Chapter 10

Emily

As I tried to open my eyes, I was struck immediately by the hard pounding of my head, the ache bad enough I was queasy. Blinking, I tried to make out anything in the room, but it was so dark, so very dark. Where was I? I tried to think about what I remembered. I was in my room and…

The flood of images rushing into my mind was as horrifying as the realization that I'd been abducted from my home. What the hell was going on? Terror ripped through me and only then did I realize one arm was shackled over my head. Oh, God. I fought to roll over, trying to untie whatever was holding me in place but it was no use.

My captor had used handcuffs.

A strangled whimper left my mouth even though I did what I could to keep the sound muffled. The last thing I wanted was for the bastard to hear me. For a few seconds, I concentrated on breathing, using my other hand to feel out where I was. I was on a bed in a dark room. That was about all the information I could gather other than the sheets were soft and my feet were bare.

I slipped my hand under the covers, terrified I'd been violated for a second time, but my clothes remained on. Although I was now wearing what felt like a dress. What? The asshole had taken the time to change my clothes? Who did that kind of thing?

I was so terrified that all I could do was lie in the same position, the horrible thoughts racing through my mind inventing all kinds of dangerous things. The monster had claimed me. I belonged to him.

My throat threatened to close, my entire body shaking from fear and sickness. What had the asshole given me and how long had I been out? I was shaking all over, fighting the rapid breathing for fear of having a panic attack. That wasn't going to help the situation in any way. So much of me wanted to cry but what good would that do, other than add to his likely satisfaction that he'd succeeded in slowly breaking down my defenses. The ugly truth would haunt me until the day I died.

I toyed with the devil, and he'd won. It was plain and simple.

And I was a very foolish girl.

He'd stalked and captured his prey, just like I'd known he was going to do all along. Why hadn't I told someone?

Because they wouldn't have believed you.

Or cared.

Another wave of nausea almost had me leaning my head over the side, retching onto the floor. While that would serve the son of a bitch right, I refused to give the asshole the satisfaction that he'd gotten to me in any way. My father had to be looking for me by now. Wasn't he?

Would he bother to care about what happened to his own daughter? A rattled whimper rolled into my throat. I couldn't believe I was thinking that way. Of course my father would care what happened.

Another sickening series of images rushed into my mind of seeing Jessup and Carson. Dead. They were dead. Oh, God. How could this happen?

Why had he done this? What had I ever done to him? Maybe this was all about one of my father's enemies. That made sense. Or was this about ransom since my father was a gazillionaire? Whatever the case, I had to keep my wits about me so if I talked to my father, I could provide clues as to where I was being held and who was behind the abduction.

I laid in the dark for another five minutes before the panic really started to settle in.

I fought with the bindings once again before realizing light had suddenly illuminated where I was. As I turned my head, I noticed his large frame just inside the door. He was no longer wearing a hoodie. From what I could tell, he had a suit on. I did what I could to shrink back, sucking in and holding my breath.

He just stood there staring at me, his silhouette filling the doorway. He had to be at least six foot five with massive shoulders. They were so broad I wasn't certain how he could fit through the door, any door. From where I was, he didn't seem like a monster, even if I couldn't see his face.

Oh, what did I know about monsters? Other than my father.

"Who are you?" I croaked. "Why did you take me? I need to go home."

"You're awake, my sweet angel. I was becoming worried. But I will say that you're in no position to make a single demand."

His deep baritone was like soft velvet, but I wasn't fooled by the tenderness in his voice. "You did this to me. Why? Why?" I rattled the handcuff, fighting it with everything I had, allowing the anger to take over from the fear.

"Because I decided your life was worth saving."

The statement was one I hadn't expected. "What does that mean?"

He took a step inside the room and I recoiled as much as possible. But his scent floated toward me, a musky fragrance mixed with a hint of the deep forest. Still, the man repulsed me as he should.

"That means someone wanted you dead."

"That's crazy. How would you know something like that?"

