by J. L. Beck
Pushing the blanket off, I get up and go back into the bathroom to get the first aid kit. When I get back, I push the blanket all the way off her body so I can take a good look at her knees. She has some good-sized gashes, some of which still have gravel stuck to them.
I take my time cleaning her wounds, then put ointment on both sides before I inspect the rest of her body. She’s wearing one of my plain white shirts, which has a smile tugging at my lips for some reason. I like the way she looks in my clothes and surrounded by my things.
I do my best not to think back on my little obsession with her. I’ve kept an eye on her since the funeral, which was not easy since her father kept her locked away.
Lucky for me, her dear old dad has a gambling problem, which only escalated after his wife’s death. He thought as the head of his family, he couldn’t run out of cash, he was wrong. The more money her father took from me, the deeper his debt became, and the closer she got to being mine.
Looking down at my prize, I take her in and smile. She must not have seen the women’s clothes I bought for her on the other side of the closet. I highly doubt she would have chosen my shirt on purpose if she knew there were others available.
Pushing up the sleeve on the shirt, I look over her slender arm, and find some bruises forming on her upper arms from Roger grabbing her so harshly. Gritting my teeth, I feel the need to kill him all over again. No one touches what’s mine, and no one bruises her flesh. Killing Roger was a warning to my men tonight.
Touch or hurt her in any way, and your life is over.
Pulling the blanket back up, I cover her body once more and put the first aid kit back in the bathroom. Standing at the edge of the bed, I stare down at her.
Romero thought he could kill my mother and that I wouldn’t seek revenge. He probably didn’t see me as a threat then as I was not interested in taking over the family business at the time. I was young and foolish, letting my uncle run the family after my father died of a heart attack. Romero was a foolish man to underestimate me, and tonight he learned a valuable lesson. He watched me take the one thing that matters to him. His only child. His incredibly naive and sheltered daughter.
I know he’s expecting the worst, everyone knows what kind of man I’ve become since taking over the Moretti family. People know I have no mercy. If you disobey me, if you betray the family, then you’re as good as dead. My uncle learned that the hard way. When I killed him.
Just like Elena does, Romero thinks I’m going to hurt her, which was always part of my plan. I’m going to drag out the pain, drive the knife deep, and then twist it. I’ve had forever to think of this plan, to ensure it goes off without a hitch.
Smiling, I think of what I will do first. Let him wallow in his misery, thinking that I’m doing all kinds of things to his daughter, unimaginable things while he is sitting at home unable to rescue her.
After a few weeks, I will show her off and show him how much control I have over her. I’ll marry her and put my baby inside of her. But the icing on the cake will be when I have her wanting me. When she willingly chooses me over him. That will be the final blow, the nail in his coffin. The mere thought of exacting revenge gets my adrenaline pumping.
Romero should be thankful I haven’t killed him. Yet. I didn’t want the bastard to die before he could see what I have in store for his daughter. As if my sweet dark-haired Elena can hear my thoughts, she murmurs something in her sleep, the low sound drawing me out of my thoughts. Tonight has been a very tiring night for my soon to be bride, but tomorrow, I will let her in on my plan.
No matter what, she will become my bride. She’ll give me an heir, and she will bend to my will and my rules, or she’ll face the consequences.
Crawling back into the bed and under the sheets, I shut the light off and tug her to my chest. As if she subconsciously knows that she needs me, that I’m her only chance of survival, she burrows into my side. Cuddling into me like I’m her salvation.
The warmth of her body washes against mine, slamming into me, blanketing me. Holding women isn’t my thing, cuddling or being close. It’s personal, too much, but I need Elena to get used to me, and truthfully, I need to get used to it as well.
For a long time, I lie there wide awake. Turning my head, I bury my face in her thick hair. For years, I envisioned doing just this. Inhaling her scent deep into my lungs, sleep finds me, Elena’s beautiful face flickering through my mind as I close my eyes.
I’ve got my bride, and it doesn’t matter how much she fights it.
She’ll help me get my revenge without even knowing it.
5
Elena
When I awake I’m sluggish, my mind is a murky pond of water, and I’m trying to see through it and to the bottom. It takes only a second for me to remember the events from the night before, and my eyes flutter open at the same time, my body jackknifes upward and into a sitting position. For a fraction of a second, dizziness overtakes me and then fades away.
Frantically, I look down at my body and find myself still clothed. Clenching my thighs together, I don’t feel any soreness or pain.
He didn’t touch me, at least not sexually.
Looking at the spot beside me where he laid before I fell asleep, I find that it’s empty. Relief floods my veins, but that relief is short-lived when I hear a throat clear across the room.
“Good Morning, Elena.” His deep husky voice makes me shiver.
Slowly looking his way, I find he’s leaning against the wall, wearing nothing besides a pair of low hanging shorts. His muscular chest is on full display, an assortment of tattoo’s etched into his skin. I can feel his eyes on me, feel them watching the steady rise and fall of my chest.
When I glance up to look at his face, I take in the scratches I left on his face last night. I still can’t believe I did that, and I’m still expecting retribution.
There is a tray of food on the table beside him, and my stomach rumbles loudly as I eye it. I’m hungry, but not starving.
