“Apparently it’s Property,” she seethes, glaring right at me.
Fuck, I don’t know how long I’m going to last without fucking her. It’s like she’s practically begging me for it.
Chapter 10
Stefan
Last night was anything but easy. Presley was a nightmare, and I’m not exaggerating. Any time she could cause an issue, she did. I think she even had a smile on her face when she was doing it. I ended up tossing her on her bed and locking the door to her bedroom. I told her that she could figure out how the fuck to calm down or I’d see her in a couple of days.
It’s about eleven in the morning, and she’s still screaming, cursing my name from the other end of the house. I’m just going to let her stay in there and calm down a bit more before going to see her again.
“Lord, she’s still going?” Silva comes into the sunroom, raising a brow.
“Yep. I imagine she’ll continue doing that for another couple of hours, or at least until she passes out.”
“I’m half tempted to put a tranquilizer in her food so we can all get some quiet around here.” Silva chuckles.
“If she was anyone else, I’d give you the go ahead, but she needs to understand that we’re not the enemy. It’ll take her a bit, but she’ll understand soon enough. I’m relatively confident.”
“Well, I’m sure your confident ass doesn’t mind if I leave one of the boys back here to deal with the screamer while I go see your mother with you.”
Early this morning my mother called me and asked me to meet her downtown at one of her favorite cafes. She doesn’t normally come in town very often, and it’s no surprise that I enjoy her company far more than I like my father’s. “Sure, you can come along. Just don’t do that hovering thing. You know she hates that.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my job. I’m not going to apologize for watching over you the way I should be. You haven’t been killed yet, and you won’t with my process.” I want to roll my eyes at the bastard, but he’s not wrong. It’s why I’ve kept him with me for so many years.
Fuck, after the shit with Mariana when she was looking for a potential new betrothed, I’m shocked Ion didn’t figure out a way to assassinate me. I
get up from my chair just as Presley screams from the other end of the house.
“Jesus, I’ll meet you outside in a moment. Can you get the car cooled off?” I ask Silva who nods and heads for the front of the house.
I walk down the hallway to where I have Presley in one of the guest rooms and slide the key into the door. What she doesn’t realize is that I have two men posted outside her windows and the door that leads into her bedroom. Pushing open the door, I see a very pissed off woman in a pink gown. “I thought you would’ve changed by now,” I mutter, looking down at her sitting on the edge of her bed.
“I don’t want to wear anything you buy me,” she hisses, feisty as can be.
I chortle out a laugh. “You’ll just have to get over that, pumpkin. Anything in this house is purchased by me; from your luxurious clothes to the food you’ll eat. I was going to let you tour around the house with some of our security, but if you can’t calm down enough to do that, I don’t think I’ll let you.”
Presley lifts her head up a little higher, analyzing me. I’m sure she’s wondering why I’d let her roam the house now, of all times. “I’m getting ready to go into town to have coffee with my mother. I expect that if I let you out of this room you’ll be on your best behavior. If you aren’t, my men have been given strict instructions to toss you back in this room and lock you in here until I return,” I state, handing the key to her room off to Rodriguez, who is the head of Presley’s security.
“Fine,” she grumbles, standing up from the bed. I watch her go over to her closet and grab a couple of things out of it. “I’m going to take a shower, and then your monkey’s can tour me around the house.”
“Fantastic. I’ll see you in a few hours. Don’t forget to go into the kitchen and get something to eat. I have a chef. Her name is Antonia, and everything she makes is delicious.” Presley doesn’t respond to me. Instead, she walks into her en-suite bathroom and slams the door. I take that as my signal to leave and go out to the front of my house and catch up with Silva. He's already in my car behind the driver’s seat, and I get in the passenger side.
“I didn’t expect to be chauffeured today.”
“I didn’t expect to get no sleep last night. Looks like surprises are coming from every which way,” he responds with a snarky tone.
I pay him no mind, instead, leaning my head back against the headrest and close my eyes as he drives me into town. From my home I can see Rio de Janerio. If traffic isn’t too heavy, I can be there within twenty to thirty minutes.
