by J. L. Beck
My body moves on its own, pushing up from the floor. I’m not sure if I’m just scared or if it’s because I’m already conditioned to listen. Either way, I hate it, hate every aspect of this situation. A smile tugs on his lips at my obedience. His gaze rakes over my body, taking in my attire. “I see you found the clothes I got for you.”
He points at what I’m wearing, and I nod, hating the way I’m relieved that he did buy them for me. I shouldn’t care if they belong to some other woman, but I do.
“Did you eat your food the maid brought up?” He looks around the room, searching for the tray. I didn’t finish the whole plate, but I ate what I could with my stomach being in knots. Honestly, I’m surprised I was able to keep anything down at all.
He inspects the half-eaten food and nods, seemingly pleased with the amount I ate. He turns back to face me before taking a step toward me. Instinctively, I try to take a step back, but my back is already pressed against the window.
Closing the distance between us in two large strides, he stands so close, I have to tilt my neck back to look him in the face.
“Give me your hand,” he gruffly demands, and again, I obey without thinking. I offer him my hand, and he takes it, engulfing mine with his much larger one.
Without another word, he turns and tugs me along behind him.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he heads for the door, excitement blooming in my chest at the thought that I’ll finally get to leave the bedroom.
“Dinner.”
He opens the door and pulls me out into the hall. His legs are much longer than mine, and I have a hard time keeping up with his large strides as he drags me through the hallways and down the stairs.
Why is he in such a hurry?
By the time we get to the dining room, I realize that we are completely alone in this large house, or at least I don’t see or hear anyone else. Peering at the huge mahogany table that seats twelve, I find that it is already set…for two. There are covered bowls and trays in the center of the table, making me wonder if someone prepared this and left or if Julian made this for us.
He pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit down. When I take the seat, he pushes the chair in and starts to uncover all the food. Steam billows from each dish and an array of savory flavors fill the air.
Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Did you cook this?”
Julian looks like he wants to laugh. “Do I look like a chef?”
“No… I just… never mind,” I mumble, my cheeks heating. I feel embarrassed, and all for asking a simple question.
My soon to be husband takes the serving spoon and starts filling my plate with a little bit of everything before filling his own.
“Thank you,” I say, more out of reflex than anything else. I shouldn’t be thanking him for anything. I should be taking my steak knife and stabbing him in the throat.
Grabbing the fork, I pierce a small potato, imagining it’s one of Julian’s eyeballs. I don’t really feel like eating, but I know refusing is futile. He would somehow make me do it regardless. Plus, not eating will ultimately work against me. I need my strength to escape, so if eating gets me there, then I’ll eat.
“Would you care for some wine?” he asks casually.
“No, thanks.” There is no way I’m drinking a drop of alcohol. I’m already at a major disadvantage. I’m not going to add anything to make me even weaker.
“Suit yourself. I got you something,” he announces, grabbing something from his slack pocket. “Put this on, and don’t take it off, ever.” The tone of his voice carries a finality to it. I look up from my plate, and at the small object he is holding between two large fingers. It’s tiny compared to his huge palm—a silver band with a shiny diamond cradled in the center.
“How romantic,” I say under my breath while reaching for the engagement ring.
“It’s either this around your finger or a collar around your neck? I figured you’d prefer this.” He shrugs, and I want to throw the stupid ring in his face.
Instead, I nod in agreement and slide the ring onto my ring finger. Of course, it fits perfectly. How does he do this? Did he have someone measure me from head to toe while I was sleeping? I wouldn’t be surprised, to be honest.
Trying not to look at the ring, I continue eating, pretending like I don’t find the ring beautiful. The last thing I want is for him to assume I like something he got me.
For a few minutes, neither one of us says anything. I want to ignore him just as much as the sparkling diamond decoration on my ring finger, but I’m not able to do either. His presence is impossible to ignore, and the diamond glitters with every tiny movement. It’s annoying, all of it.
“Why did you get me this ring? It’s not like anyone will see it.”
“I will see it,” he snaps. Then he continues in a slightly softer tone. “Besides, you won’t be locked in the bedroom forever. Just until I can be sure you won’t disobey me. How long that will take is purely up to you.”
“Of course…”
We eat the rest of the meal in silence. When I can’t take another bite, I place the fork next to my plate and lean back in my chair. My stomach is full, and I don’t think I could take another bite if I tried.
“Dessert?”
“No, I’m full.” The words have barely left my lips before Julian gets up from his chair. Grabbing me by my upper arm, he pulls me to my feet and starts guiding me out of the dining room.
Immediately, I’m alarmed. Why is he so eager to get me back to the bedroom? I thought he wanted to wait until after we were married. Maybe he changed his mind?
“Why are you shaking?” His words take me by surprise as we reach the stairs.
“I didn’t realize I was. Why are you in such a hurry to get me to bed? I thought...”
Julian snickers. “You thought I was an honorable man who was going to wait to have sex with you until after we were married?”
“Yes…” I can only hope…
“We’ll see.”
We’ll see? What is that supposed to mean?
By the time we reach the bedroom, I’m shaking even more. I’m completely alone with a man who is easily twice my size. There’s no one here who could help me even if they heard me scream. I’m completely helpless, at the mercy of this ruthless man who bought me for ten million dollars.