Remaining quiet, he walked further into the room, taking his time heading to the bed. When he sat down on the edge, I scooted as far away from him as possible. He sighed in response. "Because I was approached by some bad men to end your beautiful life."

The shock of what he'd just said momentarily stunned me into silence. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie?"

"To make excuses for the fact you kidnapped me." When I struggled with the shackles once again, he cupped my face with enough force that I lost the battle of not allowing him to know how much he bothered me, the whimper as strangled as before.

I hated that I wanted to see what he looked like. I couldn't stand that his scent was driving me crazy, adding to the throbbing between my legs. And I felt sick inside knowing that I'd craved this reprehensible monster before. How could I be so stupid? I should have followed my instincts. Now I was his possession, likely his plaything.

As he slowly lowered his head, the light streaming into the room allowed me to catch a slight glimpse of his eyes. They burned into mine, so piercing they took my breath away. While I couldn't tell what color they were, it was easy to see the icy coldness in them, as if the bastard didn't have a soul.

"I think you need to accept that you now belong to me, sweet angel. My little sparrow. As such, there are rules you must follow. I can either make your stay with me pleasant or ripped with anguish. It's entirely up to you. Do you understand?"

I was shaking from fear, my mind a fuzzy mess, but I'd been trained in the art of being a hostage. My father had insisted. "Yes, I understand." Playing the part was crucial. Following the man's rules was necessary. And sucking up to him, pretending as if I cared about him would be vital to my escape. I only hoped it was something I could stomach.

"Good girl. You will have free rein of my house, but you are not allowed outside without an escort. You will not try and escape or you will face harsh punishment. You will spend time with me when I request your presence. Otherwise, you will be allowed to enjoy what my world can offer."

His hold remained firm, his fingers digging into me. And as he lowered his head even more, I was certain he was going to kiss me. I wanted so much to turn my head away or to spit on him. All I could do was to purse my lips, refusing to allow him access to my mouth. Why did I have a feeling at some point he would pry it open?

He chuckled, the sound as dark and dangerous as the man. "You're a feisty little angel. I adore that about you. I watched you from afar, noticing how full of life you were."

"You killed them. Didn't you?"

"If you mean your bodyguards, it was an unfortunate necessity. They would have tried to prevent me from taking what rightfully belonged to me."

"I don't belong to you."

He nodded his head as another godforsaken whimper escaped my mouth. "Yes, you do. Now, let's get you up and out of this room. I'm certain you're thirsty and hungry since it's been a while."

"You drugged me. You removed my clothes!" Yes, my tone was accusatory, but I could tell instantly all I'd done was amuse him.

"I had to. I certainly didn't want my angel to catch a cold."

I was so sick inside I knew I would vomit but getting out of this room was the first step to gaining my freedom. I could do this. I could act as if I wasn't as horrified as I was.

"Now, continue being a good little girl for me." He released his hold, reaching up to the pair of handcuffs. I paid attention to which pocket he removed the small key from just in case I could gain access to the jacket he was wearing in the future. I was determined to notice everything about him and where I was staying so when I talked to the police, I could give them every detail of my incarceration.

I bit back all the nasty things I wanted to say as he freed my arm. Very slowly he rose from the bed, immediately holding out his hand. If he believed I wanted to touch him, he was a sicker fuck than I initially thought. I swung my legs off the side of the bed, fighting to keep from even looking at the bastard.

But when I stood, I was still so woozy from whatever drug he'd given me that I almost fell flat on my face. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against him and the feel of his hard body wasn't nearly as horrifying as I'd thought it would be. I even found myself pressing my hand against his chest, marveling in the feel of his sculpted muscles. Oh, dear God, what was wrong with me?

He turned me around to face him, still holding me tightly. There was something more tender about the way he cupped my face, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my lips. I was shocked at my body's reaction, the aching need building in a way I hadn't experienced before. I was no virgin. I'd been attracted to men, or maybe I should say boys. But the way I felt about this disgusting monster was so confusing.

