The Corrupt Billionaire COMPLETE Box Set

by Hope, Camilla

  Stepping behind me again, I tried to turn my head to see what he was doing and just saw him pull a small black rectangle from his back pocket. The sight of it set my teeth on edge, and I started to ask him what it was when the item made contact with my shoulder.

  “There we go,” he said.

  Every muscle in my body tightened, and I screamed at the feel of a cold charge racing down the length of my arm and settling around my bound fingers. Once the initial shock and pain was gone, I trembled in the chair and looked up him with watery eyes as he moved to face me again.

  “Don’t have such a big mouth now, do you?” he sneered.

  “Fuck… you… asshole.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “What are you… like a god damned pain slut or something?”

  Morgan turned the taser gun on me again, the second jolt rushing up my sides as my shoulders seized, and I bit down on my tongue. A watery stream of blood and spit trailed down my chin, and Morgan chuckled heartily as he licked it away and slapped the back of my head.

  “You like that, baby? Want some more?”

  Again the pain started to fade, but my entire body kept vibrating against the seat. My head barely lolled from side to side, but I hoped he would take it for a no, take pity, and just leave me the hell alone.

  “I think that you’re lying to me,” he teased.

  Morgan stunned my neck and kept the charge going for what felt like hours. I shook and screamed, feeling as if my skin would not be enough to support me or that I might slip from the cuffs only to become a puddle of shaking sweat and tears. And then he finally drew the taser back as he ripped the bra away from my breasts.

  “And we would want to leave this pair out of the fun!”

  The final charge was for my breasts, but I fainted away on rolling waves of pain before I could give him the satisfaction of another scream.

  Unconscious, I drifted away from the chair, the charge and the chains, and remembered the feel of Peter’s hands. I imagined him in the room with me, his skillful fingers prying the cuffs from my wrists without the benefit of the key, and I felt him pulling me into his arms as he carried me away from the darkened room. I could smell his hair brushing against my cheek, and he opened a door to bring me back to a soft bed bathed in candlelight. He laid me down gently and said nothing as he kissed the parts of my body that Morgan had all but laid waste to, and with each brush of his lips, the pain kept fading away. As much as I longed to touch him, I was too weak to lift my arms, and simply arched my body in an effort to get closer to his lips. Peter trailed his sweet kisses up and down my sides, and I started to moan into his mouth when he curled his eyebrow and smirked.

  I blinked once, and Peter morphed into Morgan. Before I could scream, he gagged me with a harsh kiss, and I realized that I was still here in this dank room and still bound to the chair. He left my lips only to clamp his hard hand over my mouth as I tried to scream.

  I fell silent as everything went black once more.

  “You gonna wake up or what, wife?” I dimly became aware of Morgan’s voice as I drifted in and out of consciousness.

  Blinking slowly, the dark, dank room came back into focus, and I still felt the cuffs binding my arms and legs in place. Morgan sneered from the top of the stairs as I lifted my throbbing head from my chest and felt my lips sealed shut by a piece of duct tape. He slowly descended to the depths of the room with a brown bag in his hand and a sweating bottle of water dangling from his lips.

  “You were out like a light there!” he teased. “Didn’t mean to stun you so hard.”

  Lying animal! That’s exactly what he wanted. I glared at him hard, but even through my rage, I couldn’t help but whimper at the sight of the water gliding down his throat.

  “Thirsty?” he asked. “Yeah I bet you are.”

  He took another swig before dumping some of the water over my head, and I took no comfort in the droplets running down my back.

  “I can’t hear you, Miss. Do you want a drink or not?”

  Hating myself for having to ask him for anything, I nodded my head. He tore the tape away, and I desperately lifted my head to the neck of the bottle. But not even one drop hit my tongue before he snatched the promise of some kind of relief far away from my parched lips.

  “I’m not really in a sharing mood,” he said with a sneer. “Too bad for you.”