“Hungry?” he asks the obvious, clearly able to hear my rumbling belly. “I had one of the maid’s bring up breakfast. You should eat while we discuss what is going to happen next.”
“I’m not hungry,” I lie and tug the sheet higher.
It’s like no matter how many pieces of fabric separate us or how much space, I still feel as if I’m exposed, one second away from being completely naked.
Shrugging as if he doesn’t care if I eat or not, he plucks a piece of fruit off the stray and pops it into his mouth, chewing very slowly. “Suit yourself. Do you want to hear what’s going to happen next, or are you not interested in that either?”
He’s baiting me, and as badly as I want to turn in on myself and refuse to play his game, there is nothing like not knowing what your opponent’s next move is. It’s clear to me that this is a game to him, and I’m the unwilling pawn.
“Tell me.”
Smiling, he seems pleased that I’ve taken his bait. “As you read in the contract, you are mine now. You belong to me, and I can do with you as I please.”
“That contract doesn’t mean anything. You can’t buy a person, and you forced me to sign it. It can’t possibly be legal if I didn’t willingly sign it.”
“I know your dad kept you in the dark, and I know you’re naive, but you are not stupid. You know what kind of family you come from, and you know that we don’t play by society’s rules. You are part of my world, and in our world, that contract is binding till death.” His words are like a knife cutting any ounce of hope that I had.
I don’t know why I even dare ask my next question, but if I don’t, I won’t know how to prepare for my next fight.
“What do you want from me then?”
“Everything. Starting with you sleeping in my bed every night. You will live here with me, and there will be no privacy. For now, you will stay in this room. If you want freedom, you have to earn it, and you can do that by following the rules and obeying me. If I tell you to do something, you
do it. There will be no fighting.”
“Of course,” I scoff. “You kidnap me and expect me not to fight when you try and hurt me? You’re right… I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t kidnap you, and I haven’t hurt you…” The words trail off, and his gaze narrows on me. My throat bobs as I swallow around the lump of fear there. I’m terrified and trying my best not to show it. Julian is the type of man that will take a mile if you give him an inch.
“Yet,” I add.
“Correct, yet. You can keep yourself safe and earn freedoms so long as you obey me.”
It’s like being at home all over again. Trapped. No freedom. No joy. My stomach twists into a knot, and I think I might puke.
“A month from now, you will become my wife, and then you will be completely mine. In the time leading up to that, I want your complete submission. You will listen to me and trust me without question.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away, fisting the sheets a little tighter. Tears are a weakness, and I don’t want him to see how weak I am, how weak I feel. My chest tightens, and anger rips through me.
Why would my father give me to this man? Why would he let him take me without right or reason? This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to be given to a man that would keep me safe, that wouldn’t hurt me. I didn’t expect love or even to be equal to my future husband, but I didn’t expect to become a rug beneath his feet either.
“Let’s see how well you listen.” He claps his hands together and walks over to the bed. “I want you to get up and take a shower.”
My mind is racing. There has to be a way out of this, but I have nothing to barter, nothing but my body which he already owns.
“Please,” I whisper softly, willing him to see me as a human and not an object. “There has to be something else you want. Someone else you want?”
Cocking his head to the side, he stares at me wearily before his entire face goes blank. A moment later, a mischievous grin appears on his lips, and I know I’ve made no headway.
“I have everything I could ever want. Money, power, status, and now I have you too. I don’t want anyone else. There is nothing more in this world that I could want or need.” Darkness clings to each word, and I feel my escape slowly slipping away. Spiraling out of control, I need to gain some type of ground. I can’t let him win. I can’t.
Scurrying off the bed, I make it all of three feet before he’s on me. Like a cat, he pounces, his fingers finding, and wrapping around my throat as he shoves me back against the mattress. I land in a heap, the air ripping from my lungs on impact.
All over again, I’m trapped between him and the mattress, this time though, his hand is wrapped around my throat, his grip firm but not bruising, his eyes dark and stormy. He’s calculating and fierce.
He holds all the power, and I’m nothing more than a pawn in his sick, twisted game. He has no reason to want me. A man of his stature could have any woman he wants.
“Please,” I croak and grab onto his wrist, trying to pry his hand away. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me, take and take until there isn’t anything else to take. “Please don’t…” I’m not sure what I’m asking him not to do, all I know is that I don’t want him to hurt me or rape me. I’m not sure I could come back from that type of pain.
Leaning into my face, his nose brushes over mine, it’s such an intimate action that doesn’t match his behavior. He watches me cautiously as I tremble. I can’t allow myself to fall for his softness. I have to remember he is the one who hurt me, the one who took me away in the middle of the night.
Pulling back an inch, his steely gaze roams my face. I can feel the power he exudes as he holds me to the mattress without barely any effort.
The weight of his body, the steel rod between his legs pressing into my belly, a reminder of what’s to come. It’s frightening. How he could easily snap my neck with nothing more than the flick of his wrist or steal my virtue while holding me against the bed.
