Sold to Moretti Mafia

Markus

“I’m sorry, I forgot where I was,” she croaks, her voice full of sleep. I try and make myself not care that she is frightened but I can’t, so the second best thing is to shut my emotions down altogether.

“I’m going to untie you, lead you to the bathroom, and then we’re going to go into the kitchen so you can eat your breakfast. Remember my warning from last night?” I narrow my gaze, noticing the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

I wasn’t lying last night when I told her she was beautiful. Even bruised and scared, she looks like an angel. A heart-shaped face, full lips, and blue eyes that could make any man weak in the knees. She’s young too; there is still an innocence about her, which only adds to the appeal.

I shouldn’t allow myself to wonder how she ended up at the auction in the first place, but I do. They usually kidnap girls for those things from vacation spots or clubs. Wherever they can find young girls that won’t be missed right away.

Innocent and naive. They can get them to do anything they want. College is not their norm. My guess is she was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Yes, I remember,” she finally answers quietly.

I’m apprehensive in believing her but want to test her and see what she does. Untying her from the bed, I do my best not to brush against her skin. The warmth of her body calls to me already, and god knows I’m fucking attracted to her. I haven’t had sex in forever, so it wouldn’t take much for me to snap at this point.

I don’t fully believe her submissive nature. Even now, the way she is acting is odd, I just woke her up, and instead of screaming and begging for me to let her go, she says she forgot where she was? It’s strange and not typical of a captor, captive situation. Something is off about her.

With her arms released, she stretches them above her head, most likely trying to get the blood pumping back into them.

“Bathroom,” I growl, pointing toward it.

She nods and shoves to her feet faster than necessary.

I can see her falling before she does, and I catch her around the waist, seconds before she is about to hit the floor and tuck her into my chest. The drugs I gave her last night might have left her feeling a little woozy this morning, but that doesn’t stop me from lashing out at her.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” The words come out as a deep rumble from my chest as I peer down at her. I’m a good foot taller than she is, forcing her to crane her neck back to look up at me. I won’t deny her tiny little body pressed against my bare chest is probably the best thing I’ve felt in forever. It’s almost like she was made to fit there perfectly.

“No… I’m sorry. I’m just unsteady on my feet,” she replies but doesn’t make a move to push me away. Either she’s stupid or unaware of the danger she is in.

I could kill her with the snap of my fingers, which I’ve already proven. Subdue her with no effort and take what I want, and yet she stands here molded to my body, unwavering, without a plea falling from her lips.

My cock hardens in my low hanging sweatpants, and I know if I don’t push her away, I’ll end up fucking her right here and now. As tempting as that is, I’m wary about the way she is acting. It would be stupid of me to give into my most primal needs with her without seeing the full picture. Grabbing her by the arms, I give her a light shove, putting distance between our bodies. Distance is good and exactly what I need. It lessens her stupid intoxicating scent from entering my nose. It removes her soft little body from molding into the harsh pieces of my own.

I don’t want to be her missing puzzle piece or her savior. I want to own her, want her complete submission. I want her to be mine and understand the extent I’m willing to go to keep it that way.

“Good, because you’re no use to be if you’re dead,” I hiss.

Her big eyes grow a little rounder, but she doesn’t seem bothered by my brashness. That’s got to change. I need her afraid and not so accepting of her fate.

“Go to the restroom before I change my mind and tie you back to the bed for the rest of the day.” I shoo her away. Hesitantly, she walks away and into the adjacent bathroom.

She doesn’t even attempt to close the door behind her. In fact, she hasn’t tried to escape or begged me to let her go. She hasn’t even asked to call her parents or roommate to let them know she is okay.

Every order I give her, she obeys, and there is something wrong with that.

She shouldn’t obey me.

She shouldn’t blindly accept her fate, but that’s how she is acting.

The flushing of the toilet and the running of the faucet drag me from my thoughts and back to the present.

Walking into the room, she stops before me and peers up at me like I’m her master. That’s not really something she should want me to become. I can promise her that.

“Kitchen,” I say gruffly, irritated that I’ve repeated myself when I already laid out the plans for her. In fact, I’m irritated in general.

Angrily, I trudge out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen that opens into the living room with her on my heels.

When we reach the kitchen, I point to the chair and take the spot directly across from her. Pulling the chair out, she sits and stares down into her bowl of oatmeal for a moment before grabbing the spoon. She eats without question or complaint, even though I am certain the food is cold by now.

“I have questions.” I tap my fingers against the wood table.

“Yes?” She peers up at me, spoon partially in her mouth.

I notice then that her eyes are framed by thick, long lashes the color of sand. Creamy white skin, with a soft kiss of glow from the sun. I wonder if she would taste like her, if she would let me kiss… I shove the thought away before it can take root and clench my hands into a tight fist. I want to punch something, hurt someone. I’m not sure how, but I keep myself from doing either thing.

Focusing on my breathing alone, I ask the question I’m most curious about,

“Why haven’t you tried to escape? Begged me to release you? You haven’t even asked if you could call your parents. I’m sure you know how suspicious that makes me, right?”

Something close to fear flicks across her gaze and then disappears.

“If I asked you any of those things, what would be your answer?” She counters.

My gaze narrows to slits. “No.”

She lifts her chin just a little. “That’s exactly why. I’m not stupid. I already knew you wouldn’t let me do any of those things, so there was no point in asking. You bought me for a lot of money, so of course, you won’t let me go. Begging will get me nowhere, besides maybe irritating you more. Then there’s the fact that you’re twice my size, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. The chances I would get away from you are also slim to none, and I’ll probably just end up dead or hurt in the process of either. The best thing to do is to behave and listen, hoping that you won’t kill me or hurt me too badly.”

My teeth grind together, and I’m a little pissed at how smart and reasonable she is.

Buying her, I expected her to be timid and scared. To beg, plead, and do everything in her power to run away. My expectations were obviously off.

She is a politician’s daughter, all right. Assessing risks and trying to do damage control. Everything she said makes sense, but that doesn’t mean I can trust her.

She’ll have to do better than that.