Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Roselia awoke hours later to the feel of Stefano's erection pressing against her back. His fingers trailed up and down her arm, causing goosebumps. He kissed her neck. "Are you sore, sweetheart?"

She shook her head. She would never admit to that. Not if he was willing to do it again.

He rolled away for a second, and she whimpered, but then she heard the sound of a condom wrapper. When his front was once again pressed against her back, he rocked her forward and pushed her top leg up, while he reached a hand between her legs to stroke her swollen folds.

"So wet for me. How are you so wet so quickly?" He nibbled her ear.

She shivered. "I was dreaming about you taking me again." She wasn't kidding. She'd been dreaming about his cock inside her, filling her, making her crazy with lust.

"Mmm." He lined his shaft up with her entrance from behind and eased into her. "You feel so good. I'm insatiable." He slid his hand along the back of hers, threaded their fingers together, and pressed her palm into the mattress.

His wicked mouth licked and nipped at her neck and ear, making her delirious. "So good. I'll never let you go, sweetheart."

God, she hoped not.

He took his time, moaning into her ear as he slid in deeper and deeper. Eventually, he released her hand to cup her breast and play with her nipple before he slid his fingers down to her clit. As soon as he stroked the swollen nub, she whimpered.

"I love the sounds you make, Rose," he murmured as he circled her clit and then tapped it several times. "You're so pure."

She couldn't stop the sounds, and he didn't care, so she didn't try. Her breasts rubbed against the sheet, making her nipples stiff and tingly. She flattened her hand on the bed and gripped the mattress with her fingertips as though she could somehow hold on to the planet, but it was no use. He sent her flying. He angled his cock inside her just right so he hit some spot she hadn't felt before, and she nearly flew off the bed.

She couldn't even scream because she couldn't breathe as the waves of release pulsed through her body, leaving her destroyed and so, so happy.

He came a few moments later, grunting out his own release. When he was sated, instead of pulling out of her, he gently rolled her more onto her side, tucked her in against him, and kept his cock buried deep. "Mine," he whispered.

"Yours," she murmured back breathily.

Roselia was insatiable. So was Stefano. For the next three days, they barely got dressed. They sometimes wandered to the kitchen in search of food, but Stefano had stopped caring about putting shorts on and covering himself in front of her. He never handed her clothes, either. Not even a shirt.

It was nothing like the nudity she'd experienced at Master J's house. She was on display for only one man, and he not only looked at her with heated eyes, but he frequently gave her exactly what she craved.

Against the wall, in the shower, over the back of the couch, on the counter, plastered to the back windows, and every other surface of the cabin.

Roselia never stopped smiling. She would nap and then find herself riding him or on all fours while he took her from behind. When she got sore, he lowered them into the bathtub, and they soaked in Epson salts.

At some point, Stefano had needed to pay more money for the cabin, so he'd put it in an envelope, and the owner had come by and picked it up off the porch.

It was still dark outside when Roselia awoke the following morning to find herself alone in the bed. She rolled over. The lights were on in the kitchen, so she rose to go in search of Stefano. It was chilly in the room, so she pulled on a T-shirt, grabbed the throw blanket off the end of the bed, and padded toward the kitchen.

As soon as she stepped into the main room, she froze. Something was off, something terribly wrong. The vibe in the room was filled with tension and frustration, radiating off Stefano in waves.

He hadn't even seen her enter, which was not like him at all. He was usually extremely in tune with her location, but this time, he was not.

Stefano's laptop was open on the kitchen table, and he was pacing back and forth in front of it, glancing at it now and then. His hands were on his head, nearly pulling his hair out. He'd put on a pair of low-riding jeans but nothing else, so his body was sexy as usual, but he was not himself.

Roselia swallowed and remained very still, not daring to breathe. Instinctively, she knew everything was about to change. Something terrible had happened, and her perfect bubble with Stefano was about to blow up. It was palpable in the air.

She figured the longer she stood there silently, the longer she could put off the inevitable volcanic eruption.

"Fuck," Stefano uttered, making her flinch. He must have seen her movement because he jerked his head in her direction. His mouth was a tight line, and his eyes spoke of horror. Whatever had happened was devastating, and she knew it involved her.

Had Master J found her somehow? That didn't seem logical since Stefano would have packed her into the car and gotten the fuck out of there if he'd gotten a single inkling that they'd been found.