It was as if the fantasy I'd built in my mind, the intense longing I'd dreamt about was coming true. The sound of his deep baritone voice was mesmerizing. The way he was staring at me in the darkness all consuming. And the electricity that hummed around us like a live wire incredible.

"I will do everything in my life to protect you, my sweet angel. As long as you obey me." As he lowered his head, capturing my mouth, a strange sense of knowing he wasn't lying to me shifted into my system. He didn't need to fight me, easily opening my lips to slip his tongue inside.

God. I'd gone from one horror to another. I couldn't seem to stop shaking.

My fingers clamped around his shirt, his musky aftershave becoming even more intoxicating, and the taste of scotch and peppermint exploded my senses. I was on fire, so alive my pussy ached. The faint but recognizable hint of my desire tore though me. I was as embarrassed as I was aroused, hating myself for feeling this way.

He swept his tongue inside, dominating mine, the kiss so passionate I was left breathless with building need. As he shifted his hips back and forth, I was able to tell how excited he was, his cock throbbing between my legs. I envisioned the long and thick shaft, unable to force the reprehensible image out of my mind.

My God. What was wrong with me? What kind of drug had he administered? The moment of intimacy lasted for several minutes and when he pulled away, he eased his face to the crook in my neck, allowing his hot breath to cascade across my sizzling skin. "It's going to be so amazing to taste you later tonight. I will make it so good for you, baby."

His words drove me out of the spazzy realm I was in, my body stiffening. I pushed both hands against his chest, able to break our connection seconds later. As I tumbled backward, almost falling, he issued another knowing laugh.

"You delight me, Emily. It's going to be truly wonderful to break you, mold you, and bring you back to the glory that you should have. Come. Do not make me tell you twice." He backed away to the door, cocking his head in anticipation I would follow without hesitation.

I willed my feet to move forward, still sick inside but more determined than ever to get out of his clutches. The bastard couldn't keep me against my will. He would pay the price and I would enjoy studying him like the venomous snake he was behind bars where he'd rot away for the rest of his miserable life.

I even managed to plant a smile on my face as he led me out of the room. He took my hand in a sensual way and I sucked in my breath. What I found interesting is that once in the light, he turned his face away, pulling me along from behind. Did the bastard honestly believe I wasn't going to memorize every detail of his face to help with his arrest? He was even more arrogant than I thought.

I remained unsteady and having him help me down the stairs was a necessity, even though his gentle touch made my skin crawl. Still, I scanned the stairwell, noticing we were inside what I envisioned to be a huge house of some kind. My guess was it was outside of Boston, maybe in one of the wealthy suburbs close to my father's house. It was still night, which likely meant he hadn't taken me far away.

As we landed on the bottom step, he stopped short, slowly turning his head toward the corridor of rooms to the left. The front door was to the right. There wasn't a security system that I could see positioned on the wall, but that didn't mean he hadn't placed it in a less conspicuous area like an office or the kitchen. However, I made mental note of it. Maybe he was arrogant enough to think he could con me easily.

"Did your mother ever tell you that you had to work for your supper?"

His statement caught me off guard completely. "My mother is dead."

"I'm well aware of your mother's death." The bastard's statement allowed me to know he'd learned everything he could about me, which was undoubtedly from breaking and entering my father's home.

And taking you.

I recoiled from his touch, even if goosebumps were tickling my skin.

He took the last step onto the garishly beautiful granite floor, the colorations unlike anything I'd ever seen but more artistic than I would have believed a killer would be interested in. "You'll need to prove to me that you understand that this is now your home."

He made that ugly little statement after walking me down a wide hallway, passing by several stunningly decorated rooms. For some reason, I would have believed the man preferred classic black and white, like most crazed people did. But his tastes were as impressive as they were artistic. And in every comfortable space was a massive door leading to what had to be the outside.

Every step of the way, my photographic memory allowed me to capture a picture. If he noticed I was stopping along the way, scanning every room, he didn't acknowledge it, just continuing to walk more like a robot than a man.