  He dragged a small stool from the side of the room so that he was sitting just a few inches from me and rifled through the contents of the brown bag. My stomach growled as he brought a single leg of fried chicken to his mouth and gnawed greedily.

  “Please…” I muttered. “Please let me…”

  “Go?” he asked. “Oh yeah, sure. All you had to do was ask me nice enough.”

  My muscles still vibrated in the wake of the taser assault, and I watched him as he tore into every inch of meat and skin before tossing the shredded bone to my feet.

  “Dumb bitch!” he spat.

  Morgan started for another piece of chicken as I struggled to speak again.

  “What are you… what else are you going to do to me?”

  “Real fun starts when Swanson shows,” he said with a leer.

  “Swanson?” I asked with a shudder. “I… Peter?”

  No way was he in on this, I thought. He never would have… he said that he was working his way out.

  “Did you hurt him, too?” I asked.

  “Sure, Swanson will give us a play by play as soon as he shows.”

  A phone vibrated in his pocket, and Morgan licked his fingers as he looked at the screen.

  “Bonus!” he said. “Looks like we’re gonna get ourselves a little preview right now.”

  Chapter Three

  “Who the hell are you?” Peter asked as the little old lady pulled the phone from his palm and hid it behind her back.

  “Honey, I didn’t live this long to not know the underworld when it’s right under my eyes and my roof.”

  “Fine!” Peter said as he tried to take the phone away from her. “Just let me make the call so that I can find out where she is.”

  “You like a mimic or something?” she asked.

  “A… what the fuck are you talking about?” Peter snapped.

  “Language, young man,” she chided. “Let’s try to keep it clean.”

  Peter thought these were strange words from a woman who had bashed a man’s skull in without knowing exactly why or just how much he deserved it.

  “Here,” she said as she reached for Swanson’s shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” Peter asked as he turned to watch her.

  “We are putting him back in the room,” she said. “Are you going to help me, son?”

  “Help you?” Peter said incredulously.

  Caroline might be mauled or maimed or worse. And he was supposed to play nursemaid to this piece of filth?

  “Fuck… screw that,” he said. “The man who has her is a phone call away, and I have to…”

  “And what then?” the lady asked. “You think he’s just going to tell you where to find her?”

  “I… I hadn’t…”

  Peter knew he wasn’t thinking straight but he just wanted to find his Gypsy and fold her into his arms.

  “But this one might talk,” she said, “…when he comes to. Do you want to find the girl or not?”

  Knowing that she was right, Peter helped her hoist Swanson’s body from the floor, and together they dragged him back to the room. Despite the woman’s obviously advanced age, she possessed the strength to pry him from Peter’s arms and toss him to the bed.

  “Now you hold up for just a sec,” she cautioned. “Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

  Her dash from the room followed by her swift return with the broken bottle in her hand gave him all kinds of ideas. But she hadn’t killed Swanson.

  If anyone was going to have that privilege…

  The lady picked up the room’s phone and made a quick call.<
br />
  “Wayne? We have a bit of mess in the East Wing. No. No, don’t clean it up just yet. Let’s say you just cordon the area off. Only have the two guests, and they’re kind of in the middle. Yeah. Little girl must have slipped back in right under my nose.”

  She seemed satisfied with herself as she set the phone back in the cradle and ran her weathered fingers across the bottle’s shattered edges.

  “Figured that would buy us a bit of privacy,” she said. “We got a real chance that it could get all kinds of noisy in here.”

  Taking a step back, Peter tilted his head to the side and scanned her up and down.

  “Aren’t you the cool customer?” he said.

  “One has to be in these parts. Ever see a black bear trying to make his way into your bed?”

  “No. I can’t say that I have,” Peter laughed.

  She wielded the broken bottle as it was a rifle and smacked her tongue against the inside of her cheek.

  “Bagged and tagged in two seconds flat,” she said. “Still have the gun handy if we need to use it on this one.”

  Swanson started to moan, and Peter turned towards him with tight fists as he shot the lady another look.

