{KILLIAN}
The heaviness of this sweet girl's despair fills the air like an impenetrable tension as she sits in the car beside me. Her hands curl into tight fists on her bare thighs to mask how they shake. She's fucking terrified, and no matter how hard she tries to hide it from me, she can't.
I know fear when I see it. I can sniff it out in any room. I'm drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and once I have it in the palm of my hand, I corrupt it.
I've never met a person I couldn't break, and as for this innocent woman who just became mine? Well, fuck.
Breaking her might be the best fun I'll ever have.
I live and breathe off the fear I invoke. It's like an illicit drug I've become addicted to, and the moment my gaze connected with hers across the warehouse, that potent fear within her spoke right to my soul. I knew I had to have her.
I was going to make her mine, and when I set out to do something, I never fail. It's not in my blood. I'm not known for being a man who negotiates for the things I want. I take. Whether it's by contract or force, and
she is no exception to that.
It's after two in the morning, and we still have a three-hour drive ahead of us. I turn to look at my new prize, letting my gaze sail over her face. There's no denying how beautiful she is, even through there's dirt and grime stained across her slim face and the blood matted in her long golden curls. There's no telling how long she was held captive in that cage, but looking at her like this, it's clear Ezekiel and his men didn't exactly go to great lengths to take care of the women they traffic. But truth be told, the kind of men who were bidding on these women aren't the type who care if a woman appears clean or not. They care about the assets of her body, tight her cunt is, or just how loud they can make her scream agony as they fuck her until she bleeds–a fate this mysterious beauty only
narrowly escaped.
It's not as though I'm any better. I plan to fuck her. All day and night if I could, but l'm not a fucking pig like the men in that warehouse, and I will give just as eagerly as I receive.
I don't know what possessed me to claim her. I don't particularly care for having a pet, and judging by the fire in her eyes, she doesn't strike me as the type to submit willingly. But she will. I'll leave her no choice.
She's going to be work, and probably a huge pain in my ass, and despite knowing this the moment I laid eyes on her, I still claimed her. l'm painfully aware of the fact that I require an heir to inherit my legacy in the event my life shall be taken from this world, though it's still undecided whether she will be the one to bear my child.
All I know is that the moment our eyes collided across that filthy warehouse, I could sense her pure desperation. She was silently screaming for me to save her, and as those other bastards bid for what already belonged to me, I couldn't stomach the idea of watching her being gifted to another man. Don't get me wrong, had she been claimed by someone else, I would have still found her and slaughtered the pig who dared treat her as his own.
However, letting it get that far only meant I was lining the pockets of Ezekiel and his asshole employees, and taking that payday away from them was a prize I simply couldn't pass up.
Ezekiel and his men are the scum of the earth, and the second I no longer require them run my drugs, they'll be slaughtered like the animals they are. My cousin, Sergiu, insists that we keep them around, but turning a blind eye to their shit has been challenging. Considering everything they've got t their toes dipped in, its clear they're capable of keeping a tight lid on their business. But every damn time I walk in there and see it for myself, my skin crawls. If they weren't
such an integral part of my operation, I would have dealt with them long ago.
Most of the time I'm able to turn a blind eye to the traffics but something about this woman caught my attention. I usually leave Sergiu to deal with business here, but Ezekiel needed a reminder about just how disposable he really is.
The question is, what the hell am I supposed to do with her now she belongs to me?
Do I lock her in my cells to use as I see fit, or do I allow her freedom within my home?
My gaze drops down her body. The dried blood on her thigh and the fresh scratches and bruises decorating her skin are a clear indication of the mistreatment she received while in Ezekiel's clutches. The very sight of her has me wanting to teach her how to make fucking sure this bullshit never happens again. Though, I suppose there's no need for that anymore.
Not now that she belongs to me. Whether she likes it or not, my home is not a place she will ever escape.
She will live under my roof from now until her dying breath, whether that be in peace or as a prisoner.
As my gaze trails back up to her face, I find her stare already on mine. There are a million questions in her lifeless green eyes, probably wondering what happens from here.
"When was the last time you drank water?" I ask. She needs to maintain her energy if she is going to keep up with the demanding lifestyle that's about to be thrust upon her.
She visibly swallows. "I, umm... can't be sure," she says in a quiet tone. Though something tells me the moment she finds her comfort within my home, that quiet tone will morph into a fierce demand, and that's exactly what's required of a woman in my world.
I nod, and as if on cue, my driver silently hands me a bottle of water. I quickly uncap it before passing it to her.
She slowly takes it from me, but there's a strong hesitation in her eyes, wondering if she should trust me. She sips on the water anyway. Her body is far too deprived to resist.
She keeps that penetrating gaze on me, clearly not trusting me, but I don't expect her to. I'm not her savior, and I'm sure as fuck not her hero. As long as she's clear in that understanding, we'll be good.
Realizing just how long this trip home is going to be if she's incapable of relaxing. I dig into the pocket of my suit jacket and curl my hand around a small bottle of pills.
Pulling it out, I open the cap, and with every passing second, I feel her gaze like laser beams trying to penetrate right through me.
Tipping a single pill into the palm of my hand, I hold it out to her, my brow arched with expectation. Only she doesn't submit to my will, she simply looks at my hand with trepidation. She shakes her head.
"What is that?"
"Take it. It will help you relax."
"I don't need to relax."
"Take the damn pill. I will not ask you again."
She clenches her jaw, anger flashing those fearful eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid?" she questions, somehow seeming offended. "I take that pill, and in a few hours, I'll wake up to find you and your driver tag-team raping me. No thanks, I'll pass."
I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. It's one thing to have her fear me because of who I am, but it's another to have her fear me out of distrust or foolishness.
Shit like that is how men get killed.
"I do not believe you are stupid," I tell her, spitting the words with venom. "But let me get one thing straight. If I want to fuck you, which I will, I won't need to knock you out first. I will take it just as surely as those men back in that warehouse would have. However, you are in luck because, unlike those assholes, unconscious women are not my thing. What kind of man do you take me for?"
"As far as I'm concerned, you're the kind of man who purchases women who've been kidnapped and trafficked, and honestly, I think that tells me everything I need to know about the kind of man you are," she mutters, disdain clear in her tone.
Ahh. So she's just as feisty as she appears. I like that.
I wonder if she'll be quite so forward with that mouth of hers when I'm fucking it.
"You are right to question me. I am not a nice man, so believe me when I say this. If you don't take this pill in the next two seconds, I will physically force it down your throat.Take your pick." I hardened my glare on her. "Do you care to discover what it means to be on my bad side, or will you play it smart and do everything within your power to remain in my good graces?"
Her eyes flare with fire as she reaches out and finally takes the pill from my palm with a grudge. And as she places it on the end of her tongue and closes her mouth, she refuses to break eye contact. I can practically hear her screaming thoughts as they're aimed at me like venom-laced arrows, but her intimidation tactics won't work here. I appreciate her attempt though. It's rare when somebody has the balls to argue with me, and honestly, it's refreshing. Stupid, but certainly refreshing.
She lifts the bottled water to her lips, and I watch with a keen stare as she swallows the pill. It's strong and will take effect in a matter of seconds, and as the pill begins to dissolve in the pit of her stomach, her brows furrow, no doubt already feeling the drowsiness.
She holds my gaze, confusion flashing in those green eyes. "What's happening?" she asks, her body steadily growing heavier. "What What is this? What did you give me?"
"Rest your pretty head, Sweet Angel," I murmur. "It's a long drive."
And just like that, she's out cold...