When he came to the end of the hallway, there were two doors, the wood tones rich and I sensed terribly expensive like everything else I'd seen.

"My sweet virtuoso. I hope this will make you happy."

Virtuoso. I shuddered from the thought.

He opened the one on the right, walking inside in a rather dramatic way, turning immediately and watching my reaction. It was obvious he was waiting to see if I approved.

A glossy ebony Steinway grand piano was positioned in the center of the room, sweeping windows with no openings located as walls on two sides, the other two walls painted in crimson. As I studied the oversized space, I couldn't help but be reminded of the blood that had covered my hands and legs as being the same color as the paint. The black and white tile floor was highly polished, the drapes adorning the windows in red velvet and the artwork on the two walls sexual in nature.

There was also a leather sofa and coffee table, no doubt for the asshole to be able to sit and enjoy hearing his little sparrow playing for her supper.

I wanted to be repulsed from seeing women depicted in various stages of undress, some being flogged by masked individuals wearing dark leather. It was the epitome of BDSM. I knew better. I'd taken a class in college on the art of ecstasy and agony, as the professor had called it, even taking a field trip to one of the local clubs. I'd been a voyeur instead of a practicing submissive, but the moment had been eye opening.

One of the paintings drew my attention and I found myself heading toward it, instantly shocked seeing the exterior depicted of the very club my professor had taken the class to. The moment I pressed my hand across my mouth to keep from crying out, I felt his presence behind me.

"I thought you would appreciate seeing art of the same location you were taken almost two years ago. I had an artist friend of mine paint that especially for you, my angel, as I did most of the other pieces in this room. While I must admit I was surprised to learn you'd taken the class, that added to the realization of just how truly special you are."

I was certain I would soon collapse on the floor, but I was determined not to do a single thing to allow him satisfaction. "It was just a class, not a life choice."

"Mmm… Whatever you say, sweet Emily. This is your space, everything I knew you'd like."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I knew he was waiting for my appreciation. The last thing I wanted to do was to anger him. "This is… amazing." God, my words and voice were stilted. I only prayed to God he didn't notice.

"I'm very pleased. Now, come. It's time you play for me. Only for me."

The image of the picture remained in the front of my brain as I turned around to capture a glimpse of my abductor. I was shocked by two things, the first being how insanely gorgeous he was. I was right about how tall he was, at least six foot five with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, a perfect shade of cobalt kissed with a hint of ice. His irises held the most incredible violet luminance, accented by long, lush eyelashes and a strong brow. His jaw was as perfectly chiseled as the rest of him. He wore no tie, which allowed me to bask in the thick cords on his neck.

The suit was unable to hide how muscular his physique truly was, his long torso and massive thighs making my mouth water. But more noticeable even than his extreme beauty was the scar on his right cheek, the mottled skin as if it had been seared in the hottest of fires.

He was watching me as intently as before, his jaw clenched as if in preparation for what I'd say. Everything about the moment, the situation and what I was feeling continued to surprise me, especially when I reached out to touch the scar. He grabbed my hand when it was only inches away, his heated gaze falling all the way down the dress he'd slapped on me to my bare feet.

"I say when you're allowed to touch. Now, go play so we can enjoy dinner together."

His tone was stern instead of sensual, his command something I knew I'd better not ignore. He let go of my hand, waiting until I turned and walked toward the piano. My pulse was racing, my mind spinning with how I was going to get away from him. I pressed my hands down the dress he'd selected for me, trying desperately to control the fear tearing through me. The bastard hadn't allowed me to wear any panties.

I sat down, studying him once again as he walked toward the couch, taking the time to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He even undid another few buttons on his crisp white shirt. Why did I have the feeling that every suit in his closet was the same color, all worth thousands of dollars as was every piece of furniture, every work of art in his house?

"If you don't mind, while I do adore the Rachmaninoff piece I've heard you play several times, I would prefer something that is more befitting the moment." He sat down and immediately crossed one leg over the other, placing his ankle on his knee and splaying his arms across the back of the couch.