He lowered himself onto a chair, set his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head.

Heart pounding, she dropped the blanket and slowly approached. "What happened?" she finally managed to say, though what she really wanted was to rewind to a few hours ago and not let him get out of bed to face whatever demon was consuming him.

When she reached him, he sat up straighter, pulled her between his legs, and sat her on his thigh. He wrapped his arms around her and held her so tightly she could hardly breathe for a moment.

"I love you, Roselia."

A chill raced down her spine. She looked at the computer screen, thinking it might have answers he was unable to articulate. There were strange boxes on the screen. Groups of six. It looked like he'd taken screenshots of them. Like short text messages. The one in the top left corner read:

Are you still there?

Any updates?

It's been five days.

You're MIA.

We won't stop.

Must find Lily.

Her heart raced. What was this? It was clearly about her, but she couldn't make sense of it. Who was looking for her? She shifted her gaze to the screenshot to the right of that one.

Please check in.

We're worried.

Compromised?

Need an update.

Don't give up.

Lily must be found.

Her blood ran cold as she shifted her attention to the bottom set of boxes. They were not screenshots. They were live. Each box said the same thing until she reached the bottom one.

Property of Roberto Moretti

Property of Roberto Moretti

Property of Roberto Moretti

Property of Roberto Moretti

Property of Roberto Moretti

Property of Stefano Bianchi

Roselia gasped. The cursor was still flashing over that last line. He hadn't sent it yet. He was waiting. He was stressing.

"I don't understand," she whispered. "What does it mean? Property of Stefano Bianchi? Who? Me? And who is Roberto Moretti?" She grabbed his face and lifted it. "Talk to me. You're scaring me."

His expression was devastated but resolute. He stared at her, but he was not seeing her. His chest was rising and falling as though he'd run ten miles. "There's so much I haven't told you, Rose."

She stared at him, waiting.

"I wanted to. I…" He licked his lips and looked down as if embarrassed. "I should have… Fuck, there's a lot of things I should've done. I made mistakes—a lot of them. But I can't keep hiding. It's eating me up. I have to turn myself in and…"

"No," she shouted, shaking her head. She grabbed his face and tried to get him to look at her. Tears ran down her cheeks. "No. No, no, no." She shook her head over and over. "You promised. You promised you would never leave me. You promised!"

She was shaking so badly. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she could feel her life falling apart like sand falling through a sieve. There was no way to stop it. No way to catch the pieces and put them back in.

He held her tighter. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't. Don't say you're sorry. Whatever this is, we'll deal with it together. We can go somewhere else. We can leave here. If we're out of money, we can get jobs. We can change our names. Don't…" She was sobbing now. Her heart hurt.

Stefano pushed the laptop into the center of the table, grabbed her around the waist, and sat her on the edge. He kept his hands on her hips. "Look at me, sweetheart."

She shook her head. If she didn't look… Tears fell. She didn't even know what was happening, but she knew she wasn't going to like it. "Please…" she begged.

"If there were any other way… You know I would move heaven and earth to protect you. I'd do anything for you. Running will not protect you. The only way I can ensure you're safe is to turn myself in and face the consequences."

"For what?" she wailed. "No. Don't tell me what you did. I don't want to know. I want you to stay with me. I don't care what you did."

"If it were just about me, I would run with you, Rose, and never look back. I have the money. We could move every two weeks for the rest of our lives. We could change our names and alter our appearances. We could go to France, Germany, Italy. See the world."

"Yes," she sobbed. "Let's do that. Let's just go."

He gripped her hips. "And let this happen again to six more girls? And six after that? And then six more?"

She gasped, blinking at him. She could hear her heart beating in the silence of the room. "How can you stop it?" she asked, silent tears streaming down her face.

"Because I know everything, sweetheart. Because I know everything."

She couldn't catch her breath. "How?"

He dropped his forehead against her thighs and took deep breaths on her lap. She slid her hands into his hair and held on to his head. "Please don't leave me," she begged.

She needed more information. As badly as she didn't want to hear it, the only way she could reason with him and convince him not to do anything drastic was if she knew what was happening.

She glanced at the computer screen and twisted her neck. The cursor was still flashing, and the last message had not been sent yet. "What does all this mean, Stefano?"

He lifted his head and met her gaze. He looked so broken. Sorry. Devastated.