“Then don’t make me. Take off your fucking clothes, get in the shower, and listen to what I tell you. I’ve already shown you more mercy than I should have. Don’t force my hand, Elena, don’t make me hurt you; I promise you that it won’t be something you easily forget. You think I’m a monster now, but you haven’t even seen a sliver of what I’m capable of.”
I don’t realize how much I’m trembling until he pulls away, releasing my throat and taking the warmth of his body with him.
For a moment, I simply lie there, my chest heaving, fear pumping through my veins. My hand moves on its own, pressing against the flesh at my throat where it still feels as if he’s holding me, his grasp like a steel shackle.
“Are you going to obey, or do you want to test my patience and resolve?” he whispers, and I decide to swallow my pride, and my need to escape for the time being. There will be other instances where fighting back is more worth my while. I need to save my strength.
Sitting up, I come to stand on shaky legs, cross the room, and walk into the bathroom, feeling his presence at my back the entire time.
Once inside the bathroom, the lights flick on, and my eyes burn at the brightness. I look down at the floor, my fingers shake, and goosebumps pebble my flesh when I grab the hem of his shirt and pull it off. It drops to the floor just like my stomach.
I’ve never been naked in front of a man. Never shown any of my intimate parts to one, and now I have no option. If I force his hand, I don’t doubt he’ll hurt me.
“I’ve never been naked in front of a man before.” My cheeks burn at the admission.
“There’s a first time for everything. You should get used to being naked in my presence because next month, we’ll be married, and I’ll be taking that cherry between your legs.”
It’s hard not to flinch at the words he says, but somehow, I manage.
Looking down my body, I realize that the scratches on my legs look like they have been cleaned. When did that happen?
Julian clears his throat, and his impatient eyes are on me. I know it even though I’m not looking at him. I can feel them piercing into my flesh, branding me, watching my shaky movements. Pressing my lips together, I dip my fingers into the waistband of my panties and push them down my legs. I feel like I’m signing my own death certificate with the motion. Naked, he could easily take from me. He could steal my virtue, not that I think clothes would stop him, but they’re another barrier, a security blanket.
Crossing an arm over my chest, I cover my boobs and use my other hand to cover the space between my thighs while still refusing to look at him. I don’t want to see the satisfied glint in his eyes. I don’t want him to think he’s won because the battle has merely begun.
Julian’s eyes darken further; emotions I don’t understand swirling in their depths.
“Drop your arms,” he says gruffly.
Obeying, I drop my arms down to my sides. Shaking with fear, I flinch as he walks closer, nearly touching me as he reaches into the shower behind me and turns it on. I relax but only a little as he reappears at my side, plucking a strand of hair off my shoulder, wrapping it around one finger. Inspecting it like it’s a rare jewel.
Leaning to my ear, his hot breath tickling the lobe, he whispers, “Such a beautiful bride you will be. I cannot wait to sink my cock deep inside your virgin pussy and watch as you bleed around me. I’ll be your first and your last.”
My most basic instincts kick in, and I feel the need to run, hide, but there is nowhere I can go. Nowhere to escape. Instead, all I manage to do is whimper.
“Get in the shower and clean yourself,” he orders a moment later, his voice coming out different. Scurrying away from him, I step into the shower, shutting the glass door behind me. I wish it wasn’t glass, so I could have a little privacy.
Through the fog-filled glass door, I can still feel his eyes on me, feel him watching me through the glass as I clean myself. I should be thankful, at least he isn’t right on top of me, tormenting me with his body, at lea
st he hasn’t hurt me. Yet. That single word defines everything. If I do as he says, submit, and become a doormat to his needs, he won’t hurt me. If I fight, he’ll become the devil that I definitely know he is. Though I’ve always stayed out of my father’s business, I know better than to assume Julian is a weak-minded man. He got my father to sell me to him. His men listen to him. He’s powerful, cruel, and he’ll use his strength to keep me in line. All these thoughts and emotions are giving me a headache.
Closing my eyes, I hold my face beneath the spray of water, trying my best to ignore him and pretend I’m alone. I don’t know why but I’m shocked when I reach for the soap and discover he has not only soap for himself but also me.
He had everything planned and ready.
I wonder how long he’s been planning this with my father, planning how I will spend the rest of my life. I can never forget what he’s done and how I got here. As soon as I let my guard down, he’ll hurt me.
Taking my time, I wash my entire body from head to toe, surprised that he’s not telling me to hurry up. When I’m done, I turn off the water and spin around, coming to face him again.
This time, I don’t look away. I stare at him with the same grim look he’s giving me, watching as he leans against the counter, his arms crossed over his bare chest while he watches me like a hawk, his gaze narrowed.
As I step out of the shower, he takes a step toward me. The courage I had moments before melts away. Is he going to hurt me now? The fear of the unknown makes my belly hurt, and my body coil with tension. Reaching for a towel, he unfolds it and holds it out to me.
Gritting my teeth painfully, I step into the towel, unsure of what kind of game he’s playing. Steeling my spine, I stand there with my arms hanging down at my sides as he dries me off. Shivering, he touches every part of me without actually touching anything, always keeping the towel as a barrier. His touch isn’t sexual or leering. It’s gentle, almost nurturing, and that confuses me. When my body is dry, he drops the wet towel and grabs another fresh one.
