Light snow had been falling when I left, the change in the weather forecast unpredicted, just like the change in my life. Harsh conditions. An icy reception. I almost laughed at the realization that everything I’d ever known had been swept away.
At precisely eight in the evening, a car had arrived to take me to my new destination. My father had said nothing, only kissing me on the forehead before walking into his office and closing the door. I’d refused to cry or show any emotion. I was cold, dead inside and that would keep me very much alive. I’d been blindfolded then forced into the backseat of a car, a man I’d never seen before slipping in beside me. I’d dared to gaze into his eyes, memorizing his face seconds before he’d secured the material around my eyes.
The brute was a solid three hundred pounds of muscle and anger.
Had I considered going to the police after lunch? Hell, yes, but memories of my beautiful mother had kept me from doing so. If there was a chance she was alive, I refused to give into my fears. If she wasn’t, the bastard would pay. Besides, the police would never believe me. The man had purchased my paintings. I’d no doubt been seen leaving with him, in his very expensive POS car from the gallery. The man was a master player and I was simply too na? ve.
Tears slipped past my lashes and I rubbed them away in a fierce manner. The asshole wasn’t going to get to me, no matter how sexy his eyes or demanding his tone. Fuck. Him. Fuck the world. I was my own woman. He will never break you. He will never break you…
I continued to say the words in my mind.
I shivered even though a roaring fire was going in the stone fireplace, unable to move any closer. The room was impressive in detail and design, artistic and very masculine, but also without any sign of life. The blinds were closed, including on the massive set of French doors and I dared not touch them. Tonight I’d remain compliant, pretending to listen to him until I knew what I was facing. I made several promises to myself, finally closing my eyes and catching my breath.
When I opened them I was calmer, able to study my surroundings. If this had been any other time, I might consider the space beautiful, but for me, this was nothing but four walls and roof.
A cage.
Swallowing, the bile sticking in my throat had been there since lunch, keeping my stomach churning. I’d thought through several plans, knowing that one day I would escape, but I’d have to play along. At least to a point. I’d followed at least one of Dominick’s orders, wearing a dress and heels. The entire situation was laughable. This wasn’t about a date or a round of passion, not that there’d been any real adoration in our hard fucking. Jesus. I still couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. There was no way I could fall for the man, no matter how much he threatened me. I wiped a single tear, refusing to succumb to anything that the man had to offer. I’d made a promise to myself and I would keep it.
Damn him.
Damn the world.
Damn my father.
My real anger was directed at myself. One night of letting go had turned into this. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. One day at a time.
I had no idea how long I’d been forced to wait. I also had no watch on my wrist, no jewelry of any kind in fact. Dominick’s orders had been very specific about what I’d been allowed to bring, which didn’t include my paints or canvases. All the discussions about my work, my art, and what I loved didn’t matter in the least. The rest of everything I might need he would furnish, or so he’d stated almost in passing. I’d noticed the Rolex on his arm, a bold statement for a man like him. Even his less formal attire had the scent of wealth, his shoes perfectly polished. The family lived in the lap of luxury while their victims suffered.
I was nothing to him. A commodity.
The sound of the lock engaging forced me against the sharp edge of a desk, the pain biting. I would show no fear.
Dominick walked in, looking entirely different than he had earlier in the day. His casual stone-washed jeans and simple polo shirt were a direct contrast to the man. They made him seem boyish, almost normal. There was nothing normal about the monster in any manner.
He stood, gazing at me. There was no smile, no emotion of any kind, merely a look as if he was checking off a box as an order came in. He closed the door, moving toward a gothic-looking bar on the far end of the room. “Would you like a drink, Caroline?”
“Nothing from you.” Ever. I heard him exhale, as if already disgusted with me. I scanned the room, searching for any weapons, my eyes falling on a letter opener. The thought was preposterous but tempting.
“I expect you will attempt that one day,” he said with no inflection.
“What are you talking about?”
He finished pouring two drinks, the liquid the color of smooth molasses. As he advanced, his gaze was concentrated on my breasts. I couldn’t help but notice his rugged good looks and the way the tight-fitting jeans hugged every curve, accentuating his muscular legs and the thick bulge between them. Embarrassed, I looked away, mortified that I would consider him handsome in any regard.
Or that I could actually want him.
“Escaping. Retaliating. I would expect no less from you.” Now he seemed amused as he held out his hand, offering one of the drinks.
“You know nothing about me.”
His chuckle pissed me off, enough so I lashed out, knocking the drink out of his hand, glass shattering in hundreds of pieces. His reaction didn’t come for a full minute and only after he took a sip of his drink, his hand wrapping around my hair and yanking. Using the hold to force me against the desk, he slammed his glass down so hard I jumped. “I’ve accepted the fact you require harsh discipline in order to simply get through to you. I know that you believe you will find a way to gain my trust, all the while planning your escape. I also know that all you’ve ever wanted to do is get out of your father’s house and from under his control. Your paintings tell no lies. You loathe him almost as much as you hate me. Tell me I’m wrong, Caroline.”
I abhorred the way he pronounced my name, as if everything about this situation was formal and legal. I hissed my answer.
“When I ask you a question, you will answer. Do you understand?”
“Yes…” The second hiss was elongated, floating from my pursed lips. I yelped when his hold tightened, and he ground his hips against my ass. His cock was thick, hard as a rock. I slapped my hands on his desk, gasping for air.
“Yes?”
“Yes. Sir.” I knew what he wanted, some bullshit level of respect.
“Now, answer the question. Am I wrong?”
He’d seen right through me, although he’d been able to pick up on my discontent from the minute he met me. “Fine. You’re right. You’re both disgusting, wretched excuses for human beings.”
“Doesn’t that make you feel better?” he asked, laughing.
The bastard was laughing at me. “Damn you. Damn you!”
He intertwined his fingers in my hair. “I promised you that your first lesson in obedience would begin tonight and it will.”
“Are you going to spank me again? Is that what you think will keep me in line?” I heard the ragged sound of his breathing matching the swift beating of my heart.
Dominick slipped his other hand around my arm, sliding his fingers under the bodice of my dress. A slight growl left his lips as he found his way under the thin elastic of my bra, cupping and squeezing my breast. “Your nipples are hard and the scent of your sweet and very wet pussy is ripe with the kind of need that burns from deep within.”
“No, you’re…” My voice trailed off as he flicked his finger back and forth across my hardened bud. I was stunned at my body’s reactions, at the way my pussy tingled. “Wrong,” I finished, defiance in my tone.