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18

Arlo

It’s been one week since I last saw Nina.

And, every day that goes by, my heart hurts a little more. I thought that keeping my distance would make it easier for me to do what would have to be done, but it didn’t. I know I don’t have real feelings for her. That’s not what this is. I just want to fuck her again. She was the best fuck of my life. Her pussy was tight and inviting. Her body had curves in all the right places. But what I loved the most was how she craved my control. She wanted it. She’s fucked up, like me. She got off on acting like my slave.

And I’m desperate to feel that again. Even though I’ve had real slaves, none of them have done anything for me like what Nina did for me that one night. I’ve often pictured her face on the other whores while fucking them. But that doesn’t do anything for me either.

I want to fuck Nina again. Now. I want to rape her for real. I want to hear her cry when I stretch her open while she secretly wants more of my cock. I want it so bad that I can’t even focus on work, the only thing I give a shit about in this world.

The last time I saw Nina was in the dining room when my father slobbered all over her gorgeous face. She looked at me like she needed me to save her. I can’t fuck her until she realizes that I won’t save her. When she finally stops looking at me like a sad puppy dog that needs rescuing, then I’ll fuck her.

But I need to see her. I need to give a fresh face to my dirty dreams. I need to see her so that, when I jack off, I have a new image of her to get off to.

She’s probably still hiding in her bedroom. Matteo fed her some stupid lie about how she was safe in her bedroom. Maybe from him, but the rest of us won’t give her much space.

I should be heading off to work. I have a new deal that I’m working on closing that could bring us billions in weapons to sell, but I can’t. Not until I see her face.

I run up the stairs to her bedroom and then hesitate. Should I knock first or just barrel inside like I own the place? I choose the latter.

I push the door open, surprised that she doesn’t have it locked.

I don’t see her when I go inside. She’s not in the bed. Not on the bench overlooking the gardens below. She’s not in the bathroom. She’s not here.

I sigh. Matteo might have finally decided it was time to break her. Good. Let him. He can do the dirty work, and then I’ll be able to do what I need to.

But I guess I’ll have to wait until later to see her.

I run back down the stairs, knowing that I only have twenty minutes before I’m supposed to be at my meeting.

“Checking in on our guest? Isn’t it a bit early for you to make your move? You usually let me do all the dirty work first,” Matteo says, sipping his coffee in the dining room.

I frown. She’s not with him.

“Where’s Gia?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I think she went shopping.”

Matteo turns his attention back to the newspaper he’s reading.

I shake my head. Who reads newspapers anymore?

But he’s old school. He’ll never stop trying to impress our father.

Father.

He’s the only one unaccounted for. And he’s been dying to get his hands on a slave for months. He usually has his own playthings to keep him occupied. But he broke his last one too quickly. She didn’t survive long. Only a month. She found his gun and killed herself before he could touch her again.

Nina is stronger than her, but I have no idea how long he’s had her as his slave. A few hours? A day? Or the whole week?

If it’s been a week, Nina will be close to the point where she’d rather die than deal with another second of my father. And I let it happen.

I run through the mansion, leaving my idiot brother sitting, clueless, in the dining room. My father’s quarters are on the complete opposite side from Nina’s. Matteo and I made sure of that. We tried to protect her from him, but we’ve failed in the first week. We never thought he would go for her so quickly. But he must have lost his patience with us after the last one.

I expect to see the usual guards at the door, but there are none. That means he doesn’t think she has enough strength to escape anymore. He thinks he has her under his complete control. If there is one thing I know about Nina, it is, no matter what he does to her, she will never be controlled.

I burst into his room, and my stomach curls when I see her. She’s tied to the bed, face up. Blood covers every inch of her face. Bruises and more blood stain her body. Her arms and legs are spread wide as ropes tie her to each bedpost, but I’m not sure the restraints are necessary. Her body is so broken that she couldn’t possibly have the strength to fight him off her or even stand on her own.

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