by Kiera Silver
“You’ll need to spit out the gauze so you can take the pills and drink the water. I have more gauze. I’m not exactly sure how a dentist packs it, but I had that on hand.”
She spat out the bloody gauze and she grimaced, both from the discomfort and his complete lack of empathy. She popped in the pills and swallowed half the bottle of water in one go before taking the fresh gauze pads he extended, folding them into quarters, and putting them in the spot where she used to have a molar. She was certain the tooth had been out for too long to save, so she’d either have a hole in her mouth or an implant to remind her of this night for the rest of her life.
Not that she was likely to forget it anyway, even without the permanent physical reminder. It had already been quite eventful, and she hadn’t even faced Croft yet. That was the part she dreaded most of all.
She had no way of knowing how long she’d been unconscious, but she was awake approximately twenty minutes when the car finally drew to a stop, having bumped and jostled along what she assumed was a dirt road for the last mile or two. Even the luxury vehicle, which was likely designed to absorb most bumps, had continued to shudder under the strain of covering the last part of their journey.
The door opened a moment later, and the first thing she saw was a gun in her face. The driver was a big, beefy man, and though he was holding a normal-sized handgun, it looked like a water pistol in his fleshy palm. She clearly wasn’t going to be able to escape that wall of flesh. With little alternative, she slid from the limousine, turning to look at the doctor. “Aren’t you coming?”
He shook his head, not even glancing up from his cell phone. “No reason to. I’m headed home after dropping off the package.”
At least she knew there was cell-service out here, wherever here was, if she could just get her hands on a phone. When the driver prodded her in the back with the barrel of the pistol, she forced herself to walk forward, though the last thing she wanted to do was to approach the rustic log building. She could see a dock behind it, thankful it was almost a full moon and provided some illumination. They were on the edge of the lake, or perhaps a river. It wasn’t light enough for her to tell if there was a swiftly moving current.
As they approached the front door, it opened, and Croft stepped onto the porch, clearly backlit by the lighting coming from the cabin. Her stomach heaved, and she almost stumbled as she suppressed the urge to vomit. She wanted to pretend it was because she taken the pills on an empty stomach, but it was pure fear that motivated the response. She didn’t want to be afraid of him, but she couldn’t help it. She was alone and vulnerable, and there was no telling what fate awaited her as soon as she crossed the threshold.
She tried to resist doing just that, banking on the idea the driver wouldn’t actually shoot her, because Victor would want her alive. She started to run, but didn’t make it very far. The driver reached out and grabbed hold of her ponytail, arresting her flight and making her cry out at the pain in her scalp.
“Careful with that one. She’s feisty, Carlisle,” said Victor with a chuckle.
“Yes, boss.” The driver, now identified as Carlisle, kept hold of her hair as he dragged her the rest of the way. She could either move with him or risk having her hair torn from her scalp while enduring the agony of that. Deciding she’d just have to remain alert and look for another opening to escape, she kept pace with him to avoid having the behemoth tug on her ponytail again.
They climbed the stairs together, and the driver shoved her roughly at Victor, who steadied her and clamped his arm around her waist. “You sure you don’t want me to stay, boss?”
Victor shook his head. “Three’s a crowd in a situation like this. Just be back by morning. Take Dr. Clark home, and give him the case waiting in the front of the car.”
“He said something about wanting more for taking out her tooth.”
Victor shook his head. “No, we aren’t renegotiating. I appreciate the gesture, and tell him it ensures future work for him, but I’m not prepared to pay extra tonight. I doubt the good doctor can take a credit card,” he said with a chuckle.
As Carlisle started to leave, Victor cleared his throat. “The cuffs?”
Her blood stilled for a moment before her heart started galloping in her ears. “Cuffs?” she repeated, her throat dry.
Neither one of them bothered to answer her as Carlisle turned back around, removing handcuffs from his suit jacket. She tried to pull away, but Victor held her immobile, and Carlisle had an air that suggested he found her resistance little more than an inconvenience as he snapped the handcuffs on her wrists, binding them in front of her. She tried to take a small measure of comfort in that. If her hands had been behind her, she would have been even more immobilized.
Victor pulled her inside the fishing lodge, closing the door behind himself. He had at least four different locks, but she was relieved to note he hadn’t taken a page from Connor and Euan’s playbook and installed a biometric scanner. If she could get away from him, she had a good chance of getting out of the cabin.
“You look terrible, my dear. There’s blood all over your face. Would you like to wash up?”
She glared at him. “Why didn’t you try to rescue me?”
He laughed. “I think we both know you weren’t in any real danger. I knew you left with them voluntarily as soon as I saw you in your casual clothing, slipping away from the party. It was obvious you were running from me, and somehow you crossed paths with those two morons and teamed up together. I knew you’d betrayed me, so I wasn’t about to respond to their attempts to get me to meet them alone.” As he spoke, he lifted his hand and struck her across the face so fast she had no time to prepare or block the blow. She fell to the floor, agony exploding in her jaw as stars danced behind her eyes for a moment.
