Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I reply, feigning ignorance. “But I seriously doubt he’s going to be happy to come back to his villa to find me kidnapped. You just made yourself an enemy. And how do you think Bryant Morelli is going to feel about you kidnapping me?” I muster up a smile reminiscent of the one Nick always gives when he’s trying to conceal his true emotions. “The Sidorov family fucked up.”
I can see the man’s anger is starting to grow, and reaching out, he strikes me hard across the cheek. “I don’t care who your daddy is, or whose whore you are. You better mind the way you speak to me.”
I shake my head slowly, keeping the fake smile painted on my face, not revealing that his slap stung like a bitch. “You should care.”
I don’t know where I’m getting all this courage. But I know that if I have any chance of surviving, I have to present myself as one of them. I have to dance in their shadows right along with them to earn this man’s respect. If I cry and grovel, I know he’ll not go easier on me. In fact, I know my tears will make his dick hard, and he’ll fuck me rather than grill me for information. If I’ve learned anything at all from Nick, it’s how to put on that fake smile and exude power even if it’s as far away as possible from what I’m actually feeling.
Reaching for a small knife in his belt, the man cuts a line through my shirt and into my chest, a thin line of blood staining the lacy material of my bra. The cut isn’t deep, but I know meant to scare. He stares at me directly in the eyes, assessing, waiting for me to cry out in pain, to beg for him to stop his torture and have mercy on me.
I refuse to give him the satisfaction, remaining silent, barely flinching as the blade cuts into my skin even though the fire sizzles along my flesh.
“Did Nick cut you too?” the man asks close to my ear, the blade still threatening, this time at my throat. “I’ve heard rumors that Nick likes his sex dark.”
When I don’t answer, the man slices my chest yet again, deeper this time.
“Did he like knife play? Does he use that blade of his on the cane?” the man demands, his anger bubbling over at my minimal reactions.
“When he sees these marks on me,” I finally say, “he’s going to cut your fucking fingers off. And then”—I swallow against the searing pain—“he’s going to shove them down your throat before he kills you.”
The man strikes me across the face again, blood spilling from my lip. “Why does he seem to care about you? Why was he trying to protect you? Why would he risk pissing off the Morellis and the Constantines?” He slices the knife across my chest again, drawing a bloody line from one nipple to the other. “Are you in the Morelli will? Are you going to inherit an ungodly amount of money?”
I endure, remaining nonreactive, though blood now freely trickles down my chest. The man is grasping at straws, and I like that he can’t read me or read my situation.
“This isn’t the Nick Hudson I know. This is not the ‘life of the party’ man who’d rather be in Wonderland than the dark streets of our world.” The man’s eyes again narrow, his fist rises, ready to strike again. “What does he know that we don’t?”
“Ask him yourself, asshole,” is my only reply. “Or at least try before he kills you.”
With that, the man’s clenched fist lowers, and walking behind me, he uses the bloody blade of the knife to cut the binds loose from my wrists.
“I don’t need to. I saw at Wonderland just how much the men around the table were willing to pay for you,” the man says as he walks toward the door. Looking over his shoulder, he adds, “We’re going to auction you off to the highest bidder tonight. I think you’re going to be a great payday for us.” He laughs. “Let’s see who wants you more. Daddy? The Constantines? Nick Hudson?”
I chuckle to myself and shake my head.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“You picked the wrong Morelli. This isn’t going to be the payday you expect.”
He takes a step away from me and crosses his arms against his body. “Oh we’ll see about that. I have a price in mind. A very, very lucrative price in mind. And my guess is that by the time the auction is over, I’ll have it.”
I remain silent, wondering what the price is and if anyone—including Nick—would actually pay it.
He looks down at the cut and bloody lines he left on me. “I’ll send someone in to clean you up and give you something fresh to wear. We want you presentable for tonight.”