by Ella Miles
He stands up, seeming taller somehow, and lifts me back into his arms. “You look like Nina, and I like taking care of people. It’s a curse.”
I frown. He could have fooled me about the taking care of people. He only takes care of me after he drugs me and I literally can’t function without him. Dierk is twisted if he thinks Matteo is warmhearted.
He carries me down the hallway to the dining room where two plates of food are already sitting in front of our usual seats.
He leisurely drops me into my seat. None of his men are seated at the table. I glance out the window behind him and realize it’s the middle of the day, not morning.
“How long have I been out for?” I ask.
“A few hours. I gave you a much smaller dose.”
I exhale. Only a few hours. I’m not sure if I believe him, but I need to if I’m going to keep my sanity.
I start shoveling the eggs and toast into my body without waiting for him to permit me. Despite having at least one hearty meal a day for the past couple of weeks, I’m still starving, especially after not having eaten for however long I was out.
Matteo stares at me, not touching anything but his coffee.
I try to ignore him, but it’s impossible to ignore his presence. He’s just sitting there, but I can’t enjoy the eggs I’m putting in my mouth because all I can think about is him. What he wants, what he’s thinking.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my mouth jammed full with toast.
He shakes his head, ignoring my question.
I keep eating. I’ll need it to regain strength for whatever ridiculous plan he is scheming next. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, and I can’t help but notice he’s different. Tired. Worn down.
His eyes are bloodshot like he hasn’t slept in a week or is high. His clothes are ragged like he hasn’t showered or changed in days. I notice the spots of dirt and blood scattered over his shirt and jeans. It’s not a lot, but enough to make him look like he’s been through hell and back.
“What happened?” I ask, staring at the blood. I don’t know if it is his or someone else’s.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he glances past me like I’m not here.
Strange. He usually answers all of my questions. Today though, all I get is silence.
I don’t like silence. I know from experience when the men I prosecute become quiet and stop talking, that’s when things start happening. They make one last desperate attempt to get what they want. And it’s never pretty. Someone ends up hurt or dead.
I need to keep Matteo talking. I need him to go back to the old Matteo, who was solely focused on Nina. He requires focus to keep him going. And I need him to keep his sights on getting Nina back to stay alive long enough to escape.
I eat the last drop of runny eggs with the last piece of bread, sopping up every last drop. I lean back in my chair trying to remain relaxed. Food in my stomach makes me calmer. But it won’t last, not with this Matteo.
The old Matteo was predictable, this man sitting at the table next to me is erratic. He’s dangerous. A flip has been switched, and I’m not sure how to turn the switch back off.
I have to change my plan. I have to do something daring for a chance to get out of here.
“I’ll tell you where Nina is, but I have some things I need in return.”
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t react. This is the one thing he claims he wants above everything else. The thing he kidnapped me for, but he doesn’t care.
“She’s in Monterey Bay, Jamaica.”
I wait for him to answer. For his eyes to grow big or him to grin so widely he can’t contain it. Or for him to smirk and let me know he realizes it isn’t true. He doesn’t do any of these things. He sits in his chair like I don’t exist.
I glance around. No one is in the dining room. Most of Matteo’s men are gone or are hanging around in their offices or the living room. If I got up and walked out, would anyone stop me?
I consider it for a second before I realize it’s a stupid idea. Far too risky. If Matteo were to snap to and realize I ran off, he would probably kill me when he found me.
“Did you hear me? I told you where to find your precious Nina.”
Nothing.
“Matteo!” I slap him on the cheek. It feels good to have my hand hit his rough face, even though my arms are weak and the hit was more of a light slap. So light that it didn’t even make a satisfying sound when our skin touched.
It does earn me a growl and a glare.
I smirk. “Glad to bring you back to the living. Did you hear me?”
“Yes. I’m not deaf.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I heard you, but it wasn’t worth responding to. It was a lie. We both know it. You want some of your control back. You want to know what’s going on so you can try to get one step in front of me. Well, guess what sweetheart? Not everything revolves around you and Nina. Sometimes, I have more important things to worry about.”
I wrinkle my brow. “Like what?”
“Nothing that concerns you. You need to shut up. I need to be alone right now, and even though I can’t be alone because I have to babysit you, I can at least pretend in the silence.”
“You could let me go if you want to be alone.”
“I said, shut up!” His voice beams, bouncing off the high ceilings and walls so loudly I’m sure anyone in the house could hear him.
“No.”
The anger rolls off his body, but there’s something else mixed with it too. I’m playing with fire, but maybe figuring out what is going on is the key to gaining my freedom. I need to know everything I can about Matteo. It’s the only way I can be free.
Matteo shoves his uneaten plate of food in front of me.
“Eat. I know you are still hungry and if your mouth is full, maybe you’ll stop fucking talking.”
Damn it. My stomach aches at the sight of more food. I could use more nourishment. Who knows when my next meal will be.
But it’s a distraction. I know that. But it’s a diversion that is going to work.
