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“Let me remind you of your situation,” he says with a calm that infuriates me, because I’m nothing of the sort in his presence.
“You fucked up walking into that alley,” he continues. “You saw things you weren’t supposed to, and now that makes you a liability, not only to me, but to the other men that were there.”
My throat bobs, understanding that “liabilities” aren’t usually a good thing to men like him.
“But I did pay for your company, and I do hate to waste my money,” he adds, not making me feel better in the slightest.
“You’re going to keep me prisoner all because you had the winning bid in that auction?” I manage to voice my question, the words laden with disbelief. The very notion of continuing to be confined in this claustrophobic cell sends another wave of unease crashing over me.
His head tilts forward, the glint in his stare intensifying, and a chill runs down my spine. “That’s up to you,” he replies, his voice dripping with calculated detachment. “I’ll give you the option of earning your freedom. Given you stopped screaming, tonight you’ve earned a mattress.”
A flicker of hope sparks within me, albeit fragile. A bed, a semblance of comfort amidst the captivity. It’s a small reprieve, a gesture that hints at the possibility of escape. But his words also carry an unspoken threat, a reminder that he holds the power to decide my fate. My gaze follows his movements as he steps back, effortlessly pulling a single bed from the hallway and tossing it into the room.
The mattress lands with a dull thud, a stark contrast to the heavy weight pressing against my chest. It’s a tangible side effect to my current situation, an imprisonment that extends beyond physical confines. “Let’s see how you do tomorrow before we talk about what comes next,” he adds, his voice laced with a sense of foreboding.
“You can’t do this,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, even to my own ears. Desperation is beginning to take over, mingling with the fear that clenches at my heart and taking away all the bravado I previously summoned.
With three steady strides, he closes the distance between us, his hand shooting out to grab at my throat once again. The touch is domineering, with an almost soothing firmness, considering he isn’t actually choking me. It’s a calculated act, assumingly meant to instill fear without causing harm. The thought forces me to feel the weight of his control, his power over me, and it only adds to the confusion swirling within.
“Oh, I can and I will, Little Raven,” he retorts, his voice dripping with a dangerous mix of amusement and something far more sinister. The cell seems to shrink, the walls closing in around me, as if to suffocate any last shred of hope I’ve been clinging to. The bitter tang of tension lingers in the air, stealing every breath I take.
“Why?” My voice trembles with a mix of curiosity and desperation. “Why not just kill me and be done with it?”
I hold my breath, waiting for his response, dreading the truth that may lie within his words. Life may have seemed bleak this past week, ever since the gut-wrenching loss of my mother, but I am far from ready to embrace death or a lifetime of torment.
His grip on my throat loosens slightly, his fingers grazing my skin as he releases me. His stare intensifies, a storm brewing in his eyes, and I brace myself for his answer. “Because, Little Raven,” he begins, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, “your suffering brings me more satisfaction than mere death ever could.”
The revelation hangs in the air, a chilling truth that pierces through my defenses. My heart pounds in my chest, the weight of my predicament settling over me like a leaden veil. As much as I wish for my freedom, I now face a harsh reality: death just might be my only escape.
5
LUCA
Even after a few hours of restless sleep, my mind remains tangled with conflicting thoughts about Olivia. She caught me off guard last night, in more ways than one. More than once and more than I was comfortable with.
As the leader of Monroe Investments, I have always prided myself on staying ten steps ahead of those around me. But Olivia has managed to infiltrate my thoughts, creating a perplexing mixture of attraction and frustration within me. The mere notion of a woman having this effect on me makes her not only a liability but also a significant risk.
The innocence she had initially portrayed has been contradicted by her disobedient nature, and the temptation to rid myself of this problem is strong. Yet, I find myself hesitating, grappling with emotions that I’m unaccustomed to.
Still, I know that I can’t afford to let her burrow further under my skin.
Sitting in my office at home, my contemplation continues until Jaxon knocks at my door.
“Come in,” I say, pushing aside the papers I wasn’t really reading.
Jaxon steps into the room, his golden eyes appraising me respectfully as he closes the door behind him. “The news is reporting on Senator McAdams.”
I lean forward, my curiosity piqued. “And?”
“They’re saying it’s a robbery gone wrong,” he explains before sitting down across from me. “The FBI is taking over the investigation, but they have no suspects.”
A flicker of annoyance rises within me but doesn’t last long. “If Damon did his job, then we shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
Damon, one of my most trusted associates, possesses the skills to ensure that no trace of our involvement is left behind in any situation. He has always been meticulous in covering our tracks, diverting attention away from our operations.
“What are we going to do about the securities bill McAdams was pushing through?” Jaxon asks, reminding me that I have somewhere to be soon.
A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “We’ll resort to blackmail if necessary. None of those politicians are clean. We’ll still get what we need.”
