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“Do not mistake this for kindness.” He forces my back against the bathroom door frame, and his nose slides up my cheek. I struggle to swallow against the arch of his hand, and his nostrils flair against my skin as he inhales me. “You smell like piss and Ricardo.” His free hand fists at the bottom of the shirt I’m wearing, pushing it up just enough to expose my bare pussy beneath it. “Take a shower. I shall be feeding you in one hour.” His grip on my throat loosens as his palm slips up to cup my chin and his index finger and thumb pinch my lips together painfully.
The way he looks down his nose at me with the hint of a wicked smile makes me want to spit at him again, but instead, I hold my ground and stare right back at him until he releases me and leaves.
I wait for the door to shut behind him before rushing inside the bathroom and locking the door behind me. I take a few steady breaths before heading for the shower, twisting all the buttons until the water starts to flow and I find a comfortable temperature. Stripping out of the shirt I’m wearing, I pace the floor, trying to get my head straight as the room starts to fill with steam.
I’m too weak to escape right now, but I’m already in a better position than I was back at the other house. There are no chains here. The doors don’t even have locks on from what I can see. If I can hold out and build up my strength, I should be able to escape. I’ll find Liam, and we can get help for the people back at that prison.
To do all that, though, I’ll need to build up the man’s trust.
When I step inside the shower, the water stings my skin as it pelts against my sore body. It’s been a week since I’ve washed, and I’ve forgotten how good it feels to be clean.
I spend far too long in the shower, washing my hair, and using all the luxurious products to cleanse my skin. I wonder if the sponge in here belongs to him as I slide it over my body and squeeze it between my legs. Has it touched his body too? What might that look like?
Heavenly, I imagine, because whoever the man is, he makes cruelty seem almost desirable. I shake that thought right out of my head and remind myself to focus.
Once I’m finished, I wrap myself up in a soft white towel from the rail, then use another to dry my hair. When I unlock the door and step back into the room, I half expect him to be there waiting for me. I’m even slightly disappointed that he isn’t, which is really fucked up, but I’ll put that aside for now.
As I move toward the bed, I notice the clean white shirt that's ironed to perfection and laid out for me. My fingers touch the soft fabric, and I smile to myself when I predict that this one belongs to him, not Ricardo.
His idea of something more appropriate is something that belongs to him, and I can already see the potential in that.
I finish drying myself off and put on the shirt because I figure being compliant is how I’m going to win my freedom back. That, and the fact that the thought of eating is far too tempting to compromise.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I warn Sylvia as she sets the table I’m sitting at, ready for dinner.
“Like what?” the old woman scorns back at me. She’s the only person I can think of who I’d allow to speak to me this way, and that’s because the woman practically raised me. She wasn’t too afraid to clip me across the ear when I was five years old. She probably wouldn’t be afraid to do it now.
“Like you're judging me,” I accuse, pouring myself a good helping of single malt from the decanter.
“I just wasn’t expecting a house guest. A little warning would have been courteous.”
“It looks to me like you’ve done well enough.” My eyes glance over the food that she’s laid out. There’s fresh bread, a selection of cheeses, some cooked meats, and fresh fruit. Not too shabby.
“Is she one of your brother’s girls?” Sylvia clears her throat, keeping her attention focused on the task at hand. She knows what me and my brother do, and she’s against it like every other self-respecting woman would be. With me, she takes the out of sight out of mind approach, but when it comes to Adriano’s endeavors, she’s intolerant.
Sylvia cares for me despite all my faults, and she’s never given up her search to find a good man within me. Maybe it’s because I pay her so well, but I like to think it’s more to do with the fact she’s the closest thing to a mother I’ve had since I lost my own.
“She came from Adriano,” I admit, “but she belongs to me now.”
“You’ve never made a habit of bringing your work home, Raphael,” she points out. And she’s right about that. I’ve trained many women before, and I enjoy women regularly. I never bring them to my home.
“Treat her more like a guest than an investment if it helps,” I shrug, lighting up a cigar and resting my head back against the chair. I always suffer from headaches when I return from a visit to Adriano. I put it down to the weight of all the guilt.
“I wouldn’t know how to treat an investment,” Sylvia snaps, letting the cutlery in her hand clatter onto the table, and with her lips pursed together tightly, she storms out the room, meeting Ricardo at the door. The giant brute of a man leaps out of her path when it becomes clear she’s stopping for no one.
“What's gotten into her?” he asks, turning his head to watch her out. He’s put on a fresh shirt since we got back. He was really pissed at having to give up his last one.
“She’s unhappy about the girl,” I explain, shrugging it off as no big deal.
“Someone should remind that old battle-ax who runs things around here.” Ricardo picks an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, tossing it in the air and catching it before he crunches a huge bite out of it.
I ignore his comment because Sylvia is more than just my housemaid, she’s my family, and any good memories I have from my childhood belong to her. She’s earned her position within my household.
Ricardo has the privilege of being part of a big family, so he doesn’t always understand. His mother and father still summon him and his siblings home every Sunday for big family dinners.
“Did you speak to security?” I ask him, checking my watch. I wonder if the girl will disrespect my hospitality by arriving late.
“All taken care of, boss. We have a man on her door and another on the ground beneath her balcony,” Ricardo confirms, setting my mind at rest. “Do you really think she’s as fiery as Adriano says?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows.