The café where my mother wants to meet me is on the outskirts of town. They’re famous for the way they make their coffee and scones. For the most part, whenever I’m driving down to my family home, I bring her a box of goodies that are begging to be eaten.
Silva pulls up to the side of the street and parks alongside the café. Scanning the area, I don’t see my mother in sight. Usually, she’s a creature of habit and sits on the outside of the café with one or two members of her team closely beside her.
I brush this off and head inside, ordering a hot coffee and a large order of Bolinho de Chuva. They’re basically cinnamon flavored donut holes, but, fuck, I’ve been to a lot of places around the world, and no one can make donut holes like this place. I ask the girl in the front if they can do me a favor and sprinkle a little bit of powdered sugar on top, and she has no problem with making sure my request is met. Seeing as she’s usually the girl who waits on my mother and I, I ask if she’s been her yet. She tells me that she isn’t here, but there’s a girl upstairs who said she was here to meet her.
Now, this causes me to be on guard. “What does the girl look like?”
“She’s probably in her mid-twenties. Has long, straight, brown hair with tanned skin. I can bring your order upstairs if you’d like, Mr. Dalca.”
I nod. “Yes, that would be good. Thank you.”
Silva is only a foot behind me and grabs my shoulder. “Who would be here to meet your mother? Wasn’t she supposed to meet you?”
“That’s what she said, but now I’m thinking my mother had other plans.”
“Ah, or your father told your dear mom to call you and pull some shady shit.”
I scoff, but Silva has a point. “You’re probably right,” I agree with him, heading towards the stairs.
“When am I ever wrong?” He laughs, footsteps coming in heavy as we go up the stairs.
The moment I reach the top I see the upstairs is completely empty, with only one table being taken. There’s no mistaking who this woman is, seeing as I’ve looked at a photograph of her maybe a week ago. “Isabella?”
She glances up from her cell phone and looks startled, like she wasn’t expecting this either. “What are you doing here? I came to meet your mother, not you,” she snaps out, aggravated as can be.
I go over towards the table she’s at and take a seat across from her. “Odd. I was supposed to meet my mother, and now you’re here.”
“Fuck!” Isabella snaps out, covering her hand over her face. “She was supposed to meet me here to give me intel, not to arrange some sort of private blind date with your ass.”
“Oh my, Isabella . . . when did you become such a crass creature? Was that after you started working with the United States government?” I don’t bother holding back the information I have on her, wanting to see the reaction.
“What?”
“You know what, don’t play coy with me. I have a friend who told me you’re on a covert mission.”
“Your friend is obviously mistaken. I’m just an accountant’s daughter.”
“No, you’re much more than that. Why don’t we make a deal?”
She narrows her eyes. “What sort of deal?”
“The deal where you keep your precious secrets to y
ourself. Where we can help one another.”
“How are you and I going to help one another?” Isabella leans back in her seat and crosses her arms, cocking a brow like she suddenly grew a pair of balls.
“You get out of my hair and avoid whatever deal my father is trying to strike up with yours.”
It’s pretty simple really, she just needs to keep doing whatever she’s doing, staying out of contact with her father for a little while. “That’ll be hard. My father signed the contract that yours sent over. I was made aware of it two days ago. I came here to talk to your mother because she had some information on how I can get out of this giant mess.”
The waitress from downstairs comes up with my coffee and cinnamon donut holes, sits them on the table and disappears. “Yeah, so you can continue to do whatever shit you’ve been up to,” I comment, taking one of the scrumptious treats and shove it in my mouth.
“I’m not up to anything,” Isabella argues, but I know she’s lying through her teeth.
“Yeah, right. Just go back to wherever you came from, and make it known that I’m already married.”
“Wait. What? Does your father know about it?” Isabella looks shocked but the moment I told her she smiled from ear to ear.
