Taken by Him: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Measha Stone

  “I want to go back upstairs,” I say with gritted teeth.

  “There’s that word again. Want.” His lips pull up into a wide, toothy smile.

  “You’re an asshole,” I say hard, shoving at his chest. He still has my hair and he grips it even harder, twisting a little until I grimace at the sharp pain shooting through my scalp.

  “Such a dirty mouth.” He turns away from me, walking me back to the breakfast nook where our plates still sit.

  “Dominik,” I say reaching behind myself and smacking at his hands. “Stop it. You’re hurting me.”

  “You wanted to play tough, Kasia, calling me an asshole. Not a great start to our relationship.” He’s mocking me. I hate him for it.

  “You are an asshole, now let me go!” I demand. I have zero leverage here, but still I force myself to be strong. I know what he thinks of me, of what my father has told him. Kasia’s an obedient little thing. She’ll just lie down and take whatever you dish out.

  “Again, she says it!” He laughs, but there’s no joy there. No levity.

  Dominik plants his left foot on the bench of the nook and turns a heated glare on me. “Say it again and I’ll turn you over my knee and show you what happens to naughty girls in my house.”

  This night has taken a turn I didn’t expect. How did I find myself here? Why can’t I stop myself, why do I push him?

  “You. are. An. Asshole. Dominik Staszek. A fucking asshole.” I enunciate each word. I’ve lost my mind. There is no other explanation.

  He smiles at me, like he’s pleased. Like I just made his day with my proclamation.

  “I like strong women, Kasia,” he says, then tips me over his leg. I’m dangling upside down, my butt high in the air on his knee. I scramble to find purchase on the floor, but I can’t touch. My hands don’t reach either.

  “Let me go!” I yell, swinging my hands at his calves.

  “I like strength, but I expect respect and obedience. At all times,” he informs me and before I can register his words, his hand makes contact with my ass. I stiffen at the first impact, almost unsure of what’s happening. Another and another smack of his hand and I’m fully aware. Warmth spreads over my cheek. He’s concentrating on one spot, spanking over and over again.

  I kick, but it does me no good.

  “Stop!” I say, ramming my fist into his calf.

  He pauses, and I take a deep breath. It’s over.

  But it’s not. He yanks my leggings down beneath my cheeks. Cool air touches my bare skin.

  “Not much protection back here,” he says and tugs the thin material of my panties up until they bunch between my cheeks. The bikini panties don’t cover much, but they’re more comfortable than thongs.

  “Dominik. Stop. Please,” I say in a calmer voice.

  “You made a choice, Kasia. Now you pay the price,” he says and lays into me again. He doesn’t discriminate this time and peppers both ass cheeks with hot spanks. I squirm and fight, but in the end, all I can do is give over.

  My ass burns, the heat spreads throughout my entire body.

  He stops spanking me, but rests his hand on my ass to keep me where I am. Tears have built in my eyes, but I’ve managed to keep myself from breaking into sobs. He won’t get that from me.

  Dominik rubs some of the sting away with his hand. It’s a gentle touch, throwing me off again. Is he a monster or not?

  Seconds tick by with nothing being said, then he tips me back to my feet. My panties are still stuffed between my cheeks, and I leave them there. I won’t dig out the wedgie he gave me with him staring at me.

  “Did you learn your lesson?” he asks. I expect gloating, but he’s being sincere. His tone is soft.

  “You don’t like cursing,” I say, managing to keep the snark from my tone. I don’t want to repeat the lesson. I just want to go to my room and let the humiliation kill me in privacy.

  He runs his hands over my hair. “No, Kasia. I don’t like disrespect. You’re an adult, if you want to curse go ahead. But you won’t be disrespectful.” He stands back and tucks his hands into his pockets. “You can go to your room now if you want.” He nods toward the front of the house.

  It strikes me then. All the lights are on in the house. The curtains were open in the living room before. They’re closed now. Someone came in while he was spanking me and closed them.

