split in my lip. I can forget that I’ve been kidnapped and held prisoner.
“She tried escaping, boss. We had to stop her. Maybe if she didn’t try and claw our fucking eyes out, she wouldn’t look like she does,” the other man starts, but Luca cuts him off by clearing his throat, as if he knows better than to disobey.
“It won’t happen again, boss. We just wanted to have a little fun. Clearly, we made a mistake. We’ll put her back in her cell and lock it up.”
My body stiffens at his words, and my fingers clutch Ivan’s shirt. Please say no. I beg in my head like a prayer. If he gives me to them, I’m going to run. I’m going to run as fast and hard as I can.
“I’ll take her back myself and if I see you two around her cell again... I’ll kill you both. We don’t touch the merchandise. If you want to fuck something, go to the whorehouse,” he warns them.
“Of course, boss,” they both mumble and when I hear their feet pounding against the floor, going in the opposite direction of where we’re standing, I sigh. I cling to the man before me, my fingers refusing to let go of him.
A whimper escapes my lips when he pries my fingers from his shirt and lifts me into the air, holding me like a groom holds his bride... like I weigh nothing at all. I probably don’t, considering his size. I briefly catch a glimpse of a large tattoo on the side of his neck before I lower my face so he can’t look at it.
He cradles me to his chest like I’m a small child. His skin feels so warm against mine, and I want to sink deep inside him and stay there forever. I twist and burrow my face into his chest. I remember then that I’m completely naked, other than my panties. I’ve never been naked in front of a man before, and now I’ve been naked in front of three all in one night.
“Please, don’t put me back in that room,” I murmur into his shirt. He doesn’t respond or stop walking in the direction I just came from. He just continues walking as if he didn’t hear me at all. With every step he takes, I lose a little more hope that I’m ever going to get out of here.
2
Ivan
Her blue eyes pierced through my heart like a dull butter knife. I’m so fucking angry right now. More than angry, actually, and I don’t understand the emotions I’m feeling.
I carry her small body back into the cell. With her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, she is holding on to me as if her life depends upon it. I glance down at her, but her face is buried into my chest. She is crying, sobbing, her whole body shaking with the force of her tears, and I can’t get her stupid pleas out of my head. She’s stupid, so stupid. Without knowing who I am, she begs me to help her, like I’m some kind of fucking hero. She has no fucking idea how wrong she is. I’m just as bad as those assholes who bruised up her face and tried to have their way with her.
Still, hearing the desperation in her voice, seeing how scared she, feeling her cling to me like I’m the only one who can save her gives me an ounce of hope that maybe there is some good left inside of me, when I thought all of it had been snuffed out a long time ago. I saved her, protected her, and that does something to me, even I don’t want to acknowledge it.
Typically, I don’t deal with this part of the business. Mainly because I don’t like how they treat the women. It doesn’t get me off to see women sexually abused or beaten, so I try to ignore this part of the job and leave my men to deal with this shit. Which makes me no better than them. Yeah, I might not hurt the women, but I don’t do anything to stop it either. I knew she was here, of course, I’d gotten her file thrown on my desk the second she was brought in to be processed, but I’d never seen her, besides the small picture of her driver’s license, not until now. Most of the women here never saw me, the man who made sure the entire