“Nope, he doesn’t have a damn clue,” I say, picking up my coffee I bring it to my lips and let the bitter taste mix with the sweetness from the cinnamon that’s still left on my tongue.
She giggles. “I thought I didn’t like you, Stefan, but it turns out you’re proving me wrong. Looks like we’ve both won today.” She puts her hand on my plate and grabs a couple of treats, popping one in her mouth. “Damn, this is delicious!”
I offer the plate to her, finishing my coffee up in a couple sips. “Consider it my farewell gift. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
I rise from my seat and head over towards the stairwell. Silva is quick to cock a brow and let me know he heard the entire thing. “So, you’re married?”
“Shut up and get me the name of that priest you know who signs the documents.”
I’m not having a legitimate wedding, but Presley and I will be married according to the great country of Brazil as of yesterday.
Chapter 11
Stefan
I left Presley alone for a few hours after I came back home. Honestly, I needed time to get my shit together and make sure this priest had everything he needed. This guy only allows people to pay him in the American Dollar, and thank fuck I have a safe in here with strapped money from various countries. I paid him ten thousand to forge this paperwork and authenticate that Presley and I eloped last night, saying he married us, and both Silva and Rodriguez were witnesses to our union.
“How has she been?” I ask Rodriguez who’s eating a bite in the kitchen when I walk through for my own snack.
“A bitch, but I’m seeing that’s a common trend when it comes to her. She’s refused to eat all day,” He looks down at his own food. “It’s a shame, ‘cause this is delicious.”
“Are you eating her food?”
“Yeah? She wasn’t going to, and no way was I letting Antonia’s good food go to waste.” I smack him on the back of the head, hearing Antonia snicker from the other side of the kitchen.
“Antonia, can you make Presley some pancakes, eggs, and maybe bacon? It’s quick, plus it should be somewhat nutritious. If she’s not eating for you, maybe she’ll eat if I take it to her.”
“I don’t know if she’ll eat it, Mr. Dalca, but I’ll be sure to whip something up for her. I’ll add a small fruit cup too. That might pique her interest a bit.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. Going into the fridge, I grab the massive bowl where we have our freshly cut fruit and eat quite a bit of it while I wait on Antonia to finish Presley’s food.
Silva walks into the kitchen and comes up beside me, sticking his hand in the bowl, popping pieces of fruit into his mouth. “Damn, is everyone hungry at the same time around here, or is it just me?”
“Do you not realize we all eat when you do? It’s the only time we get to eat because of your crazy schedule.”
Shaking my head. “No, I didn’t have a clue.”
Silva scoffs. “Typical. You only pay attention to yourself.”
“Oh, don’t be like that with your sensitive bullshit,” I grumble.
“Mr. Dalca, it’s almost ready. Do you want to give her some fresh juice too?” Antonia might not realize it, but I see how she’s trying to pull Silva and I away from each other so we don’t lose our shit and get into a fight. While he’s one of my closest men, we tend to butt heads far too often. Whenever Antonia witnesses us getting a little too close to the edge, she’ll pull one of us away from the other.
In a way, Silva is kind of like the brother I never had.
Walking over to where Antonia is, I grab a cup from the cabinet and open the refrigerator door, pick up the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, and pour a glass. I put everything away and see Antonia has everything sitting pretty on a tray. I place the glass in the area designated for a cup and lift the tray off the counter.
“Thank you,”
“No problem, sir. Hopefully, Miss Presley will decide it’s time to eat.”
I’ve lost hope because I know the devil that I’m dealing with. Walking out of the kitchen, I cross through the living room and head through the back hallway that leads to her room. At first glance, I’m blindsided, seeing as there aren’t any guards outside her door, and yet, it’s open.
I walk right up to it and see her sitting on the edge of her bed reading a book. “You hungry?”
She peers up from the pages. “Oh, you haven’t gone and fucked yourself yet?”
“I’m afraid not, I’ve been a little busy. Thought you might be hungry, though.”