He looked entirely too comfortable while I was jumping out of my skin. He wanted something to fit the moment? Well, fuck him. I'd give him just that. As I started to play, I did my best to ignore the fear, the comprehension of the moment. At least being inside the music, I could forget the horror that had become my life if only for a little while.

Only a few seconds in and I closed my eyes, my muscles finally relaxing. I enjoyed feeling lost, the sense of melancholy that the piece provided. That's what suited my mood perfectly. It was gothic and dark, ominous in the deep bass undertones. Even though I could still feel the effects of the drug, the feeling of playing was similar to the way it had always been. A protection.

A release.

Freedom.

When I was finished, I took several scattered breaths before pulling my hands away. What I hadn't expected, nor did I want to acknowledge was his rapid appreciation, the intensity of his clapping echoing in the high ceilings.

"A fascinating choice. Requiem by Fauré. I was hoping for something a little more joyful given this is a celebration, but I do understand the choice. Outstanding. How about one more?"

Who was I to be able to deny him? And so I played, this time selecting a Verdi piece I'd learned soon after my mother had been murdered. As I'd done before, I allowed myself to become lost in the moment.

And as he'd done before, when I was finished, his clapping filled the room.

"Exceptional. You truly are a beautiful and vivacious virtuoso."

"I'm not a virtuoso. I merely enjoy playing the piano."

He chuckled as he rose to his feet. "Then you underestimate yourself, my sweet angel. Come into the kitchen with me. We'll have some wine and I'll start dinner for us. I hope you enjoy pasta."

"You're going to have one of your staff members make dinner for us, a feast to feed your captive?" I couldn't help myself.

His eyes flashed a level of darkness that would scare most people. I was most people and I was absolutely petrified of him and what he could do. However, I doubted he'd do something horrible to me just yet. He had other plans for his little captive.

"While I do have a housekeeper and a full-time grounds person, Emily, I prefer to handle various domestic tasks myself, such as cooking. You might be surprised to learn in addition to various… attributes that I have in the dangerous world in which we live, I am also an accomplished chef. It's something I take great pride in."

I wasn't certain what to say to that. He returned to his level of amusement because of my silence. At least I knew he had hired help. At minimum, they might be able to help me get away from him.

"What about guards?"

He laughed. "Of course I have guards watching my estate here and keeping an eye on the one outside of Boston. They also handle certain aspects of my work as I deem necessary."

"You're nothing but a Mafioso."

"Mmm… That would be my brother at this point, a position I gave up to him."

He'd allowed me to learn something about his life. That's why he had so much influence. His entire family likely did. Who the hell was this man? "I bet you're an award-winning boss too." I couldn't help myself, issuing snark after snark. What was I supposed to do?

"You should keep in mind that those I employ are very loyal. They will not take kindly to your attempts to escape or maligning their employer. I'm very good to my people, Emily. I take pride in providing benefits that far exceed those of typical corporate America. That helps keep them extremely devoted. That's something for you to keep in your mind. Now, come. I'll open a bottle of wine. I know you prefer red, merlot if I remember. Yes?"

Was he kidding me? Did he want a medal for being employer of the year? He acted as if killing people was just another day at the office.

Maybe that's why I was so icy cold.

My mouth was drier than when I'd awakened. How deep of a dive had he done into my life and more important, why? Was he a mind reader too? I was sicker than before, the fear spinning in my mind and churning in my stomach. "Yes."

"Excellent. I much prefer the bolder flavor myself. I believe I have something you'll enjoy very much." He shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding toward the door.

I was stiffer than before as I walked down the hallway, guided by him from behind. I was led to the kitchen, the gorgeous space making it obvious that someone in the house enjoyed cooking. The refrigerator, gas ovens, and eight-burner cooktop were all of commercial grade. Once inside, he immediately moved to a small countertop wine cooler that held no more than ten bottles. I would have thought he'd have a wine cellar given the way he talked.