He took a deep breath. "You know that tattoo on your inner thigh?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"I assume Master J put it there?"

"Yes. Well, not him, but someone else. I was blindfolded. Several men held me down. I nearly died of a heart attack because I had no idea what they were doing to me. It felt like they were removing my leg."

He gripped her hips again. "I'm so sorry. I'm pretty sure there is a chip under that tattoo."

She flinched. "What kind of chip?"

"The kind you put in dogs with information so they can be returned to their owner if they get lost."

She stared, confused.

"I think the tattoo was a coverup, so you wouldn't realize you'd been chipped."

"Why?" Her head was spinning. She looked at the computer again, realization dawning. "There are six boxes. One for each of us?"

"Yes."

"Master J made these?"

"No." His breath hitched. "I did."

Her eyes bugged out. Her lips parted, but she couldn't think what to say.

"Master J is not the ringleader in this operation. He was a pawn. His name is Jovani Russo—and he was arrested three months ago. He's in prison."

She shuddered. She had a thousand more questions than she'd had before. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed and lifted one hand to rub his forehead. "Because I wanted you to myself. I wanted to take you away and never look back."

"You wanted me to be scared, so I would always be looking over my shoulder?" Stunned, she jerked back a few inches.

"No. Never. I would have told you that Master J had been caught, eventually, but that wouldn't have changed anything. He's not the man you're running from. He's not the man who sold you for a million dollars. He was a middleman. He didn't even know who he was working for."

Her whole body seized as she put the pieces together. "It was Santo."

He nodded, the blood draining from his face. "Yes."

"How long have you known?"

"Since you went missing, and he lied to me and told me you'd quit. That's when I started digging into his private side business, looking for proof he was selling humans."

"Why didn't you do something? Why didn't you call the police or the FBI or whoever gets called for human trafficking?"

He scooted closer, looking at her directly. "Rose, if I had thought that would do any good, I would've done so. But I knew there was a good chance you would be gone from me forever if I alerted anyone about what I knew. Three months after you disappeared, Santo asked me to create those chips. I had no idea what they were for at the time, but I did some research on Roberto Moretti. I figured out who he was and what his connection to Santo was—but that's not important. What's important was I knew those chips were somehow connected to your disappearance. I had already been looking for you. With the chips created, I suspected one of them would go into your body. There were six chips, so I guessed there were six women. I suspected something was about to change. And I was right. After the chips were inserted, you were sold to Vanderbilt. I hoped I could find you through the chip somehow. I searched day and night. I wasn't about to stop until I found you. And I didn't need to call the FBI. They already knew."

"How?"

"You're the last woman to be found, Rose," he admitted.

She gasped. "All of the others have been rescued?"

"Yes." He cringed. "I hated keeping that from you. I lost my mind when you called me. All I cared about was getting you back, helping you heal, making you mine. I couldn't stand the idea of anything ever happening to you. I still can't. But I've been lying to myself and to you. I have to let the FBI know I have you. I have to take you in. I have to turn myself in for the things I've done."

"You didn't traffic women," she pointed out.

"No, I did not. My crimes go back eighteen years, Rose. Way before anyone was sold by Santo. I had no idea he was selling women, and to be honest, if I had found out, I might not have done anything about it because I was in a singular frame of mind. The only reason I got sidetracked was because of you. I was in love with you. It hadn't been in my long-term plans, but it happened anyway. The fact that Santo didn't realize that, because I hid it so well, was his downfall. I was working for him for one reason only. Revenge. My intent for the last fifteen years has been to destroy him. Then he sold my girl, and I stopped caring about ruining his fortune. All I cared about was finding you. It was an addiction."

"And then I called you."

"Yes, and I went into survival mode. I only cared about holding you, looking at you, reminding myself you were safe in my arms. I didn't mean for us to have sex so soon. I would've waited a lifetime or never if that's what you had needed. It was enough just to have you back. I only wanted to fix you and keep you safe."

"You did, Stefano. I'm right here. I'm safe. I'll heal. Eventually, I'll be able to go outside and restart my life. I won't be the same, but I'll be a new version of me."

"And I'll love whatever version of you I can get. But I have to take you to the others. I have to tell the FBI what I've done."

"Why?" More tears fell. "You said it was eighteen years ago? Who will care?"

"The FBI will care as soon as I hit send on that last communication."