Entering her room, I approach her and sit the tray next to her on the bed. She picks up the plate and looks at me like she wants to throw it right at my face. “I know you want to aim that at me, but you haven’t eaten since you’ve been here, and Antonia keeps spending a lot of time trying to make sure you have decent food to eat. It would mean a lot to her if you at least ate a few bites.”
“Why would I want to eat anything here? You have me caged up like a dog!” she roars, tossing the plate at me. I swiftly move to the right ,and it goes crashing into the wall behind me. Fuck it. I’m done with this shit!
I charge up to her and jump on top of her, wrapping my hand around her throat. “You don’t fucking learn, do you? Stop acting like a spoiled little brat, and I’ll start treating you a lot nicer.” Presley doesn’t utter a word, but instead, stares at me with nothing but outrage.
“Fuck!” I roar, getting off her. I dig into my pocket and pull out a diamond ring, sliding it forcefully on her finger. “Just so you’re aware, I’ve had a priest sign paperwork stating he married us yesterday.”
“What?! What in the fuck!?” Presley screams, jumping off the bed as I walk towards the door. “How did you even know my name?!”
“I had the bag that they took you with. Your name was inside it,” I lie straight through my teeth so she doesn’t catch on to what I already know.
“I’ll make it simple, Presley. I needed to marry a strong woman who can hold her own. There was no better choice for me than a slave. As time passes, I may tell you more information, but you’ll have to earn the right to that information. Just know, you’re no longer Presley Richards. You’re Mrs. Stefan Dalca.”
I leave her alone in her room with her mouth hanging open, shocked beyond measure. Surely, she’ll start treating me a bit better. After all, ‘til death do us part.
Chapter 12
Presley
I stare at the open door and wonder what the hell this man is playing at. I have just been through the worst several days of my life, and I feel like I just can’t take any more surprises. I think back to what he told me on the helicopter ride over and wonder if it is true, if I really am lucky. What were the other men and women at that auction planning on doi
ng with the girls and women they bought? I shiver at the thought because while I want answers, I truly do not want to know anything about that. I wish I had never been a part of or seen such a thing.
On a subconscious level, I knew something like that went on south of the border. My father had warned me many times, and I had seen news stories about girls disappearing and/or being sold into sexual slavery for the pleasure of men. But I just always thought I was smarter than those girls. It would never happen to me. I had been wrong.
Now, I find myself out of the cage I had been kept in on that awful boat, but I am still a prisoner of sorts. I am in an unfamiliar place with a man trying to feed me and commanding me what to do after locking me in a room to sleep all night. I don’t know what he wants with me, and I am afraid of giving in and finding out. Part of me hopes if I fight long enough, he will let me go, but then I think of a worse alternative. He bought me for a lot of money. Even for my father, an oil king, that would be a lot of money to drop on something or someone. If I am an item that can be bought, then perhaps I can be returned or resold, and I am guessing not every woman ends up between four gorgeous walls with a luxurious bed covered din Egyptian cotton sheets. I need to play my cards carefully if I am going to find out if there is ever a way to get home again.
I look at the food I have left and approach is slowly, my eyes constantly darting to the partially open door to see who might be looking in or coming in to do who knows what else to me. But there is no one. I am interestingly enough being trusted, at least as far as I can see out that door.
The smell of the food hits me, and I can tell this has been prepared by someone who knows their way around a kitchen. The peaches had been thrown in his face along with one of the three fluffy pancakes that was a part of this breakfast I was brought in bed. I don’t know where he got off trying to feed me like we are lovers or like I am his child – I still don’t know his angle – but now that I am not pissed off, I can feel my stomach betraying me. I may be known by some to be a waif, but I am a Texas girl through and through. I like my food, and I have not eaten well in days now. Longer than that if I count the fact that my stay in Rio has mostly consisted of bar junk and cocktails. But I find, as I look at this breakfast before me, I am starving. I don’t want to show weakness by taking it, don’t want it to end up being some contract or sign that I plan on belonging to this asshole, but I need it.
Defiant (The Clans Book 6) Page 6