I dig in, filling my belly. It will only work temporarily, and then I’ll be back to questioning Matteo every second until he starts speaking.
“Matteo Carini, it’s been a long time,” a deep voice bellows through the dining room.
I keep shoveling in food as I turn in the direction of the man who has entered. It’s not a man I recognize, but I haven’t met all of the men who work for Matteo.
“Not long enough,” Matteo answers.
The man chuckles and walks over and takes a seat opposite me and next to Matteo. He leans back in his chair, ignoring me completely as he stares at Matteo.
It gives me a chance to study him. He’s well dressed in dress pants and a buttoned-down shirt. It fits his body perfectly, like it was handmade for him. His hair is gelled and his face cleanly shaven. He doesn’t look like the rest of the men who are employed by Matteo. They wear clothes to make them look as menacing as possible. Dark jeans, shirts, and jackets. Items they can quickly move in and store weapons in. Not suits meant for an office.
“Your sister is ridiculous,” the man says, leaning back in his chair.
Matteo glares at the man. “Careful,” he warns.
“What? We’re friends. And you know how your sister can be. I came by to ask her to go with me to the ball my family is throwing.”
“Just because we are friends doesn’t mean you can say anything bad about my sister because she turned you down.”
“I didn’t say anything mean. I could have called Gia a bitch or cunt or something.”
Matteo is going to kill him. They don’t appear to be friends to me.
“What do you want Armas?” Matteo growls.
Armas grins at Matteo’s foul mood. “You know what I want. The same thing I’ve wanted for the past couple of years.”
“Gia will never go out with you.”
“Why not? She should. I’m handsome, charming, have almost as much money as thi
s family. I’m your best friend, so we already have your blessing to date.”
“You don’t have my permission to date my sister. Not that it matters, because she will never date you.”
“Not without some help. Come on Matteo, put in a good word for me.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because we are friends and I have saved your butt plenty of times.”
Matteo narrows his eyes. “When? Because all I ever remember you doing was running when I needed your help.”
Armas laughs. “They were shooting at us. What was I supposed to do?”
“Stay and fight like a real man.”
“And get killed? No, thank you. Where is your brother anyway? He’s the one who usually saves your ass.”
“None of your business.”
Armas cracks his neck side to side. “Why won’t Gia go out with me? She is going to my family’s ball anyway. You all are. So why won’t she go with me?”
Matteo shakes his head. “You are clueless. She won’t go out with you because she’s in love with another man.”
Armas laughs like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “You can’t be serious. She doesn’t fall in love. She’s a Carini. Carinis are ruthless, uncaring, and controlling. They don’t deal with things as simple as love.”
My eyes burn into Matteo. It’s not true. Arlo is definitely in love. He gave up his whole family, his entire life to live a life on the run with Nina.
Matteo doesn’t mention Arlo. Apparently, no one in town knows Arlo is gone or the reason.
“Well, call it lust then, but Gia is still hung up on the last guy that took her out on a date, so forgive her if she isn’t interested in letting you take her out.”
Armas sighs and leans back in his chair until his feet go up on the table. As he does, he notices I’m in the room for the first time. A creepy smile slinks up on his face as he gawks at me.
“And what’s your name, beautiful?”
I shovel in the last bite. “Eden.” I stare at him cautiously, letting him know not to mess with me.
Armas looks to Matteo. “Seriously? You have a slave? I thought the stories were only rumors.”
Matteo shrugs. “When will you learn all of the rumors are true?”
Armas cocks his head to the side. “Well, well, it’s my lucky day then.”
“I don’t know why? You have no luck,” Matteo says.
Armas turns his head toward me. “You can give me some luck by letting me borrow your slave tonight. It will help me get over your sister.”
Matteo crosses his arms across his chest. “And why would I do that? She’s mine.”
I swallow hard, not sure about this exchange at all or what I want to happen. For one, I want both men to stop referring to me as a slave. And two, I don’t know whose side Armas is on. If he takes me, maybe I can convince him to help me escape. But if not, then I want Matteo to win. Matteo, I understand. Matteo, I know what to expect from him. Armas would be like starting all over. And he might have no problem hurting me unlike, Matteo.
“Because you owe me. And I know your little secret.”
“What secret is that?”
“You just told me to trust the rumors. And the rumors are Arlo fell in love with the last slave the family brought home. He’s run off with her.” He cuts his eyes to me. “I have a feeling this new slave has a lot to do with fixing your little problem. But she doesn’t appear too broken to me. Let me have my fun, I might be able to help you, and I’ll promise to keep your secret.”
Matteo growls and grabs Armas by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t threaten me. You know what I’m capable of.”
“Not threatening, simply offering my assistance.”
Paul, one of Matteo’s men, enters the room.
“Sorry to interrupt. There has been another attack,” Paul says.
“I’ll be right there,” Matteo says, dismissing Paul.
He waits until Paul has disappeared before he gets up from the table and jerks Armas back in the chair.
“Babysit her for me, I have to go,” Matteo says, walking away.
