Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
It’s not as though I’m any better. I plan to fuck her. All day and night if I could, but I’m a busy man, so luck is on her side. She will cater to me. My every need and desire will be her responsibility, but I’m not a fucking pig like the men back in that warehouse, and I will give just as eagerly as I receive.
I don’t know what possessed me to claim her. I don’t particularly care for having a pet, and judging by the fire in her eyes, she doesn’t strike me as the type to submit willingly. But she will. I’ll leave her no choice.
She’s going to be work, and probably a huge pain in my ass, and despite knowing this the moment I laid eyes on her, I still claimed her. I’m painfully aware of the fact that I require an heir to inherit my legacy in the event my life shall be taken from this world, though it’s still undecided whether she will be the one to bear my child.
All I know is that the moment our eyes collided across that filthy warehouse, I could sense her pure desperation. She was silently screaming for me to save her, and as those other bastards bid for what already belonged to me, I couldn’t stomach the idea of watching her being gifted to another man. Don’t get me wrong, had she been claimed by someone else, I would have still found her and slaughtered the pig who dared treat her as his own. However, letting it get that far only meant I was lining the pockets of Ezekiel and his asshole employees, and taking that payday away from them was a prize I simply couldn’t pass up.
Ezekiel and his men are the scum of the earth, and the second I no longer require them to run my drugs, they’ll be slaughtered like the animals they are. My cousin, Sergiu, insists that we keep them around, but turning a blind eye to their shit has been challenging. Considering everything they’ve got their toes dipped in, it’s clear they’re capable of keeping a tight lid on their business, but every time I walk in there and see it for myself, my skin crawls. If they weren’t such an integral part of my operation, I would have dealt with them long ago.
Most of the time, I’m able to turn a blind eye to the women Ezekiel traffics, but something about this woman caught my attention. I usually leave Sergiu to deal with business here, but Ezekiel needed a reminder about just how disposable he really is.
The question is, what the hell am I supposed to do with her now that she belongs to me?
Do I lock her in my cells to use as I see fit, or do I allow her freedom within my home?
My gaze drops down her body. The dried blood on her thigh and the fresh scratches and bruises decorating her skin are a clear indication of the mistreatment she received while in Ezekiel’s clutches. The very sight of her has me wanting to teach her how to ensure this bullshit never happens again. Though, I suppose there’s no need for that anymore. Not now that she belongs to me. Whether she likes it or not, my home is not a place she will ever escape. She will live under my roof from now until her dying breath, whether that be in peace or as a prisoner.
As my gaze trails back up to her face, I find her stare already on mine. There are a million questions in her lifeless green eyes, probably wondering what happens from here. “When was the last time you drank water?” I ask. She needs to maintain her energy if she is going to keep up with the demanding lifestyle that’s about to be thrust upon her.
She visibly swallows. “I, umm . . . can’t be sure,” she says in a quiet tone. Though something tells me the moment she finds her comfort within my home, that quiet tone will morph into a fierce demand, and that’s exactly what’s required of a woman in my world.
I nod, and as if on cue, my driver silently hands me a bottle of water. I quickly uncap it before passing it to her. She slowly takes it from me, but there’s a strong hesitation in her eyes, wondering if she should trust me, but she sips on the water anyway. Her body is far too deprived to resist.
She keeps that penetrating gaze on me, clearly not trusting me, but I don’t expect her to. I’m not her savior, and I’m sure as fuck not her hero. As long as she’s clear in that understanding, we’ll be good.
Realizing just how long this trip home is going to be if she’s incapable of relaxing, I dig into the pocket of my suit jacket and curl my hand around a small bottle of pills. Pulling it out, I open the cap, and with every passing second, I feel her gaze like laser beams trying to penetrate right through me.