  A new wave of embarrassment rushes over me. Did his men out back see? There are no curtains on the windows here. They were out there smoking earlier; did they watch my humiliation?

  “Kasia.”

  I blink and move my attention back to him.

  “My men know better than to watch things that don’t concern them,” he says quietly. How does he understand my thoughts so easily? “Go on if you want. Or go downstairs and pick a movie.” He shakes his wrist and looks at his watch, a large piece of machinery. Not one of those high-tech watches, but an actual wristwatch. “I have some business to deal with tonight.”

  I’ve been dismissed.

  I nod in silence, unsure of what I will say if I open my mouth. Will I rage at him for touching me in such a way? Or will I kowtow to him? Either would be horrible. I yank my leggings back up in one quick tug and hurry away from him.

  “And Kasia,” he says as I reach the next room.

  I turn halfway so he knows I’m listening.

  “No touching yourself tonight. You get no pleasure on nights I have to discipline you.”

  Mortification sets in and I calmly make my way to the stairs. Step by step I get further away from him. Hot tears roll down my cheeks and I’m glad I’m already upstairs before they start to fall.

  Don’t touch myself?

  Once back in my room, I sit on the edge of the bed. How did he know how what he did affected me?

  Everywhere I turn there’s an enemy. Even when I look in the mirror.

  My body betrays me.

  I open my bag and change into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. Catching a glimpse of my bare ass in the mirror, I sigh. It’s red, but not as bad as I thought it would be.

  After I throw my hair up into a bun, I climb under the thick covers of the bed. I wipe away tears. I won’t cry because of this. I just won’t. This is my home now, my bedroom, my life.

  No, this may be where I live, but I’ll never call this my home.

  Chapter Seven

  Kasia

  The house is quiet in the morning. When I slip downstairs, it’s empty.

  “Good morning!” Margaret greets me when I enter the kitchen. She has a large smile and a plate of pancakes and sausage for me.

  “Is Dominik here?” I ask, settling into the breakfast nook. The home of my humiliation. Does Margaret know what he did to me? Would she have stopped him if she’d seen?

  “No. He left an hour ago. He’ll be back for dinner, though.” She puts a small pitcher with warmed maple syrup on the table.

  What am I supposed to do all day alone in this house? At home I had my computer, my phone, my life.

  “I think I’ll go to the bookstore if there’s one around here. Is there a car I can use, or can someone—”

  “That’s not a good idea.” Margaret shakes her head and goes to the sink. Of course, he would tell her I’m not allowed to leave. I’m not a prisoner, but I can’t go anywhere.

  I finish my breakfast and bring my plate and silverware to Margaret.

  “I can help you today,” I offer.

  Again, she shakes her head. “No, no. I have all this handled.” There’s a beeping sound and she scurries off to the iPad on the counter. After a few swipes there’s a live feed from outside playing. “Ah, looks like the men are back with your things.”

  “My things?” I slept later than I’d hoped to, but it’s still morning. How early had they gone to pick up my belongings?

  Two men carry in boxes and go upstairs. Apparently, they know where I’m sleeping. People are having conversations about me behind my back, it’s unsettling.

  After the
last box is brought up, I go up, too.

  “One of the girls should be here soon, I’ll send her up to help.” Margaret says from behind me.

  There’re three boxes in all. My entire life fits into three boxes.

  “No, that’s fine. Thank you, but it’s mostly clothes. I can do it. It will give me something to do.”

  She gives me a small smile then leaves me to it.

  It’s nearly all clothes. Nothing in my father’s house was ever really mine. I’m happy to find my laptop and my tablet, though. I have a full library on my tablet. If nothing else, I’ll be able to put a small dent in my reading list.

  After I’ve hung everything in the closet and put away everything else in the dressers, I sit in an armchair that faces the window. The backyard is large and sectioned off with fruit trees. A row of pine trees lines the back wall of the estate.

  Would it be hard to climb over the wall? More importantly, where would I even go?