He locks the door behind us and lets go of my arm. Scurrying backward, I feel like I’m suffocating in his presence.
“Get ready for bed. I’m taking a shower.”
“A sh-shower?” I stutter, still shaking like a leaf and a little shocked. I was so sure he was going to rape me, but he’s…
“Yes, a shower. Care to join?” The mocking tone he gives me has me snapping out of the fearful fog around my head.
“No,” I blurt out, making him grin.
“That’s what I thought. Find some pajamas and get in the bed,” he orders before turning around and walking into the bathroom. As he disappears into the bathroom, I all but run into the closet. My heart is racing, and my hands shake as I grab a nightshirt and pair of sleep shorts.
Quickly, I peel my clothes off and put my clean pj’s on, waiting for him to appear in the closet. He’s a cruel monster, and I must always remain alert when he is in the room.
Tiptoeing out of the closet, I walk back to the king-size bed, my eyes catching on the door to the bathroom, which is cracked open. Steam billows into the bedroom, and temptation builds inside of me.
He’s seen you naked. Why not see him naked?
Walking over to the door, I peer through the crack and cover my mouth with a hand to stifle the gasp that tries to escape. Water cascades over his tanned, sculpted body, the muscles of his back ripple, but it’s not his nakedness that has me gasping.
It’s the hand wrapped around the steel rod between his legs, the furious, angry pumping that he’s doing with his hand. My cheeks burn, and my throat tightens as I watch him stroke himself. I’ve never seen a man touch himself, and I become
mesmerized. Each stroke is anger-filled, and I can’t look away, my eyes roam over his thick thighs that are like tree trunks, his biceps bulge, and with his eyes closed, he looks almost angelic. Licking my lips, I feel a heat creep into my core.
This is wrong. He’s your captor.
As if he can feel me watching him, his eyes flutter open, and his dark blue orbs find mine instantly. The air in my lungs rushes out, and I stumble backward from the intensity in them. Shame fills me, and my face burns, watching as his lips tip up at the sides while he doesn’t even miss a beat and continues stroking himself.
Rushing from the door, I almost trip over my feet in my escape to get away. Jumping onto the bed, I climb under the covers and press a hand to my chest, trying to get my heart to stop beating out of my chest.
After a while, my breathing returns to normal at about that same time that the water in the shower turns off. Seconds turn into minutes, and I hold my breath while waiting.
Heavy footfalls approach the bed, and then the room falls into darkness. My body is strung tight with anxiety. The blankets are pulled back, and the weight of his body presses into the mattress. I feel like prey hiding in the woods, hoping I won’t be discovered.
I don’t even get a chance to prepare for his touch, he slings an arm around my waist and tugs my back to his chest, engulfing me in his warmth. Heat zings through me when our skin touches.
“In case you were wondering, I was thinking about you the entire time. Thinking about your tight pussy, the way you’ll pulse around me and beg me for more on our wedding night. I can’t wait to deflower you.” His mouth is at my ear, and I involuntarily shiver at his confession.
He lets out a small chuckle and then settles behind me. I don’t say anything and try not to think about his words, but the truth is, I can’t get the image out of my mind, and that makes me hate him all the more. He’s making me crave something, making me need him, and I’ll do anything to prove that I don’t need or want him.
8
Julian
Working from home is a pain in the ass when you have a beautiful woman right down the hall that you could be fucking. It’s also impossible to focus when you keep checking your phone so you can spy on her and see what she’s doing. Maybe I should’ve gone with Lucca today to check shipments, at least then I wouldn’t be tempted by the raven-haired beauty.
Last night, she watched me as I beat off to the image of her perfect pussy. Her gaze was full of shock and curiosity. It took me forever to fall asleep, wondering what she would do if I touched her. I never expected her to spy on me, or watch me through the door, but she shocked the hell out of me. Maybe it was a game. Maybe she was trying to test me.
Leaning back in my chair, I think back to this morning and how I tortured myself further. Forcing myself to stand outside the shower and watch as she washed her gorgeous body. She looked like a goddamn angel, and I hate it. Every time I look at her, I see a young woman I want to break and destroy. This is revenge, plain and simple. Any sliver of kindness died the day my mother did.
I see her father standing over my dead mother’s body, and I feel shame for not reacting sooner. I feel like a fucking failure for not protecting my mother, and I will never allow myself to feel that way again. Elena is a means to an end, and breaking her heart is inevitable. She will become a casualty of war, and there is nothing I can do about it.
The minutes tick by slowly, and I go over the books one more time, double-checking to make sure that I’ve received dues from every location in my territory. I’ll need to send Markus out to the new businesses so he can let them know how this works. They’ll choose either to stay and pay dues or leave.
Grabbing my cell, I call Markus. The phone rings twice.
“Yes, boss.”
“There are three businesses that are new on the east side of town. I will send you the names of each of them. I want you to go in and let them know the rules, tell them what they need to do, and show them what happens if they don’t.”
“Of course.” I can almost hear the joy in his voice. Markus doesn’t show emotion often, but I imagine he smiles while delivering my messages.
