by Renard, Loki
“You must think I’m so fucking weak…”
“I do not,” he says, his tone a little sharp.
“You don’t understand. I went so far to get away from him! I had myself kidnapped by you. I was willing to let you sell me. I had this whole plan, and it worked! And then my father walked in last night, and I just crumbled. It was like I never had any strength at all.”
“He blindsided you, just like he meant to. He knew what he was doing, Siri. He even organized a little distraction for me to keep me from finding out what was going on. He knew I was watching out for you.”
“What did he do?”
“Burned my house down.”
“Fuck.”
“Real pity. I liked that place.”
Stavros
I don’t actually care about the house. I’m only telling her about it to make it abundantly clear to her, more than ever, that her father is a fucking monster and she shouldn’t feel bad about her inability to defy him, even when she can defy everyone else on the planet.
He has psychologically tormented her for years, made her think that she was nothing but an extension of him. It took serious strength and desperation for him to break away from his expectations and strike out, even in a dangerous way, getting herself taken and trafficked. But she did all of that away from him, out of sight of the big man. When he came to her in person, she was helpless to defend herself against the person who should have protected her the most. Parents have a short circuiting effect on the human psyche, and Siri is human. So perfectly, beautifully human.
I just wish I had gotten to her before the sick fuck her father sold her managed to touch her with his cock. I was on my way up when that was happening, my security guy reporting to me over the radio with a level of detail which left me in no doubt that Corelli needed to die.
If he’d left her alone, he would have lived. Penetration or not, the second his dick so much as touched her was the second he sealed his death sentence.
“Are you okay, Siri? I mean, I know you’re not okay, but are you okay?”
She looks at me and gives a little shrug. Of course she’s not okay. She was just forced into marriage against her will and very nearly… fuck. I should have shot him in the knee before I shot him in the face. Both knees. But that would have frightened Siri. He can thank her for his painless death.
I need to get her somewhere safe, somewhere she can recover and eventually no doubt tell me to go fuck myself again.
Chapter 11
Siri
I wake up wrapped in Stavros’ arms, and for a moment it is like the events of the past few days didn’t happen. I sink into his embrace. I take a deep, relaxed breath… and then the reality of the chaos sets in.
Don Corelli is dead. My father is going to be furious. He and his men will be coming for Stavros and I. After having failed at my forced marriage, I might not even be of use to my father anymore. He might want to wipe both Stavros and I off the face of the planet. I have known his rage before, and I know how destructive it can be. When my father does not get what he wants, worlds are destroyed until he is satisfied.
“Morning, beautiful,” Stavros greets me, his rough voice made soft by affection.
“Where are we?”
“Nice,” he says.
“Nice, France?”
“You know any other Nices?”
“You’re nices,” I smirk.
“Oh really?” He smiles at me, and for a moment we are like any other couple waking up on a sunny day. But the pressure of the darkness surrounding us soon forces its way back into my consciousness.
“My father is going to kill us.”
“Your father isn’t doing shit,” Stavros says succinctly. “Do you want a beer?”
“It’s first thing in the morning, so… okay?”
He gets up and goes to the fridge of the hotel room we’re in, grabs two beers from a six pack and tosses one over to me. I catch it and leave it closed, running my fingers nervously around the dewy top.
“Why aren’t you worried? The police will be looking for us. Don Corelli’s men will…”
“Don’t worry,” Stavros says, taking a long, satisfied sip of his beer.
“But my father is coming for you. And he has so much money, and…”
“Not as much money as you might think.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Siri, he was going to be paid a very tidy sum on the morning after your wedding night. The sale was contingent upon your deflowering.”
“He actually sold me?”
“Oh yes.”
I should probably be more shocked than I am, but of course I already knew that was what was happening. I’ve known it my entire life. It’s probably why I sought out the infamous seller to help me. He reminded me of my dear daddy, on some fucked up twisted level. Stavros is nothing like my father, though, and I thank god for that.
Stavros picks a tablet off a nearby tablet and hands it to me. There’s a video all cued up, waiting to play.
“This happened one hour after I picked you up.”
I press play.
“Holy…”
The video is being shot outside my father’s favorite mansion, where he is being led away in handcuffs. It is a shocking sight, mostly because I have never seen him like this before. When I see my father in person, he is a monster, completely filling the screen of my perception. Seen at the distance of a lens, he is not the frightening creature I take him to be. He’s a graying, paunchy, fucked up old man who deserves everything the law is going to throw at him.
“What’s happening? He’s being arrested, but for what?”
“Interpol have been on your father’s tail for years. They just never had a solid lead. I managed to get them one or two. His organization is already crumbling. The people who are no longer getting paid, but are getting arrested will turn on him, give evidence in return for lighter sentences. He’s got no money. And, on top of that, he’s facing a murder rap on Don Corelli.”
“You framed my father. For murder.”
