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“What is it?”
“I just got a call from Alessandro.”
Alessandro is a capo with the Valentini Mafia. He’s Aurora's next-to-eldest brother.
“Oh yeah. What did he want?” I ask as I switch lanes and pick up speed.
“Apparently, he has a younger sister who has gone missing. His father asked him to reach out to us for help finding her. He wants all alliance hands on deck. He doesn’t want to get the police involved. Some motherfucker is about to have the wrath of the Valentini on his ass.”
“I’m thatmotherfucker, brother. I’ll see you in twenty.”
I end the call before he can say another word. Let the fucking games begin!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Aurora
Ifall back onto my heels and let the water stream down over my shoulders and hair like a waterfall. I touch my lips, feeling the slight ache in my jaw. I can feel my heart beating erratically inside my chest, overwhelmed with adrenaline and something else—triumph! That was the furthest thing from my proper upbringing and was so unladylike. He treated me like his dirty whore, similar to his behavior with Fiona a short time earlier. I’m equal parts ashamed and exhilarated, though I still hate him. Even though given no choice but to submit, I made him join me in submission. If his anger afterward were any indication, I’d say he didn’t plan for things to go that far between us, which makes no sense. He initiated all this, yet he couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I didn’t want this, so why did I give in and participate? Again, what does that say about me? Yes, he’s insanely attractive, visually and physically, but it doesn’t excuse the fact he’s holding me here against my will or that he has some agenda that involves using me to get to my family.
I don’t want to dissect my twisted desires or why they exist at all. Instead, I need to understand why forcing me to pleasure him resulted in such hostility and mood change. Maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong. My way out will not be through his house staff. It will be through him. Something is not adding up, and I need it to. He wants me to cooperate and read his stupid rules, then so be it. I’m intelligent—I’ve had the best private home education money could buy. Where I lack experience, I make up for in knowledge.And intuition.It’s time to stop playing defense and start playing offense. I have something he wants, so why haven’t I leveraged that? I’ve had the answer to getting out of this situation the entire time. I just need one thing …time. I stand and wash the remaining cum from my face and body. I grab the towel hanging from the shower glass to dry off and wrap the towel around my body.
Fiona walks in just as I step out of the shower. She places another stack of towels on the counter with some pads as she did yesterday. “We’ve put clothes in your closet,” she informs. “Please read the instructions Mr. Gallagher had us leave for you. He doesn’t want you coming to any more meals in your night garments.”
“Thanks,” I say, not sure how else to fill the awkward silence.
“What is his first name?” I ask as I get out of the shower. She’s not moving, so I’m just making conversation to take my mind off the lack of privacy.
Surprisingly, she lets out a small laugh. I can see that her eyes are rimmed with redness. This girl goes from timid to confident and bitchy at the speed of whiplash.
“If he fucked you, but he still hasn’t supplied you with his first name? Then it’s not my place to say.”
“I didn’t fuck him, Fiona. I’m a virgin. Why are you upset with me? I’m the hostage here, remember? I’m not trying to come between whatever you and he have going on.”
“Why would you possibly think we have anything going on? What you witnessed today was nothing. I’m nothing to him, and neither are you. You did something with him because Mr. Doyle and I saw him leave this room practically naked. What did you do?”
I finish drying off and place the pad between my legs, no longer caring if she watches. I’m pissed. It’s apparent that she has feelings for him and is taking things out on me.
“If you couldn’t make him come, and then he comes to me to finish, then it’s not my place to say,” I retort, serving her words back to her. I can feel that familiar exhilaration return as it courses through my veins.
Her tough exterior slips briefly before her face hardens. “You’re a fucking liar. He doesn’t come. Ever! He would never give anyone that control. Enjoy whatever fantasies you’re creating in your head about him. I’ve been his housemaid a long time before this place, so I know things. He’s going to chew you up and spit you out. You’re dispensable. I was here before you, and I’ll be here long after you’re gone.”
She spins on her heel and leaves just as angry as he did. Her emotional outburst was very telling about her true possessive feelings for him, but she also gave me a bit of insight. She said he never comes because he would never give up that control. That means he lost control with me, hence his reason for being so upset. It wasn’t the act itself; it was that he allowed himself to finish. Why the hell does that matter, and why me?
I startle when I enter the bedroom and find another much older woman standing in the center of the room with a chair and table with scattered hair products. I cover my breast as my pad swishes between my legs. I should just give up having any sort of dignity in this place. Everyone just comes and goes as they please.
“Morning, Aurora. I’m Bridget. I’m one of Mr. Gallagher’s house staff, but I’m also formally trained to do hair. I’m going to fix your haircut.”
I sidestep to get some underwear and a bra from the drawer. “That’s okay. It’s fine the way it is.”
“It’s uneven, dear. Besides, Mr. Gallagher insists. Go ahead and get dressed, and we’ll get started.”
I’m surprised once again. All of the silk undergarments have been replaced with comfy cotton. Sports bras, tanks, and gym shorts replace all the sexy lingerie that was once here. I find much of the same in the closet. Jogger sets, jeans, and T-shirts hang throughout, absent of any sign of the sophisticated pantsuits that I’m used to or any sophistication for that matter. Is this supposed to be a punishment? Because if it is, it’s the best one yet. I’ll take comfort over being forced to dress like one of his conquests. I throw on a pair of shorts and a tank for now. My hair was ruined the moment I took the knife to it, so this woman can’t do much worse.
She smiles when I sit in the chair in front of her. She wraps a towel around my neck before I feel the coldness of the water as she sprays my hair to wet it more. “I hope you like the clothes. Mr. Doyle had me add some things to the order for our errands person to shop for. He was supposed to do it before you arrived, but he got busy with other shopping we needed for the house. Figured you’d appreciate comfort over sexy, and I’m sure our errands guy appreciated not having to buy the sexy things.” She chuckles.
“Where did the other sexy undergarments come from that were in the drawer before?”
She smiles sheepishly at me. “Fiona,” she admits. “We knew you needed something your first day here, and we didn’t want to make it obvious that Benji, our errands guy, forgot. It’s our fault we gave him too much to do. Don’t worry, it was all new—never worn. She took her things back when we got your stuff in. Hope that’s okay.” She parts my hair into four before securing each section with a clamp.
