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Suddenly, an idea strikes and Taylor fumbles for her phone, staring at the screen. But then a frown pulls down her pretty features.
“Wait, why don’t I have service?”
I sigh.
“Like I said, honey, this townhouse is built like a fortress. There’s security everywhere, both invisible and visible. But even more, the security’s not just to keep intruders out. It’s also to keep young, impressionable women in, so I’ve installed signal blockers. There’s no way to connect to the network, and the premises have been securely locked down. This is your new home, Taylor, at least for the time being as I get what I paid for.”
She stares at me.
“And what did you pay for?” she asks in a low, trembling voice.
I smirk.
“You’ll see, sweetheart.” But then I glance at the grandfather clock by the entryway. “It’s late now, so I’ll let you get some sleep. But we’ll discuss this tomorrow at dinner, okay? Seven o’clock sharp. I’ll see you then, baby girl. Your suite’s upstairs, first door on the right. Good night.”
With that, I stalk off. I can feel Taylor’s eyes on my broad back as she watches me go. But I’m not alarmed because the beautiful woman is now my property, and it’s only a matter of time before she capitulates.
8
Taylor
After a restless night, I got up this morning and tried to make sense of things. Am I really a prisoner in Roman Genovese’s home? It seems far-fetched and utterly ludicrous, but as I crept around the mansion, I found that there was no way to escape. The doors were locked and I spotted several discreetly-placed cameras that seemed to track my every movement.
So after an entire day of investigation, now I sit in my bedroom, flummoxed. What the hell? This is the twenty-second century, and they can’t keep women prisoners anymore! Yet, my phone still has no service and I wonder if my friends have called the cops yet. Probably not. They likely think I’m in rural Missouri right now with no cell service. Ugh. I really am stuck here.
Beside me on the bed is a tiny black cocktail dress left here by Roman’s staff. Clearly, he wants me to wear this for dinner and I trail my fingers along the lacy bodice. It’s obviously very expensive, but it’s going to be tight on my curves too. Then again, that’s probably the point.
Sighing, I slip into the sexy dress and check myself out in the mirror. The neckline is a deep vee, highlighting the dark shadow between my enormous breasts. The fabric clings to my narrow waist before hugging my wide hips and I turn to the left and right to make sure there’s no unnecessary bunching. Then, a pair of black stilettos completes the look and I fluff out my brown curls with a sigh. I might as well look nice because if I’m going to be held prisoner, then I need to bring out the big guns. My looks are a part of that, and I definitely learned a thing or two about using them to my advantage while working at Club Z.
Finally, I make my way downstairs and through a series of lounges before approaching a massive dining room. There’s a huge, formal table gleaming beneath the low lights, and about twenty chairs pushed in on all sides. At one end, two place settings await, and I see that the mafia don is already waiting for me. He sits at the head of the table, and stands when I approach.
“Good evening, Taylor,” Roman growls, those blue eyes sensuous as they skim over my curves. “I’m glad you made it.”
I blush while sitting because even though he’s my captor, he’s ungodly gorgeous. Black hair is swept off of a high brow and those patrician features are stern and aquiline. His blue eyes gleam as they take me in, trailing appreciatively over my curves, and I go hot in my sweetest spot.
Stop, the voice in my head admonishes.Roman Genovese is your captor, so don’t start flirting with him. The voice is right, and as a result, I decide to dive straight into the deep end.
“You won’t get away with keeping me locked up, Mr. Genovese.”
One black eyebrow raises as he throws me an amused glance.
“Are you sure about that? Like I mentioned yesterday, trafficking in women is what I do for a living. I’ve been in this business a long time, sweetheart, so there are a lot of ways to keep a woman hidden.”
I start in my chair, but then pout.
“Yes, but I’m an American citizen, not some piece of property to be kidnapped. This is illegal, clearly!”
He shrugs.
“You don’t seem to be complaining so far.”
I stare at him.
“Well, I’ll tell your staff. They’ll inform the police and then you’re going to jail.”
Roman merely shrugs, totally at ease in his dark suit.
“I don’t think so. My staff is very loyal to me, and they know not to trust my visitors. You’re not the first time I’ve had a pretty young thing staying with me long-term.”