“Yep.”
He does not look sorry, not one bit.
“Wow…” I re-watch the video, try to take what he is telling me in. It’s very neat, and very fucked up, and both those things are one hundred percent Stavros. “There’s no way this is going to work. He has lawyers.”
“Lawyers have this weird thing where they like to be paid with money,” Stavros says. “Your father is dead broke.”
“But what about me? Won’t people be looking for me?”
“They can look for you all they like. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m somewhat talented at hiding young ladies.”
Well, fuck. I replay the video a third time, and then a fourth, and then a fifth, until Stavros relieves me of the tablet.
“This is real?” I look at him, stunned. “I mean, this is over? All over?”
“Mhm,” he nods with a smile. He’s so fucking sexy, and he’s not even trying to be. I suppose I’m hugely attracted to men who save me and solve all my problems with a single bullet.
“Why did you do all of this? Just for me? What do you want from me?”
“Nothing,” he says, sitting in a chair and taking another swig of his drink. “You don’t owe me a thing, Siri. You don’t owe anybody anything. You’re free. You can go if you like.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” he nods.
“There has to be a catch.”
He leans forward, his hands around the beer, holding it between his knees as he fixes me with an intense look. “The catch is that I want you to be happy, whatever that means for you. I told you I love you, Siri. I can’t claim to love you and hold you hostage all over again. You’re free. I really mean that.”
I can’t believe him. It’s not physically possible to force the neurons of my mind to believe what he’s telling me. I was born indebted, told over and over that I was worth nothing besides what my father said I was worth. My mother was taken from me b
y an act of violence which showed me that my life could be snuffed out if I made the same mistake she did. And now Stavros, a man who sells women for money, who shoots other men dead, is telling me he has saved me from all of that? Not possible.
“Does that mean you want me to go?”
“Absolutely not,” he says. “I want you, Siri. I have always wanted you. From the moment I set eyes on you.”
“The moment you set eyes on me, you were trying to work out how much you could get for me.”
“That never crossed my mind.”
That, I find very hard to believe. Selling things is what Stavros does. He had me transported to his basement so he could train me and turn me into a commodity. I might have been saved from Don Corelli, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe from Stavros.
I’m probably being ungrateful. If it wasn’t for him, I’d have slept with a very old man and possibly be pregnant by now. Stavros saved me a hell of a life with one bullet. I know I owe him. And I know how he’s probably going to want to take payment. There’s only one currency men like him understand.
“So, do you want to, uhm, fuck me, then?”
“Always,” he says. “But not right now.”
“So… not always?”
“Siri, you’ve been through a lot. Just relax and let me take care of you.”
“Uh huh. Seriously. What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“There’s always a catch.”
“Not this time.”
I look him over. He’s so fucking handsome. I owe him my life and my freedom and everything else and he’s not even taking advantage of that. Maybe he really has changed. Or maybe I never really knew him at all.
“Since when are you a hero?”
“Since you needed one.”
I look at him, uncertain. I know he wants me, and he has to know how vulnerable I am right now. I would expect him to take advantage of that. Men like him always exploit weakness. My father did that ruthlessly.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Of course I owe you, but I can’t be with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you sell people. And I used you.”
“I don’t sell anyone anymore. I know you probably don’t believe me, but I’ve never lied to you, Siri, and I’m not going to start now.”
“You just… changed who you were, completely? Why?”
“Because of you, Siri. Because of what you did, and who you are.”
“And who do you think I am?”
“The most incredible woman in the world.”
I make a sound of disbelief. I’m not narcissistic enough to believe that. He’s playing games with me. He’s pretending to be the good guy so he can get something from me.
“You’re twice my age. I’m not even twenty yet. I can’t legally drink in the United States. And you’ve been using and selling women for decades, but suddenly you think I’m the most incredible woman in the world, and you changed your entire outlook on human trafficking because of me?” I shake my head. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that?”
He draws in a deep breath, and I can see something in his eyes. A weight, almost like sadness, but more profound.
“I’m sorry I’ve lived my life in such a way that you can’t trust me. I’m sorry you’ve been treated in a way that makes it impossible for you to, even if I wasn’t… me. If I have to spend the rest of my life proving myself to you, I will.”
He sounds heartfelt and real. He sounds deep and meaningful.
“What game are you playing, exactly?”
“No games,” he says.
“There’s always a game.”
“Okay,” he says. “Then I’m going to play this game. It’s a game where I look after you, and make sure you’re safe and happy and well, and if you decide you want to be with me, then we’ll have a long and happy life together, and if not, you’ll still have that, because it is what you deserve.”
I give him a long look, then snap my fingers and point at him. “I don’t believe you.”
Stavros
Of course she doesn’t believe me. Siri has never known real love. She doesn’t even comprehend unconditional care. Saving her from Don Corelli was the easy part. Saving her from a lifetime of programming telling her men are bastards who have to be lied to and used before they lie and use her is going to be much more difficult.
