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Adriano’s guard sets to work releasing her chains, and her gaze remains fixed on mine even after she’s completely undetained. A part of me expects her to bolt and run, but she does nothing.
“Take off your shirt,” I order Ricardo, still not backing down from the stare-off I’m having with the girl.
“Take off my… what?” he questions.
“I said, take off your fucking shirt.”
Ricardo knows I hate it when I have to repeat myself.
He doesn’t argue or question me a second time. And it’s only a few short seconds before I feel his shirt fall into my waiting palm.
I shove it into the girl's chest, realizing my own strength when she stumbles backward. “Unless you want me to fuck you all the way back to Colorado, I suggest you put that on,” I keep my tone stern, and I’m a little disappointed when she nods her head so agreeably. I thought Adriano said she was troublesome.
“Take her to my car.” I bark my command to Ricardo, choosing to ignore the shocked look on his face.
Ricardo will have been expecting the girl to travel to Peyton along with Nico and my other purchases. But my brother rarely shows generosity, and this gift of his shall be coming home with me. I take another long look at her and wonder if I actually want her to lose that spark in her eye that screams defiance.
Maybe I should let her keep it… for a while.
Eventually, I turn my back and walk away from her. Loosening my tie and undoing my top button on the way up the stairs, I finally allow myself to fucking breathe. I wasn’t about to allow the girl to see the effect she had on me down there. Masters never show their toys’ weakness.
Every muscle in my body aches as I pull on the shirt. My fingers fumble to do up the buttons while I try to figure out if what just happened is going to be good or bad for me.
The back of my mouth feels raw from where he assaulted me with his fingers, and I can feel him there every time I swallow. The man he left down here with me looks pissed as hell and also a little pathetic, standing shirtless with his arms crossed over his sturdy chest.
And despite the fear of the unknown, I can’t help feeling glad that I’m leaving this place. I believe that the man's threats were real. I felt his words chill my bones when he spoke them. But nothing could be worse than the horrors down here. At least now I have a shirt. It’s more than anything else I’ve had this past week.
Ricardo suddenly lunges at me, grabbing the back of my neck in his huge bear-like hand and forcing me out of my cell. My legs are weak and wobbly from standing for so long, and as he rushes me up the narrow staircase, I fear they might give in on me completely.
The light shocks my eyes when we reach the open door at the top of the stairs, and remembering that my arms are no longer bound, I use my hand to shield them.
Up here isn’t what I expected. I must have been drugged or knocked out when I arrived because I can’t remember these marble floors or the artwork on the walls. The place really is luxurious.
“Don’t try to run.” Ricardo points something hard and metal into my shoulder as he moves me toward the front door of the property, and I can’t help but snigger a laugh at him. I have no intention of running. My legs can barely walk, let alone outsprint a man twice my size.
Outside, the air is warm, and as sunlight touches my face, I feel a sudden rush of hope. I don’t know how I’m going to do it just yet, but I will bring back help for the innocents trapped in this place.
“Get in the car.” Ricardo opens the back door of a long, black street car that's parked in front of us, and I do as he asks, settling onto the leather seat. I’m surprised when he doesn’t join me, instead he slams the door closed and leaves me alone. There’s a partition between me and the driver, so I’m isolated enough to check my surroundings and try to come up with a plan.
The inside of the car smells brand new. The gray leather interior squeaks under my sweaty thighs. There’s even a small bar and a mini-fridge which my fingers twitch to rip open and seek out water from. I remain seated, though. I can’t take risks until I know what I’m up against. What I can guarantee is that this is going to be a much more comfortable ride than the one that brought me here.
Everything is already so different from the way I was treated by the others. No chains, I have clothes to cover my body, and being left unattended… is that trust or a test?
The windows are tinted, so I doubt Ricardo can see me. But I can see him, standing tall with his back to my door and facing the property. I move slowly, reaching across the seat to test if the door on the other side is locked.
Of course, it is.
The door opening behind me almost has me leaping out of my skin, and realizing that I’m stretched across the seat with my ass in the air and no panties beneath Ricardo’s shirt, I quickly scramble into a less compromising position.
“Looking for something?” My new owner’s voice ricochets through me like a strike of lightning. His Italian accent isn’t too heavy, but it’s present, along with the threat in his tone.
When I turn to face him, he’s staring back at me blankly, as if he’s expecting an answer. But I don’t give him one, just straighten myself in the seat and avoid eye contact.
“Ricardo, you can ride up front,” he orders his man before bending his tall body and sliding onto the seat beside me. The door shuts, trapping us alone, and suddenly the air turns thick.
He waits until the car is moving before reaching forward, opening the mini-fridge, and taking out a bottle of water.
“Drink,” he commands, tossing it on my lap without bothering to look at me. And I notice this because I can’t seem to take my eyes off him as he glances out the window thoughtfully, his elbow resting on the window's ledge and his finger sliding sideways under his thick bottom lip.