“Let me know if there are any problems,” I tell him and hang up.
Logging back into the security app, I find Elena sitting on the edge of the bed cross-legged. She’s just sitting there, doing nothing, looking completely unaffected by the fact that she is all alone.
It angers and interests me all at once.
She doesn’t seem to be bothered by the silence of the room, and I wonder why that is? She should be going insane, beating on the door, begging for me to let her out.
I knew her father kept her on lockdown in his house, but maybe it was more than that. Had her father locked her up in her bedroom, kept her a prisoner like she is here? Clearly, she’s conditioned, which is putting a real damper on my plan.
Checking the time, I realize it’s almost lunch. Pushing up from my chair, I walk to the kitchen where Martha–one of the older maids–is just putting everything on a tray.
“I’ll take it to her today,” I tell her. Her mouth opens to say something, but she quickly changes her mind, closes her mouth, and simply nods instead.
Carrying the tray of food, I walk through the house and up to the bedrooms. I catch myself being eager to get to her, and that thought has me slowing down. I can’t have her get to me like that. No one controls me.
I unlock the door while balancing the food with my free hand. When I step inside, Elena jumps up from the bed. Her eyes go wide as she takes me in; clearly, she didn’t expect me to deliver her lunch.
She doesn’t say anything as I carry the tray to her, placing it on the bed beside her.
“Please don’t tell me you were expecting someone else?” I say.
“I just thought the maid brought me my lunch. I didn’t know you were here.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Just surprised.” She shrugs. Without looking up at me, she takes the sandwich from the plate and starts nibbling on it. As I stand there towering over her, I’m burdened with the need to understand her.
“You seem accustomed to being alone.”
“Because I am,” she simply states. “I would appreciate being able to go out for walks and explore the grounds when I want to.”
“Like I said–”
“Yes, I know.” She glances up at me, her thick lashes fan against her cheeks. “Listen, obey, behave, then freedom. In that order.”
I’m not sure if I’m mad or impressed that she dared to interrupt me. I don’t even remember the last time someone did that without dying immediately after.
“Did your father not teach you any manners?”
Her cheeks turn crimson. “I’m sorry.”
Her apology is genuine, and I’m not sure what to make of it. Hell, I don’t know what to make of any of this. She’s nothing like I expected her to be, and I need to get out of this room and away from her. She draws me in, and I won’t be made a fool of, least of all by her.
“I’ll be back to get you for dinner.”
Her lips part, and it looks like she’s going to say something, but her gaze darts away, and words never come out. I wonder if she is going to ask me to stay. To talk. Is my plan working so quickly? Is she already starved for my attention?
Not giving her time to figure it out, I leave the room without another word. I close and lock the door behind me before I stare at the door for a second longer than I should. My plan is unfolding nicely, even though not quite as I had planned, she is starting to depend on me, nevertheless. So why am I not happy about it?
My afternoon workload goes just as painfully slow as the morning. Lucca and I discuss a couple shipments of drugs that have gone missing. It’s going to cost us big and is a mistake that one of my men will pay for. I have this feeling that someone is trying to stiff me. Concentrating is nearly impossible, knowing Elena is right within reaching distance. Having her here is starting to drive me insane, and I
wonder if I can wait until next week to fuck her.
I stop working early and have Martha set the table on the terrace. Elena has been behaving very well, I might as well give her a little reward. I pour myself a glass of whiskey and stare out the huge window that overlooks the lawn. The whiskey calms me, making me warm all over and is just what I need before going to see my bride. Finishing the glass, I leave the office and walk down the hall.
Reaching the bedroom door, I smile smugly while already knowing she listened to me and is waiting like a dog ready to see its owner at the end of the day.
When I unlock and open the door, I find her exactly where I knew she would be—my obedient, soon to be wife. Her green eyes meet mine earnestly, and she stands up and walks over to me. Just like last night, I take her hand in mine, hating the way it fucking feels, and drag her through the house.
I don’t want her to get familiar with her surroundings, and I don’t want her to see any of the guards or maids unless necessary. Right now, she is my captive, not a guest, and not yet a member of the Moretti family. She will see what I want her to see when I want her to see it.
Her short legs can barely keep up with my steps, and I briefly entertain the idea of picking her up. Mostly because I want to scare her, and partially because I want to touch her. Every time I’m in her presence, I have to stop myself from taking from her, from dipping my fingers into her panties and touching what’s mine.
Taking her virginity now or next month doesn’t matter much to me, but I’m sticking to my plan. It will help, making her trust me.
That’s not to say I won’t taste or touch her. I didn’t pay ten million dollars, so I could stare at her, and I’m as far from a saint as could possibly be. She’s lucky, very lucky, someone far less innocent would’ve been on her back the first night.
“Where are we going?” Elena asks when we bypass the dining room and enter the French doors off the kitchen.
There’s an intake of breath, and I pause just outside the door, looking down and admiring Elena’s beauty in the setting sun. I know for a fact that I will thoroughly enjoy fucking her and planting my seed inside her. That’s the second-best part of my plan; the first is seeing her father’s face when he realizes his daughter actually wants me, maybe even loves me.