He strolled over to her as though he hadn’t been the one to knock her to the floor, holding out a hand to offer assistance. When she ignored it, he let out a long sigh, as though annoyed by her, and bent over to jerk her to her feet using one of her arms. It sent pain through her shoulder, but at least she was upright again. She felt better facing him when she was on her feet, though he was still taller than her and physically stronger. Sophia didn’t doubt she was smarter though. She’d have to use that to her advantage, because she wasn’t going to win in a full physical confrontation with Croft.
“I’m extremely disappointed that you let them touch you. I was prepared to accept you as my wife, to give you all the reverence and respect that would afford you, but things have changed, dear Sophia. I have you now, I can do what I want with you, and it won’t cost me a chunk of money to bail out your grandfather’s faltering company. Other than the fact they had their hands on you, it worked out well in the end.”
“They had more than their hands on me,” she taunted, hoping she could push him over the edge, make him lose control, and perhaps get him to do something stupid. “I had everything everywhere.”
He brought back his hand to slap her again, but this time she ducked away from him. “I enjoyed every minute of it too. It was nothing like it would be with you, Victor. You might be able to overpower me, but I’m never going to enjoy it. I don’t want you. The idea of you touching me makes my skin crawl.”
Rather than grow angry, he surprised her by laughing. “I know you’re trying to be tough and provoke me, but you’re just very adorable this way. You’re like a spitting kitten. I don’t think anything you could say would bother me tonight. I’m in too good of a mood from finally having acquired you.”
She tilted her head sideways slightly, giving him an assessing look. “Exactly how long have you been following me? Connor and Euan told me all about the little shrine you have in your house dedicated to me.”
He seemed unembarrassed that others knew about his stalking. “I noticed you for the first time seven weeks and four days ago, as you were having lunch with three other women.”
That he knew the exact time and day when he’d noticed her was creepy, but she trie
d not to fixate on that. He must have been referring to a lunch she’d had with her sisters-in-law a few weeks before. “So it wasn’t through my grandfather that you discovered me?”
He shook his head. “No, but Thorne provided a convenient means to get to you, especially as you spent more time with that side of your family. It was a simple matter to set up events, and then to set things in motion. Your grandfather was all too eager to take money in exchange for a marriage, and I didn’t mind marrying you if it meant I got to own you. Now, that won’t be necessary.”
She ignored his last part. “Since you spent time following me and learning about me, surely know who my family is?”
He stared, looking unconcerned. “Yes, I know you’re a mafia princess, but I also know you’re mostly estranged from your parents, or should I say your father and stepmother, and I doubt they’ll come looking for you.”
“My brothers did, and they will again.”
He seemed unconcerned. “Let them come. I doubt they’ll find us, but if they do, I have some surprises in store.”
Just the way he said it made her blood chill in her veins, and she shivered. “What kind of surprises?”
He seemed to debate about telling her for a moment before shrugging. “I guess there’s no harm in telling you, and maybe it will be beneficial. It’ll keep you from poking around outside and inadvertently tripping an explosive.”
Sweat beaded on her brow. “What sort of explosive?”
“The whole perimeter’s rigged with C-4, and if I see them approaching, I can blow it with the flip of a switch.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Won’t that kill us too?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps, but I’d rather die with you than live without you. More importantly, I’d rather see you dead than allow the O’Rourke brothers to have what’s mine.”
She looked for a hint of false bravado or insincerity in his gaze or tone, but found nothing. She was left with little doubt that he meant every word he’d just spoken, and he wouldn’t hesitate to consign them both to death in order to keep anyone from rescuing her.
That meant she was going to have to rescue herself and warn the others before they tracked down Victor’s fishing lodge.
Chapter Ten
“I found something,” said Euan loud enough for everyone in the office to hear. They were in Croft’s home, tearing it apart in search of a clue as to where the businessman might have taken Sophia. The Morettis had their men all searching different parts of the house, and they had dealt with the butler who had tried to stop them. He’d recover, though he was going to have a hell of a headache in the morning.
Connor and two of the three Moretti brothers, who were also tearing apart the office, moved closer. As he held up the invoice, he saw the third brother slip into the room too, obviously having heard Euan’s announcement.
“What is it?” asked Larenz.
“It’s a receipt for an order of adult items.” His stomach twisted with nausea at the idea of Victor using any of the items on the list against Sophia. “It has a delivery address.” He passed over the invoice when Larenz reached for it. “Isn’t that out by the lake? My guess is he has a lodge or a cabin out there, and that’s where he’s holding her.”
“We haven’t turned up anything else, so I say we have nothing to lose by checking this out.” Larenz passed the invoice to one of his brothers. “Make sure they have the coordinates of where we’re going. We want our backup.”
“And make sure everyone has a gun. Practically a hand cannon,” said the brother who had slipped in late to the room.
“I think everyone has weapons, Dante.”
Dante nodded at Euan and Connor. “Do you two have guns?”
Connor nodded, but Euan shook his head. “I don’t have a piece.”
“Make sure you get one, because whoever gets a line-of-sight on Victor had better damn well shoot him. After seeing that room full of pictures of Sophia, I want to make sure he’s out of the picture for good. We aren’t taking captives, and we aren’t letting the cops deal with this. We go in, we get Sophia out, and we execute that sick fuck to keep him away from our sister.”