She is still young though, and that is in her favor. The skills I developed handling and training girls for market will work just as well on this broken little brat I intend to one day make my wife.
“You don’t have to believe me,” I smile. “You hungry? Want some breakfast?”
“Sure. Or maybe… no,” she says, cagey even about that.
“You don’t know if you’re hungry?”
“I don’t know how to be around you when you’re not… you,” she whines suddenly. “You’re The Seller. That’s who I know. I don’t know who Mr Do You Want A Beer For Breakfast Is.”
And that’s when it clicks for me. Siri might be free, but she’s so used to being controlled. She needs boundaries. Discipline. She needs me to be a healthy version of the man who caged her and then fucked her.
I can do that.
More than that, I want to.
She’s right that I can’t just leave my old self behind and turn into Mr Puppies and Kittens. I’m always going to be dominant. I’m always going to be possessive, and I’m always, no matter what, going to make sure she’s safe. I almost failed her. Some might say I did fail her. Her bastard father managed to get her down to aisle and into that old fucker’s bed. I only just preserved what might be called her virtue.
I have some making up to do. I have some putting back together as well. And it starts with making sure she eats.
Siri
“You’re having breakfast,” he says, turning to order room service.
I feel the anxiety that had been bubbling beneath my skin start to subside. I’m having breakfast. There’s order in the world. Good.
“I’m not hungry.”
He’s on the phone with room service, but he raises a dark brow at me and shakes his head ever so slightly.
Okay, so maybe I’m testing him. Maybe.
“Siri,” he says calmly, hanging up the phone. “You’re free to leave… but if you stay, you’re going the right way to getting a good, long, spanking.”
“You can’t do that! I was just forced into marriage! I saw a man die!”
“You know what you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re acting like a spoiled little brat,” he says, his hands going to his hips. God. He’s so fucking handsome, standing there powerful and dominant and so fucking protective of me. I’m lucky. Far luckier than I deserve to be. When I came up with the plan to get myself sold, I didn’t really know who would get hold of me. It could have been someone who destroyed me. Instead, I have this dark angel of a man who has given up everything for me, who has killed for me.
“Maybe,” I admit, allowing myself a little smirk.
“And you know what?” He takes a step closer and leans down toward me.
“What?” I ask the question softly, breathlessly.
“That’s fine by me. I like spanking your little ass anyway. Always have.”
A blush rushes over my cheeks. I want his hands on me again. I want to feel the power of his body surging inside mine. I want to be reclaimed from everything that has happened to me. I want to forget that I am my father’s daughter. I want to throw away my last name and take…
“What is your last name?”
“Makris,” he says. “Stavros Makris.”
“Nice to meet you,” I smirk, thinking to myself how my name would sound twinned with his. Siri Makris. It has a nice ring to it.
Am I really thinking about marrying him the day after I was forced into marriage? Yes. Yes I am. Because I’m starting to thi
nk that everything I have suffered, my entire twisted, brutal life, has lead me to this place and this man.
“Mhm,” he drawls sternly, having no idea what’s going on in my head. “Are you going to behave yourself?”
I smile up into his face. “Absolutely not.”
He smirks and I see that dark flash in his eyes, the one which heralds some delicious little cruelty.
“Good,” he drawls.
He traces his fingers up the side of my neck, brushes his palm against the side of my cheek and then grasps my hair, pulling me into a hot, close, heated kiss of pure passion. When he talks, I don’t believe him. But when he touches me, I can feel exactly who he is. There’s no confusion in these moments, just truth.
Last night, he brought me to this room and he laid me down in bed without saying a word and just held me until I fell asleep. I have never been safer in anyone’s arms. He is a fortress against the evil of the world, even when I think he is the evil.
He pulls away, breaking the kiss, and he looks so deep into my eyes I feel as though he can see my fucking soul.
“Be as bad as you want, baby,” he says softly. “I’m here for it.”
“ROOM SERVICE! WE HAVE YOUR WAFFLES!” A loud, cheerful lady barges into the room with all the tact of a small tank.
Stavros takes care of it, tipping her generously and asking her if she could possibly be a dear and put the do not disturb sign on the door when she leaves. He can be so diplomatic when he wants to be. The ruddy faced maid clutching her fifty Euro note would never suspect the sort of depravity her charming customer is capable of.
“Waffles,” he says. “An American breakfast.”
“I can think of a better use for the syrup.”
He smiles, flashing wicked teeth. “Are you seducing me, Siri?”
“Have you ever needed to be seduced?”
“Not with you,” he admits. “But I want you to eat.”
I give in to him, and to the deliciousness of the waffles. We’ve never had breakfast together before. We’ve never done a million simple normal things that people do. Everything in our experience together has been high octane, deadly, and sexual.
