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A shudder wracked my frame at the nightmarish concept of becoming his tamed pet.
Physically, I couldn’t resist him. Even if my feet weren’t crippled, he would eventually overpower me in any altercation, and I didn’t have the option to evade him if I got in a solid blow. As long as I was trapped in his penthouse, he would always manage to capture me, no matter how much damage I inflicted.
That left me with the one weapon that had saved me from each horror of my past: my mind.
I could play his games. All this time, he’d been the one seducing me into compliance, using my helpless desire for him against me.
Well, karma was a bitch, and so was I.
Throwing myself at him was out of the question; he would see right through my strategy if I made it too easy for him. I would make him work for it, but I would remain secure in the secret knowledge that every second of my submission was a ruse, a calculated tactic that would eventually bring about his demise. He couldn’t slowly chip away at my willpower and steal pieces of my soul if each show of surrender was on my terms.
He wanted me to be his tamed, devoted pet, so he could parade me around like a trophy. He intended to use me to quash any lingering resistance amongst my associates. They didn’t know I’d been the one to betray my brother, their leader. In their minds, I was still the figurehead of the Ronaldo Cartel, the last survivor bearing my father’s powerful name.
Stefano would be plotting to bend me to his will so that he could take me out in public and show me off, leashed and utterly humiliated. But he would have to act soon. With every day that passed, my more ambitious associates would be consolidating power, recruiting my brother’s weaker allies to their cause. The chaos of a fractured cartel always created a power vacuum that escalated into vicious bloodshed before the new power structure was brutally established.
That meant Stefano would be feeling pressure from his own associates to demonstrate his dominion over me. He had the clock working against him, and I would use that to my advantage.
And if his recent actions could be taken at face value, he had one other weakness: my distress.
In his unhinged fantasy about owning me, he desired my genuine devotion. He wanted to keep me caged for his own amusement, and he didn’t want me to spoil his fun with any unpleasantness. Apparently, the reality of my entrenched hatred soured some of his enjoyment.
A delicate balance of resistance, surrender, and false vulnerability would grant me control over my insane jailor. Once he arrogantly believed that he had successfully mastered me, he would make the grave error of taking me out of my cage. In time, I would subvert his organization and rally my own associates to destroy the bastard who had dared to humble our cartel.
Set on my course of action, I took a bracing breath and maneuvered my body out of the tub. The process was awkward, considering my bandages, but I managed to get to my feet and limp into the closet. Grabbing a towel along my way, I dried off and surveyed the skimpy outfits Stefano had purchased for me.
My armor needed to be chosen carefully. At the moment, nothing too daring would do. I needed to appear shaken, vulnerable. That meant selecting the demurest option available, as though I wanted to hide as much of my body as possible from Stefano’s lustful gaze.
Balancing an attempt at modesty with a hint at my sensuality wouldn’t be a challenge. He hadn’t provided me with a single unflattering option. My selection ranged from lacy lingerie to indecently lowcut, form-fitting dresses.
My lips twisted in a grim smirk when the perfect combination presented itself to me.
Within minutes, I’d clothed myself in a matching, sheer black lace bra and panty set and covered it with one of Stefano’s tailored shirts. I would give the illusion of attempting to cover the most sensual parts of my anatomy and mask my curves. But the dark lingerie was clearly visible against the white fabric of his shirt, granting him a tantalizing, suggestive glimpse at the slutty garments. I would act standoffish at first, pretending to keep him at a distance while he salivated over the prospect of getting me undressed.
I might allow him to assert physical dominance, but our erotic interactions this evening would be by my own design. He would only take as much as I allowed.
I made one final assessment of my appearance in the bathroom mirror before I faced my enemy. After savoring my triumphant smile for a few seconds, I carefully tucked it away, covering it with a mask of uncertainty and hurt.