Euan took the gun Armo held out to him, slipping it into the waistband of his pants after securing the safety, which was already on. “That sounds like a good plan to me.” If Dante had expected an argument, he wasn’t going to get one from Euan, and he was confident his brother wouldn’t offer any argument either.
They would both feel safer with Croft dead, because his was the kind of obsession that outlasted any adversity. He wouldn’t stop coming after her until he was dead, or she was, and that wasn’t an acceptable outcome. There was only one way this could end, and that was with Sophia back with them and Croft in an unmarked grave. He refused to consider any other alternatives.
Victor insisted on bathing her. She tried to protest, but he pointed out the handcuffs on her hands kept her from properly seeing to her hygiene needs. “You could unlock them.”
He had rolled his eyes at that suggestion. “I don’t think so. You haven’t earned that level of trust, and it will be a long time before you do, if ever. Besides, I want to make sure you’re fully cleaned. I don’t want any hint or proof of those two remaining on you.”
She had tried to sway him, even mentioning the shower she’d had just before the doctor attacked her, but Victor had been resolute.
They had engaged in a wrestling match, and she’d ended up in the bathtub fully clothed. As she was fighting him, she had the epiphany that she needed to lull him into a sense of security, no matter how false. She pretended that he had worn her down, and she had no energy left as she collapsed back against the tub. It was almost impossible to grit her teeth and allow him to take her clothes off without protest, but she had been surprised when he kept it all business, clearly wanting her clean as he’d mentioned.
Maybe he had a little OCD to go with his other mental illnesses, and he couldn’t stand the thought of germs or any residue from Euan and Connor marring her skin. Or maybe he just didn’t like the idea of sharing her, since the sick fuck clearly thought she belonged to him. Whatever the reason, he scrubbed her skin until it was nearly raw, but at least he didn’t touch her in too inappropriate a fashion. At least he hadn’t yet, but now he led her to the bedroom, making her walk in front of him wearing only the handcuffs.
“Sit on the bed, but don’t lie down yet. I’ve been anxious to feel your mouth around my cock ever since I noticed how perfect your lips were across the room in that restaurant.”
Her stomach rolled with nausea, and she wanted to turn her head away. It took everything she had to maintain her docile victim role, and not try to fight him as he pushed her firmly onto the bed before stepping back to shed his now-wet clothes. His gaze never wavered from her, and there was no opening.
His body blocked the exit to the bedroom, and he’d intercept her if she tried to run that way. There was a window, but she didn’t know its status. She couldn’t rely on being able to escape through it unless or until he was unconscious or dead. She knew Connor and Euan wanted that honor for themselves, but if she had the opportunity, she was going to kill this fucker. She was sure they’d understand the necessity and forgive her for taking that joy from them.
When he was as naked as she was, revealing a perfect body that was a stark contrast to the splintered mess of his mind, he came closer, hand on his cock at the base as he pointed it toward her. “Suck nicely. I have no doubt you’ve honed your skills with the O’Rourkes, so I expect you to know what you’re doing.” He paused abruptly, turning away from her long enough to reach for something in the nightstand. When he turned back, he held a gun, and he pressed it to her forehead. “And watch the teeth, darling. I’d hate to have to shoot you.”
She glared up at him. “After all the trouble you’ve gone to in order to acquire me, you aren’t going to shoot me.”
He looked thoughtful. “I certainly wouldn’t want to.” As he spoke, he stroked the barrel
of the gun down her cheek and across her neck, making her shiver, but not from pleasure. “Of course, there are places to shoot you that probably won’t be fatal, but would render you unable to move. The doctor showed me the best places to incapacitate you. I assume you don’t want to be paralyzed for the rest of your life? I wouldn’t want that either, but I can live with it, because then I can have full access to you without any protest at all.”
She glared up at him as he ran the cold tip of the gun across her nipple. It hardened in response, but not from arousal. The metal was cold, and fear was clawing at her insides.
He mistook it for a sign of pleasure and chuckled. “Are you a kinky girl?” When she didn’t answer, he let out another sigh, sounding frustrated, as he pressed his cock closer to her face. He abandoned the hand he’d kept on it as he neared her lips, instead placing it on the back of her head and dragging her forward. He had her curled up into an awkward “C” position, and she shivered when the gun rested in the middle of her spine.
She still wasn’t entirely certain he would actually shoot her, because even if the doctor had showed him exactly where to do so, there was still a high potential for the shot going wrong and killing her rather than crippling her. Since he was clearly unbalanced, and had supposedly strung C-4 around the property, perhaps he was crazy enough to risk it anyway. He seemed pretty far gone, so maybe he would have contented himself with her warm body, at least until it turned cold and hard, and then moved on to the next obsession.
With little alternative, as her mind raced, she stopped fighting as he pushed his cock through her mouth. She grimaced in disgust, holding herself limp and aloof.
He thrust into her mouth a couple of times with a grunt before slapping her upside the head. “I want an active participant, not a dead fish. Suck me.”
