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“Yes, it’s a Clan tradition.”
“Exactly, one that we tend to shake up for them— quite literally.” Galina chuckles at her morbid joke and I smirk along with her.
“Perfect. What’s the plan?”
Galina takes her hand and places it over mine, giving me a squeeze. “I adore your enthusiasm, sweetheart, but everything is learned in time. I’ll have my sister text you another location and time soon. For now, my sister and I have business to attend to here in Paris and,” Galina glances down at the watch on her wrist, “We’re going to be late so we must run along. We’ll catch up soon,”
Ivana rises first and Galina follows suit, heading down the other side of the cobblestone street. I glance around and look for the surveillance van but don’t see it. My heart pounds heavily in my chest and everything feels as if it’s moving in slow motion around me. It was black, had tinted windows and a French license plate. I know it was parked just down the block, and when I sat down I could spot it from my chair but now I can’t. Fuck!
I rise, walk in the direction the sisters did and head down an alleyway. For a brief moment I pick up my pace and start to run. I run for a couple of minutes until I stop, place my hands on my knees and take in deep, heavy breaths while my chest heaves. It’s not everyday you have to run in four-and-a-half inch heels.
From the corner of my eye I spot a shard of glass flickering in the sunlight and pick it up. There’s only one way I’ll be able to get out of this mess, and that’s if I cut the damn chip out of me. I suck in a deep breath and press the sharp glass along my arm, having cut about three inches when I press my skin around the wound, feeling for anything that could be the chip.
The screeching of tires causes me to look up from where I kneel, and our eyes land on one another’s at the exact same moment. At first I think he’s going to stop me, but he halts in his steps, “Please, continue.” I contemplate digging the glass into my skin more, but something doesn’t feel right.
His words cause me to stop, wondering why he’d want me to keep cutting myself if it meant he could lose some sort of control over me. Silence passes us by until he fills the air with a chortled, sinister type of laughter. “There isn’t anything in your fucking arm, Elena. I tricked you.”
“W-what did you put inside of me?!” I yell from across the alley, angered and fearful.
He continues on with his laughter, “Saline, you naive woman.”
“Why the hell would you let me continue to cut myself?”
Luca stalks up towards me until he’s pushing my back into the stone of the building behind me, grabs my cut arm and forces my hand to touch his hardened cock. “Because I love to see you bleed,” He seethes in a mere whisper against my ear, before he tightens his grip over my cut and yanks me along with him back to the van.
Luca tosses me across the van, allowing my body to make a thud against the seats and tears fill my eyes. Why? Because I’m afraid I’ll never get out of this. Because I’m fearful the rest of my days will be lived as a prisoner to this man, a man who wants me to love him no doubt, when all he’s shown me is his cruelness. A man who demands I love him. I think about all of this while the van drives us back to the private airstrip and I’m walking up the stairs to his private plane. Luca places his hand on the small of my back as we walk forward, into the master bedroom of sorts that I was confined to on the way here and I notice the changes he’s made in the mere couple of hours we’ve been gone. It’s almost an exact replica of what I have at his house . . . an airborne dungeon so to speak.
Only, there seems to be a luxurious queen sized bed in the middle. Luca shuts the door behind us, and locks the gate . . . where I can see he’s added an inside lock as well. At least there’s an actual door on this, so none of his men will see what he does. Fuck, what the hell am I thinking? They probably already know what he does.
Luca takes a seat on the edge of the bed and orders me to let him know everything that was said while we were at the cafe, so I do, I tell him everything that was said from the smallest detail to how Galina wasn’t going to give me all the information at first. She said it would be earned over time and he nodded.
Luca rises from his seat and comes right up to me. He grazes his fingertips from the bottom of my ear, down my jawline, over my neck, to the crease between my breasts and does what he did a week ago, ripping the clothes from my body. This may sound insane, but I’d hate to know how much money he’s wasting on these clothes. I’ve had the luxury of never having to fight for anything at all during my life, including clothing. Whether I was five or twenty-five, I’ve always had the best of the best, and that’s exactly what this is— designer clothes.
My taupe dress slumps to the floor as he pulls the sleeves over my arms and I’m left standing before him in a black lace matching lingerie set . . . something Migual told me to wear underneath the dress Luca bought for me.
“Even though you’ve been a good girl today, you’re still being punished. Is that understood?”
I nod, unsure of what to really say right now. I don’t even know what’s happening.
“Get on your knees, just like you were the other night,” He commands of me, and so I drop to my knees and look up to him. A quick movement of his hand causes me to shift my gaze to his trousers and I see his cock being pulled from the confines of the fabric.
He pushes his hips closer until his cock is going past my lips, down my throat while he wraps his fingers around my hair, thrusting in a rhythm. “Fuck,Mariana.” Luca moans. I don’t realize what he’s said at first . . . but it hits me after he says her name again. “Mariana, take my cock like the good little slut you are.”
Luca tenses up while his hips move even quicker, until the point where I’m choking on his cock. Tears flood down my face and I try to pull away but he won’t let me. His hands grip my hair tighter until he’s shooting his cum down my throat. “Take all of that cum. You’d better swallow every drop, do you understand?” He pulls his member free from my mouth and kneels down a tad, pushing my breasts out from the cups of my balconette style bra. Placing his thumb and finger over my breasts he tweaks my nipples, just as I swallow his load.
His cock twitches again, still hard as a rock and I worry he’s going to take me without asking— in other words, rape me the way Mariana was raped by Jonas . . . but when I think about it . . . I didn’t tell him to stop. It only causes me to wonder two things— would he have stopped if I told him no, and— did I want him to stop?
“You’re going to dye your hair bleach blonde, and I’ll take that luscious mouth of yours whenever I want it.” Luca states before tucking himself back in his trousers. Before I can even think to say anything, he’s already out of my newly caged room and has shut both doors.
