your slave?” he asks with a humorless grunt. I know to him she'd be seen as a slave, as a pet. That’s fine. To me, she’d be mine. Nothing else but mine.
“Better than death with no escape,” I respond flatly.
He takes a sip of Jack, looks at me, and says, “It may not be to her. You want to hurt her and abuse her, rather than carrying out an order that would give her a quick death.”
“No. I don’t want that. It’s not like that.” He doesn’t fucking get it. I torture and kill people for a living. I can see how he thinks that’s what I’d do to her. But I wouldn’t. I don’t know how much I should explain. To be honest, I don’t fucking feel like explaining anything.
My blood heats with anger, but then I have a pang of worry and think, What if she doesn’t get it either? I brush my doubt aside. I’ll show her. I’ll have to teach her how perfect it would be to be mine. I’ve looked into her. I’ve been obsessed with learning everything about her. She’s smart. She’ll learn. She’ll catch on quick that I’ll be a good master to her. And she’s familiar with the concepts. She’s read enough to have an idea of what I want from her. “Think of it as hardcore BDSM,” I say. I look at him from the corner of my eye, but it’s not convincing him.
I want this too fucking badly to let this opportunity pass me by. And after thinking about all the ways she'd calm the beast in me, I don't know if I could actually go through with killing her.
Vince shakes his head and asks, “What are you looking to get from me, Anthony?”
“I want your permission to offer them a deal for her.” I need my proposal presented to the Cassano boss. He’s the one who ordered the hit. A number of other bosses come to us for hits, and we take care of their messes. For the right price, anyway. I don’t want to piss anyone off, and I want this to be a clean deal. Vince is quiet for a long time as he considers.
“You won’t hurt her?” he finally asks.
“I won’t. It’s about something else for me.” Control. Desire. Submission. I want it all from her, but not her pain.
He nods his head once and I take that as an agreement. I can’t help that an asymmetric smile grows on my face. Step one is done. Now to contact the other mob head. He’ll be easy to convince, I’m sure. He didn’t give a fuck about the soldiers she gave up. He cares about the deal he lost, and the money that went with it.
I down the rest of my beer and nod a goodbye to Vince. I don’t have anything else to say to him. I’d rather he forget this conversation ever happened.
As I turn to leave, eager to clear out the cell I've prepared for her and put the finishing touches in her room, he turns in his seat and grabs my arm to stop me.
“What are you going to do if she chooses death?” he asks as I turn to face him. The idea of her dying makes my heart stop in my chest.
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” Chills run down my body at the thought of those beautiful eyes staring into mine, begging me for death. That’s not what I want. I know she’ll want this when I show her how good it can be.
“It might,” he says, looking at me with sympathy in his eyes. I don’t want his sympathy.
She’s going to fucking love what I do to her. But I’ll have to break her first.
Catherine
3 weeks later
I tip the edge of the porcelain cup to my lips and close my eyes as the perfect temperature of tea spills into my mouth. My eyes close and the comfort of routine washes through me. But the feeling is only temporary. That’s when I register the change. Something feels off. I remember thinking that earlier as well. It’s too quiet. Crickets and other creatures of the night always provide soothing background noise for my evening tea. But tonight the noises are muted. It's as though something’s scared them away.
I always drink chamomile tea to help me relax and sleep. My normal routine is to sit on the porch while I finish a cup, followed by a melatonin pill. I’ve had issues falling