Arranged love

Chapter 229



Paddles drop as heads turn to stare at me. Some in shock, others in envy. Who the fuck would pay ten million for a woman they will just throw in a cage? This room might be full of whales, but none of them will dish out that kind of cash for a slave. Not a smart one, anyway. The wealthiest men can be the cheapest at times. And they’re not going to pay that much for pussy.

The woman runs onto the stage with her microphone in hand. “The auction has come to a close,” she states, unable to contain her shit-eating grin.

I send a quick text to Luca.

Me: She’s all mine.

MIA

I’M YANKED OFF stage and almost trip down the stairs again. Then I’m spun around, and my hands are pulled in front of me and crossed at the wrists. A zip tie is placed around them and pulled tight, pinching my skin. I reach up and fist both of my hands, landing a hit to his face.

“Bitch,” Richard growls and then slaps me so hard it knocks me into a table off to the side of the hallway. It hits me right in my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. My face stings, and I taste blood. He grips my hair and yanks my head back, placing his face in front of mine. His lips are so close to mine that they almost touch. He lets out a deep breath, and I have to swallow back the vomit from the smell of cigarettes. “Fuck, you’re not worth the hassle. No matter how much I’m getting paid to deal with you.”

I spit blood and saliva all over him, and that gets me another hit to my face. This time with his fist. So hard it knocks me out of my heels, and I fall to the cold concrete floor. I close my eyes and bite my tongue just to keep from whimpering when my hip hits again. I’m gonna be bruised all over, but I refuse to lie down and take it. I’m going to fight them no matter what. I choose force. They will have to drag my cold, dead body out to the back before I lie down and take whatever these sick bastards have planned. If any of these men think I’m going easy, I’ll prove them wrong. I have four brothers. My family is the Mafia, for Christ’s sake. I’ve been fighting them all my life. I can handle a fucking punch and a slap.

“Do I get a discount if my merchandise is damaged?” a deep voice asks from behind me. He sounds anything but concerned about the state he gets me in.

“She spit in my face,” Richard whines, pulling a pocket square from his expensive suit and running it over his face while glaring down at me.

I smile up at him from the floor. I go to kick him in the dick, but he takes a step back, expecting it. “Fucking piece of shit …”

A hand grips my upper arm, cutting me off, and I’m yanked to my feet. “Let’s go,” the deep voice orders.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“Fuck you.” I fight his hold. I can’t see his face due to my hair covering half of mine, and he’s forcing me to walk in front of him.

A door is shoved open at the end of the hallway, and I try to adjust my eyes to the darkness. It’s nighttime wherever we are, and the heat that hits me makes my skin instantly clammy. I go to run off, but the hand on my arm tightens. Nails dig into my skin, and I cry out, my knees buckling as he shoves me through the back door of a limo waiting for us in the alleyway.

Blowing the loose strands out of my face, I look around the inside. It’s dark in here too. Purple lights outline both benches at either end and a couch that runs along the opposite side of the bar.

I crawl across the black carpet the best I can to the other side of the car. I plop down on the small bench and turn to face the back door when it closes. Breathing heavily, I shove my hair out of my face the best I can and stare at the man who bought me like I’m cattle he’s going to slaughter and feed to his merry fucking men.

The purple lights that line the ceiling illuminate his face. A set of hard blue eyes glare at mine, framed with dark lashes, a straight nose, and chiseled cheekbones. The lack of lighting makes him look hauntingly beautiful dressed in a black suit and matching button-down. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A pretty face to hide the evil. There are no Prince Charmings in my world. Only beasts who claw and fight their way through the masses to get to the top.

“Ready, Nigel,” he orders, not taking his eyes off mine.

“Yes, sir,” says the driver sitting behind me. I turn around to see him just as he closes the divider, closing us in together.

I swallow, turning back to face the monster. “Where are we going?” I ask nervously. Does he live in the States? How far will he take me? I don’t have a phone. I don’t even have an ID. I was taken with only the clothes on my back, which wasn’t much.

I stand in the pool at my father’s Venetian home in Italy. My arms are on the side as I look out over the infinity pool and to the ocean. It’s calm at night. It’s also my favorite time for a swim. I hear the sliding glass door open behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see one of my older brothers-Matteo-walk outside dressed in his three-piece charcoal suit.

I swallow nervously. He never comes to visit me. He stays in the States. The twins live here, but they leave me the hell alone. I don’t even exist to them, and I prefer it that way.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, looking around to see it’s just him and me.

“Here on business.” That’s his cryptic answer.

“Well, the twins aren’t home,” I say and turn my attention back to the dark ocean.

“Actually …” I see his shoes come to stand at the edge of the pool out of the corner of my eye. “You’re the job.”

I didn’t have a second to escape. He reached down, gripped my hair, and dragged me out of the pool kicking and screaming. Then he placed a piece of cloth over my mouth. I fought him with all I had, but eventually, my body betrayed me, and I was out. When I woke up, I was in a penthouse in New York. I was stripped, washed, and waxed. Touched from head to toe to make me look like a million dollars. To make me desirable. They drugged me. I know they did. I have times that are missing. Days even. I’m not sure how long it’s been or if we’re still in New York. All I know is that when I woke up, my body was sore, and there were visible bruises that had been there for days, judging by their color.

“Do our family justice,” my brother Matteo had said to me before I had passed out in Italy. Then today, I was dropped off at the auction with a hood over my head.

The man sits back in his seat, breaking our stare. His eyes drop down the length of my body and stop on my thigh. My dress had a slit up the side, but since Richard shoved me down, it’s ripped clear up to my hip on the right side. You can see the strap to my black lace thong.

He doesn’t answer me as his eyes return to mine.

“Hey, jackass?” I snap. “Where the fuck are you taking me?”

He pours himself a drink from the bottle that sits in the glass bucket. “If you won’t be silent, I’ll make you.” He finally speaks directly to me, sounding bored.

Oh, this fucker … “Gonna beat me into submission? I’ll kick your ass,” I warn, wishing I still had my high heels on. The sharpness of the heel could come in handy when you want to poke someone’s eye out.

“No,” he replies in that same tone, but I see a glint in his eyes. Something tells me he’s going to be one of those sick fuckers who likes to prove their dominance. He swirls his drink, the ice clanking, and his eyes drop to my exposed hip again. “I’ll remove your thong and gag you with it.”

My jaw tightens while my tied hands fist in my lap. “Trying to silence me so I can’t scream rape?” Typical man who has to force a woman in order for him to feel like he’s in control.

His drink pauses in his hand, and he looks oddly satisfied to answer that question. “If I decide to fuck you, you’ll choose to remove your clothes for me.”

The audacity. I roll my eyes. “Fat chance, asshole.”


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