I watch him walk away from me, and I’m not sure whether to be happy or terrified. With each step he takes, I think he’s going to stop, turn around, and tell Armas to go to hell. I think he’s going to say I’m his slave and no one else has permission to touch me. Matteo isn’t the kind of man who can share easily. He likes being in control.
But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t say another word. He leaves me alone with a man who claims to be his friend, but from the short exchange I witnessed, I know he is anything but his friend.
Matteo’s gone, and I’m left with a man who is a stranger. I don’t know what he wants from me. I don’t know what drives him. I don’t know what his weaknesses are. I don’t know anything about him. I need to tread carefully.
“How long have you known Matteo?” I ask, trying to make light conversation. It might give me some clue to who he is and how to survive until Matteo gets back or better yet, escape.
He smirks. “Since the day I was born. Our families are both rich, old, and know each other well.”
“So you sell weapons too?”
He chuckles. “No, we only meddle with legal things. Our family sells wine.”
“So you aren’t as rich since you don’t do illegal things?”
His eyes narrow. “I guess not.”
“Are you and Matteo truly friends? Because it seems there is more to your friendship than either of you are saying.”
“Does it matter if we are friends or not?”
I shrug. “No reason. I might be able to help you if you are more enemies than friends.”
He leans across the table with a smirk on his face. “Oh, yea? And how could you help me?”
“I’ve been here a month or two now, and I’ve overheard plenty of secrets I’m sure could help you take Matteo down.”
He laughs. “No secrets I don’t already know.”
“I know his weaknesses. It’s how I’ve ensured he hasn’t touched me or hurt me.”
He leans back in his chair again and folds his arms across his chest while he raises an eyebrow. “Really? He has a slave he never uses?”
I nod. “He is using me to get his brother back. Help me escape, and you’ll cause him more pain than you can imagine.”
He stands up and walks around the table to my side and leans against the edge of the table.
“I have a better idea.”
I bite my lip and tuck my matted hair behind my ear. “And what’s that?”
“I’ll fix his problem.”
I narrow my eyes not understanding until I see the gleam in his eyes. His eyes darken, his grin widens, and he licks his bottom lip like he’s about to devour the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted.
“I’m going to rape you.”
7
Eden
Rape.
I’ve known it was a possibility since Matteo forced me onto his private plane, but I always thought I would be strong enough to stop it from happening. I’ve taken self-defense classes. I’m smart and know how to find people’s weak points and exploit them. I thought I would be able to escape long before anyone even attempted to rape me.
Matteo thought about raping me. I saw the glimmer in his eyes every now and again. He couldn’t do it, or at least I don’t remember him doing it. Something held him back. I can’t rely on the same thing happening with Armas. I don’t know him, but from the way he’s devouring me, I think he’s far more evil than Matteo has ever pretended to be.
I swallow hard.
“You’re not going to rape me.”
His grin widens. “You’re a spitfire, huh? I’m going to enjoy this.”
“No, you’re going to be sitting with a bag of ice on your balls for a week, recovering from your wounds.”
He purses his lips together as he studies me up and down. I don’t look like much, not in my weakened state, bu
t it doesn’t matter. Let him think I’m delicate and incapable of anything; it will only make it easier for me to escape.
I have to take him down. Matteo is gone, along with all of his men, dealing with whatever latest attack. If I can get past Armas, then I might be free.
I try to decide if I should wait for him to grab me or strike first. My blood is pumping, already full of adrenaline. My legs bounce, and my mouth dries. I feel the fear, but mostly the excitement, at the possibility of being free.
Free.
I never thought I would be begging to be released. I never thought I would have to struggle for it, but that’s what I’m going to do. And when I gain it back, I’m going to fight every day to ensure every other innocent, kidnapped person is freed and stays that way.
I can’t wait for Armas to try and take even more from me. I have to run. Now.
I ball my hand into a fist, and then I jab it forcefully into his neck as hard as I can. My arms are weaker than usual, but the adrenaline and determination make up for the disability.
He grabs his throat as he struggles to breathe.
I jump out of my chair and start running. I don’t shoot out the back of the house. I know what awaits me back there. An immense forest and rolling hills that lead nowhere. I’d be sprinting for days to get to anyone who could help me. I don’t have the strength to flee more than a few hours at best.
Instead, I race toward the other side of the house, which leads out to the garage. I need a car if I have a chance to escape.
My legs stumble as I run, like they are going to give out at any moment, but I don’t let the fear of falling consume me. Instead, I allow it to drive me forward. I let it fill me.
The fear of failing. The fear of giving up. The fear of what would happen if Armas caught me. The fear of what will happen to Nina if I don’t stop Matteo from finding her. I let it all fuel me to make my legs move faster.
I don’t know if it’s enough. I know I’m not quicker than Matteo. Armas appears fit. He doesn’t look like he’s had a day of manual labor, unlike Matteo who gets his hands dirty protecting his business on a daily basis. Armas is used to sitting in a corporate office building, away from the action. Hopefully, my fitness will be enough to outrun him.