  “Kasia.” The door to the room opens and Dominik walks in.

  “Can’t you knock?” I say, turning back toward the window. I thought I’d have a longer reprieve from him today. It’s barely afternoon. Shouldn’t he be working, shaking someone down or something?

  “Knock in my own house? No,” he says firmly and stands beside the chair. “I brought you this, but if you’re in a mood I can keep it a bit longer.”

  My phone is in his hand. I look up at him. No smile, just a raised eyebrow. I take it from him.

  “Thank you,” I say quietly.

  Has he done anything to it? Put some sort of tracking app on it? Can he see who I talk to, who I text?

  “I spoke with your father. He has to go out of town for a while, but he’ll call you this afternoon.” He slips his hands into his pockets. He’s wearing another suit. A black suit and tie set against a dark grey shirt. With his hair slicked back, and his beard neatly trimmed, he looks more like a handsome businessman than the demonic thug I’m sure he is.

  My phone’s dead; it needs a good charge.

  “How long will he be gone?” I ask. The longer he’s out of town, the longer the engagement. I’ll have time to think of a way out of this or get Dominik to change his mind.

  I get up from the chair in search of my charging cable. It was among my tablet and computer.

  “A few weeks at best. He mentioned you recently graduated. Did you have plans, a job offer maybe?”

  I had a lot of plans. A lot of things I wanted to do next. Getting married to a mob boss wasn’t one of them.

  “Kasia, I asked a question,” he says when I keep quiet.

  After I dig out the cable, I turn to him. “Does it matter? Would you change any of this if I did?”

  “No.” He answers without a second of hesitation and I have no doubt he wouldn’t have thought twice about his actions if I had a full life of achievements and goals ahead of me. My life means nothing to him. Not when he can use me for whatever purpose he has in mind.

  I shake my head and go about plugging the charger into the wall.

  “Then why bother asking?” I mutter.

  He doesn’t answer me, but instead walks to the empty boxes.

  “You’re unpacked all ready? Where are the other boxes?” he asks.

  “That’s all there was.”

  He goes to the closet and flips through my things.

  “What are you doing?” I demand, standing at the doorway.

  “Your father was supposed to send all of your things,” he says, looking annoyed.

  “He did,” I tell him.

  He looks back at the clothes but doesn’t make another comment. Did he think I was a prized possession that had been spoiled with baubles since childhood? He’d be sorely mistaken. Everything given was at risk of being taken. My father didn’t raise his hand to me, not once. He found more satisfaction in taking things away. He took away my toys as a child, kept me from my sister as punishment, and when there was nothing tangible to take anymore, he took away my freedom. Things and people can be taken away; it’s better not to have them in the first place.

  “I’m glad you don’t have any more dresses like the one you were wearing the other night,” he comments, pulling a sun dress from the rod and looking it over.

  “It was an old dress. It didn’t fit right. I don’t go out that often to need club clothes,” I explain, snatching my clothing from him and putting it back on the rack. “I don’t usually wear things like that.”

  He studies me for a long minute. Like I’m not what he thought I was. Though how he could have any sort of opinion about me in the past few days is beyond me.

  Though I have a damn good assessment of him.

  “Good.” He steps closer to me, brushing my hair from my shoulders. “How is your ass today?”

  His question throws me off balance. Before I can stop it, heat rushes to my cheeks, and I’m sure I’ve turned red right before his eyes.

  “I’m not talking about that with you,” I say and leave him in the closet.

  “Should I look for myself?” he asks, right on my heels.

  Spinning around to face him, I bump into his chest. With a rumble of laughter from his chest, he catches me and puts me at an arm’s length away. I hate how easily he handles me. How much my skin tingles with excitement when he lets go. I felt nothing when other men have touched me, but this man brushes against me, and I feel like a firecracker ready to go off.

  He grins. “Maybe I should.”

  “I’m fine,” I answer quickly.

