting mix of coffee, cigarettes, and rotting flesh.
I glare at him as I lean away from him.
“I will enjoy breaking you, whore.”
“My name is Gia,” I say, although I don’t know if he used my name if I would feel any better. Gia feels more personal. But it’s better than ‘whore.’
Dante cocks his head to the side and glances up at the man in the passenger seat, perplexed, as if to say, “Can you believe this?”
“I’ve never had a woman quite like you. Usually, the women I take are in too much shock to say anything, especially nothing that snarky.”
“That wasn’t snarky. You haven’t seen me be snarky yet.”
“I don’t doubt that. I will enjoy slowly snuffing the fire out of you as the days pass. Usually, I need a new woman within a week. None of my previous conquests have lasted long, and I’m not into necrophilia. I once had a woman last a month. She had a man she was living for, fighting for. You don’t have a man you are fighting to get back to, do you, whore?”
I don’t react when he calls me a whore. It’s just a word. I need to prepare myself for much worse.
“No, I don’t need a man. When I escape, I will be returning with an army to kill every single one of you. But don’t worry, I’ll kill you last, slowly, for payback for everything you do to me.”
His eyes blaze, and his nostrils steam. I’ve just turned him on.
Shit.
“So you have relented I will have my way with you then, whore?”
“No.”
He strokes my hair slowly and gently, before grabbing my hair forcefully, jerking my head back as his lips hover over my ear.
“I will have my way with you, whore. Lucky for you, I don’t have any clients to see this week. So you and I will have an entire week to get to know each other. And you can wish you had a man in your life who might rescue you, or at least to cloud your memories when I fuck you.”
I suck in a breath. I hate how his hot breath breathes down my neck. My body freezes, hoping he will stop. But I need to fight my urge to stop moving. Not fighting back won’t get me anywhere. I need to fight to get free. Even if it means I might get more injuries until I finally break free.
Dante jerks me away from his mouth so he can look me in the eyes.
“I think you are going to be my greatest conquest of all, whore.” Dante turns his attention to his men in the front seat who have largely ignored our conversation. “How long do you think my new whore will survive?”
“You are the greatest master, sir. You will tame her within the week, and then how long she survives will be up to you.”
“Two weeks, sir.”
Dante licks his bottom lip slowly as he turns back to me.
I squirm back against the door, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
“I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you two months. I think you are stronger than the rest. You have spirit and fight, and you fight all for yourself, not for the love of a man. I admire that, whore. But in the end, it won’t help you. You’re mine now. The sooner you learn to behave, the sooner this will all end.”
End.
He means this will only end when I die.
I may have made some mistakes in choosing my escape, but this will not end with my death. Even if I do die, Arlo and Matteo will never stop until Dante is dead. They will get my revenge. He underestimates the Carini bloodline if he thinks he will survive this.
I don’t say any of that to him. It won’t help. For now, I need to prepare myself for what’s next. Good thing I’ve had years of practice.
The car slows, and I stare up with wide eyes at the house which, I assume, will soon become my prison. It’s a large house, almost as big as the Carini mansion, but unlike the warm, ancient, and inviting Carini mansion, this house feels cold and indifferent. The building has high, light-gray brick walls. The front door is a dark wood that looks like it’s meant on a dungeon cell, not the front door of a home. But then again, this isn’t a home; it’s a prison.
I swallow and feel my heart beating rapidly. Maybe I’ll die of a heart attack before I even get inside. That would be the easy way out. No suffering.
I’m used to suffering; I remind myself.
Whatever Dante has planned for me, I can survive. I always survive.
I don’t realize the men are already out of the car until my door is thrust open, and I almost fall to the concrete ground below.
A burst of thunder sends a jolt through me, almost as if restarting my heart. I take a deep breath, and I feel stronger than I’ve felt in a long time. My heart rate slows to a much steadier pace.
I’m a Carini. There is nothing I can’t face.
I step out of the car as hands clasp around my bicep again. I won’t be forced into the house. I won’t be dragged. I will walk in proudly like I own the place. I’m different than his other whores. And therefore, I have an advantage. I can’t change and start acting scared.
Raindrops pour down as I walk the few feet to the front door. I feel every drop. I love the rain, but today the rain mirrors my mood. Thunder rolls again, but this time I don’t jump. It sounds more like a chorus beating loudly in the background, reminding me I have someone on my side. I’m as strong as the thunderous sound.
Dante opens the door, and I step in with one of his men still gripping my arm. I quickly scan everything in sight. I need information if I’m going to survive. I need to know every exit. Every security camera. Every guard. I need to know every person in this house. Every car. Every weapon. Only then will I be able to escape.
“You never cease to surprise me, whore,” Dante says as he takes over for his guard, whom he quickly dismisses.
I raise an eyebrow. It’s just him and me.
He either thinks he can easily overpower me. Control me. Or he has more security guards waiting to take me out if I run.
Dante isn’t stupid, unlike his men.
He won’t leave himself vulnerable. He wants me too badly to give me a chance to escape. He’s testing me. Seei
ng if I will run so he can punish me.
Think differently.
My instinct is to run, but that’s not what I need to do. He wants me because I’m a spitfire, and he would enjoy breaking me.
I won’t let him win.
I need to be different.
I need to pretend I’m into him. That I want him to fuck me. That I’ve been so desperate for male attention, I’d even fuck a man like him. It’s going to suck, but it might be the only way for freedom. I can pretend. That’s all this is, pretend.
I took acting classes in high school. I was good. I can do this.
“You have a beautiful home, Mr. Russo.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Thank you, whore. It doesn’t have the views you are used to, but then again, you haven’t lived in a home like this for several weeks now. I’m sure you are aching to know what it feels like again.”
He strokes my face, and I do everything I can to not react negatively to his touch. I don’t miss the double meaning of his words. He doesn’t think a man has touched me in weeks. He’s right. I need to let him know just how right he is.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I say, my eyes meeting his, challenging him to call me out on my words.
He smirks, pleased with my response.
So I continue. “You’re right. I haven’t been with a man in months. I thought Roman was the one. I thought he loved me and wanted me. I was wrong. Roman is half the man you are.”
Dante doesn’t respond. His eyes deepen though at my words. He grabs my wrists, bound with rope behind my back. He spins me until my back is to him.
I resist the urge to glance back at him. I need to show him I trust him with my body.
So instead, I focus on studying my surroundings, but it’s impossible with him breathing down the back of my neck again.
I feel something sharp and cold against my wrists.
Shit.
He’s going to cut me. I should never have turned my back to him.
My breath catches as he cuts the rope from my wrists. My hands pull apart, and I rub them gingerly, examining the red bumps and abrasions which have formed a perfect circle where the rope used to be.