  “Why are you doing this?” Peter asked.

  “That little girl wanted everything perfect for someone,” she started. “But from what I glean, that fella she took off with wasn’t who she was really after.”

  Peter started to ask her how she could be so sure when she waved the broken bottle in his face and curled her lips into a frown.

  “And I don’t like no man putting his hands where they don’t belong. So if she’s in some kind of trouble, you can count on my help,” she added.

  How or why she was willing to help suddenly seemed unimportant. At least, Peter thought, he had an ally. Swanson started to sit up when she handed Peter the shattered glass. Removing her shoe, she slammed the sole into his nose and wiped away his blood on the back of her skirt.

  “Should probably tie him down first before we get him talking,” she said.

  Peter half-expected her to produce a rope, but she just turned towards the bed and started to shred the sheets. Once she had several silk strips, she moved to bind his wrists as she tossed me the other strands.

  “Let’s say you get his legs,” she said as she motioned towards him.

  Peter took care to make the knots as tight as possible. He wanted him confined, and he wanted it to hurt like hell. Peter and the woman sat Swanson on the edge of the bed, and Peter twisted the final strip in his hands.

  “Don’t even know who I’m thanking,” Peter said.

  “Folks around these parts call me Nellie.”

  “Well, Miss Nellie, I am much obliged,” Peter grinned.

  Swanson started to speak, his eyes growing wide as he twisted against his bonds and gnashed his teeth.

  “You… you stupid fucker!” he squealed.

  “Now you listen here!” Nellie said.

  “Zip it you old bag!” he said. “What? You think I won’t take the both of you out as soon as I get out of…”

  Nellie grabbed the bottle and threatened his throat with the shattered edge.

  “But you’re not out of it right now, are you punk?” she threatened.

  Swanson laughed at Nellie’s version of so-called language, but as she sliced the edge of the bottle into the man’s smug cheek, he clammed up.

  “Boy but you don’t you have an awful lot of scars,” she said. “Too close a shave? Or maybe your mama never taught you how to play nice with others.”

  He grunted like a swine, and Peter’s breath caught in his throat. One of those scars was courtesy of Caroline, and Swanson was nothing if not a creature bent on revenge. And Peter couldn’t help but worry that he had already told Morgan to start skinning the flesh from her cheeks and give her a new look. Peter quaked at the thought as Nellie turned back to face him.

  “See what you can get out him,” she said. “Use this if you have to.”

  With the bottle firmly planted in his hand, Peter grabbed the back of Swanson’s neck and held the broken bits just above his eyes.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  “I’m not telling you anything,” Swanson replied.

  He cried out again as Peter used the bottle to shred his shirt and grind the glass into his chest.

  “If anything’s happened to her, I swear to God I’ll…”

  “Bet my boy Morgan’s already got her doing all kinds of screaming!” Swanson goaded him.

  The smile on his face filled Peter with rage, and he started to twist the bottle deeper when Nellie snatched it from his grip and slowly shook her head.

  “I thought that you were trying to help me?” Peter asked.

  “And it’s a damn fine thing that I’m here to do just that,” she said. “You boys. You think it’s all about brute force.”

  “So says the lady who shot a bear!” Peter spat.

  “Son, this is a different kind of beast.”

  Peter seethed where he stood, and Nellie let the bottle fall to Swanson’s side as she sat beside him on the bed. Peter’s eyes went wider as she reached for the big man’s belt, and Swanson laughed in disbelief.

  “Seriously, lady? And what? You gonna like suck it out of me?”

  She pulled his limp flesh from his shorts and shook her head in distaste.

  “Hardly looks like much of anything,” she said. “But I’d wager you’d still miss it if it was gone.”

  Nellie took the bottle again and smashed it the floor. Selecting the sharpest splinter of glass, she started to cut into him. Peter could hardly believe what he was seeing, and Swanson’s obvious horror took some time to work its way through to his lips.