"I assure you I have a much larger selection, but these are my everyday wines." He moved to a cabinet, pulling down two large crystal stems, fumbling in one of his drawers until he found a wine opener.

The man was uncanny with his abilities, something I would also need to keep in mind.

"Help yourself to a bottle of water in the refrigerator. You need to stay hydrated."

I swallowed another round of bile and headed for the stainless-steel side by side. The fridge was stocked with food, fresh meats and cheeses, fruits and vegetables. There were several kinds of juice as well. It was obvious the man was rich, which aided in his vile needs and actions.

I pulled out a bottle, cracking the top and chugging almost the entire contents. By the time I placed the plastic on the island, he'd walked closer, never blinking as he studied me.

"Good girl," he breathed as he handed me a glass of wine.

I accepted, doing everything I could to avoid touching his skin. He was having none of it, fingering the top of my hand, breathing in deeply as the electricity soared. I couldn't stop shivering, pulling my hand away and taking a step in the opposite direction.

He took a sip of his wine, his eyes half closing as he did. "Chateau Lafite Rothschild, a two thousand and nine Pauillic. Of course, it's more of a Bordeaux, but I had a feeling you would enjoy it."

Enjoy it? The wine was somewhere in the neighborhood of thirteen hundred dollars a bottle. I could only imagine the cost of his preferred wines in his collection.

"And what would you say the notes are with this one?" He swirled the dark liquid in the glass, prompting me to take a sip. He was playing a game of some sort, testing me. I could only imagine what would happen if I lied.

I stood frozen to the spot, staring into the glass as if the face of the devil was inside. No, that was right in front of me.

"Come, child. I am fully aware your father is a wine connoisseur. He must have taught you a thing or two."

"How do you know so much about me and my family?"

His smile could light up a room, his presence bold and unforgettable. "Because in my business, I'm required to learn everything I can about my marks, even those I'm merely considering handling."

Handling under contract. That was his nicer way of saying he murdered people for hire.

"So you are an assassin."

"Yes, a damn good one. Now, answer the question."

I wasn't certain I could drink the wine, but I took a sip, fighting all the terror that threatened to turn me into a puddle. At least the single sip was incredible. "Um. Blackberry. Kirsch. Leather. A hint of vanilla bean and espresso and…" I couldn't quite place the subtle yet powerful smell. I glanced in his direction as I took a deep whiff, holding the breath in my lungs, noticing the thick bulge between his legs. I was going to be very ill. I knew it. I could feel it. "A cigar box and licorice."

"Bravissimo. Perfect. I knew you were perfect." He threw back half the glass as if it was rotgut before placing it on the counter. Then he rubbed his hands together before grabbing an apron from a small door.

I was caught in a toxic nightmare watching my abductor donning the black material. While he tied it around his waist, he told me what he intended on preparing. Every word now echoed, the dull tapping sensations pushing another wave of nausea into my system.

He was so matter of fact, even jovial as he pulled out items. The finest canned tomatoes, peppers, shrimp and scallops, garlic cloves, and even fresh linguini. I found myself forced to lean against the edge of the island to keep from falling to the floor.

While he continued talking, I sipped the wine, noticing the moon was full, the bright orb illuminating a huge backyard, a forest of trees of an undistinguishable type. The ringing in my ears increased and I only hoped he wasn't asking me any questions.

I took another sip, tingling all over. Tears formed in my eyes, but I blinked them away. Crying wouldn't solve anything. Nothing. This wasn't happening. This was nothing but a horrible dream I'd soon wake up from. It had to be. It just… had to be.

I was jarred out of the horrible lull seconds later, the sharp sound catching my attention fully. It was a phone.

As I jerked up my head, I could immediately tell he was furious at the interruption.

"Excuse me, angel. I'll just be a second." He whipped out a phone from his back pocket, turning off the burner before heading around the end of the counter toward the floor-to-ceiling kitchen window.

I stared at him for a few seconds until my mind finally awakened from the deep slumber it had been in. At that moment, I did what any red-blooded captive would do.

I ran.