  “No. I think I should check.” He tilts his head, like this is a dare. Do I obey him, or do I fight him? He stands a full head taller than me, and his muscular build suggests he could benchpress two of me without breaking a sweat. I’d never win in a physical fight with him.

  “I already answered you,” I say.

  “Are you afraid if I look, if I touch you again, you’ll get as excited as you were last night?”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” I stalk across the room and check my phone. There’s enough of a charge I can shoot out a text message.

  “Maybe not.” He’s behind me as I start typing. His hands rest on my shoulders, and he presses his chest into my back. If he’s trying to scare me, it’s not working. I should be afraid. All common sense points in that direction, but I can’t summon the fear. Maybe I’ve finally lost all sense and simply don’t care how I meet my end.

  “You may not be afraid of me, but you’re definitely scared of your reaction to me.” He brushes his lips across the shell of my ear. I freeze, my thumbs hover over the touchscreen of my phone.

  “I need to call my friend. She might be worried since I didn’t answer her the other night,” I say, letting all the bitterness saturate my words. He deserves them. He’s earned it.

  “Have you been spanked before last night? And I mean a real spanking, not a little tap from your father’s hand as a child.” He lets go of my shoulders and moves to the window, briefly looking down at the yard below before bringing his attention back on me.

  “I don’t want to talk about this.” I close my eyes, willing him to leave. It wasn’t enough to humiliate me last night; he wants to relive the embarrassment. I won’t play along with his games.

  “It’s a question, Kasia. How did your father punish you, as a child, as a teenager, as the woman you are now? Tell me.” He presses the issue. He’s like a dog with a bone; he’s not letting go.

  I text Trina that I’m fine, I’ll call her later, and drop the phone back to the table.

  “He didn’t hit me. No one has ever done what you did last night.” I stand straighter. I won’t show weakness now. “And I won’t allow you to ever do it again.”

  “Allow?” He laughs on the word. “That’s not the way this works, and you know it.”

  He’s right. I do know. I’m to obey. Do as I’m told. I live in the modern age, but my life is stuck in the traditions of the past.

  “Now answer me.”

  Why does he want to know this
so badly?

  “Parents punish their children.” I’m not even close to answering him, but I feel like staying away from the topic of my father with him.

  “They do. But how did your father choose to do it?” he asks.

  “He took my things from me,” I answer with a roll of my eyes. It sounds so silly saying it out loud. “Are you happy now?” I don’t tell him of the punishments when I was younger. When Diana was still alive. That my father would tear us apart and not allow us to see each other as punishment. Sometimes it would last weeks, once it went on for over a month.

  “Is that why you don’t have anything?” He looks around the room. Other than my electronics and a small jewelry box, I’ve added nothing to the room. “There’s nothing here but your clothes and some jewelry.”

  “Nothing in my room at my father’s house was really mine.”

  He studies me for a moment. The sun is already setting outside, and an orange cast falls over his face.

  “What do you want from all this, Dominik?” I ask when he seems content to stay silent. “Why would you want me to marry you? What do you gain? What did you give my father to get him to agree to this?” I’m being used as a pawn; shouldn’t I get to at least know the prize for the game?

  His smile falters a fraction and he open his mouth like he’s going to speak. He must think better of it, though because he snaps it shut and shakes his head.

  “Dinner will be ready soon. I’ll be out all night. Margaret can get you anything you need.” He steps away from the window and points to my phone. “Do not make me regret letting you have this back so soon.”

  I stare at him, unable to understand him. Why won’t he give me an answer to anything?

  He quietly leaves my room and shuts the door, drowning me in the emptiness once again.

  * * *

  My father’s supposed to be out of town, and he never calls me when he’s left the area. Work takes up too much of his time. So I’m surprised when my phone rings and it’s him.

  “Kasia, I only have a minute. I need you to listen to me,” he starts off right away, not even saying hello.

  “Hi to you, too, dad. I’m fine, thanks for asking. It’s not like—”