  But when his scream finally hit the air, it came from the belly of this particular brand of beast.

  “You… you crazy bitch!” he screamed.

  Swanson tried to kick her, and Peter flew to the bed and held the man down. Nellie wiped her brow with the back of her hand and went back to work like a surgeon in some ancient battlefield without the benefit of any kind of numbing drug.

  “Good man,” she said as she gave Peter a wink. “Keep him still now.”

  Nellie continued to cut, and Peter jammed the last piece of the shredded sheets between Swanson’s lips. Daring to look down at her unexpected handiwork, Peter could see that even if Nellie didn’t manage to slice his member from his worthless body, he would have a whole other host of scars to deal with.

  “Now,” she said.

  “What?” Peter said.

  She rolled her eyes before finishing her thought.

  “Ask him again where you can find her,” she said with a sigh.

  Nellie leaned towards him with a smirk.

  “And you better give him the goods, or you can say fare thee well to yours.”

  Swanson frantically nodded his head, and Peter plucked the makeshift gag from his mouth.

  “We… we made it look like a… like a run of the mill snatch and grab,” he said, “so she wouldn’t know what hit her.”

  The suggestion of more than Morgan had Peter scared, and he demanded to know how many men held her captive.

  “Just… just Morgan,” he sputtered. “And I… the kid knows enough to wait for me before we get the party started.”

  Peter pulled Swanson’s phone out and looked to Nellie.

  “Do I have your word that you’ll cut him if says the wrong thing?” Peter asked.

  “Nothing would give me more pleasure,” she replied.

  Peter knew that he could trust her, and the terror in Swanson’s eyes kept him still as Peter tapped into his phone.

  “First thing you’re going to do is tell him to lay off her,” Peter instructed. “Think you can manage that?”

  “I guess. But… but it ain’t like he’s just going to bring her back.”

  Peter shared another glance with Nellie and nodded, and she took another slice at his piece.

  “Because he’s not
stupid?” Peter challenged.

  “Because…,” Swanson gasped with pain, “… he’ll know that something’s up! Boy can get hot under the collar!”

  “Well, so can I,” Peter said. “And you do better make him sit on his hands. And then… then I’m going to get her myself.”

  Peter knew that time was of the essence, and wherever Caroline was, whatever she was suffering through, he silently willed her to just hold out a little while longer. Swanson’s eyes flickered between Nellie and Peter, and he sighed like a man beaten to the point of no return when he finally nodded his head.

  “Just make the fucking call,” he snarled.

  Chapter Four

  Morgan smiled as he lifted the phone to his ear and listened with a gleeful gleam in his eyes.

  “What’s the good word?” he asked. “You making your way here sometime soon?”

  I forgot my hunger and my thirst, all of the pain still rushing through my body when he leered into my face and leaned forward.

  “Almost got her naked,” he said into the mouthpiece as he licked his lips.

  I was powerless to resist as he ripped the flimsy panties from my weak thighs. I hung my head and wished for some way to hurt him, but I could only whimper as he ran his hands down my legs and laughed.

  “Check that,” Morgan said. “She is ready to be spread.”

  I would find some way to resist. Even if he kept me tied to this fucking chair, my body would never be his. No one would ever touch me again but Peter, and I vowed to clench my muscles and bite down if he tried to worm his tongue into my mouth.

  “Say what?” Morgan said and straightened up.

  The shift in his tone filled me with a strange kind of hope, and I watched the color leave his face as he gripped the phone tighter and started to turn away.

  “Why… are you for real, man?”

  I could just make out someone saying something that displeased him from the other end of the phone, and Morgan kicked the stool over as I strained to understand what was happening now.

  “Like hell I’m just waiting for some pick up man!” he said. “I want to play with her. I want to make her moan.”

  The sight of his shoulders drawing close to his ears brought a faint smile to her lips. Plans had changed without his consent. Did that bode well for me? Maybe, maybe not, but my heart still skipped a beat as he managed to nod his head.