Mistress to a sadistic beast

Several I did not, but I did notice the acient dragon mark. Then spinning around on the floor, I came to a stop when I saw her beaten father and Killian De Luca himself, standing there looking victorious.

What the fuck had happened?

Staring at my father now, I had to wonder what had happened because he didn’t look happy. In fact, he was bleeding, and seeing him like this, he appeared broken. His men didn’t have their weapons either. Only the Italians was heavily armed.

My stomach started to twist and turn.

I didn’t speak for fear of how I'd sound. Instead, I looked at the two men and waited.

“Will you tell her, nikkah? Or should I?”

My father wouldn’t even glance at me. I'd never seen him like this. In all the years I was growing up, he was a commanding presence in my life. Someone who had always been in control, who never looked anyone in the eye with fear.

“Dad?” I asked, needing him to acknowledge my presence.

Killian de Luca didn’t look my way. Instead, he chuckled. Then he finally looked at me, but I didn’t want to return his gaze. Something had gone badly wrong.

One quick glance at him, another at my father, and nothing.

“You will be going with Killian De Luca now, maria.”

“What?” I asked.

“You belong to him.”

I shook my head. “No, that cannot be.”

“You will do as he tells you. You will not run. You will hold your head up high and be proud to be a Russian.”

This made Killian De Luca laugh even more. “Proud to be a Russian? Would you like me to tell her how you sold her? How you begged for your life?”

“Dad, please, don’t do this.”

My father had sold me to De Luca as if I meant nothing? No, it couldn’t be. I refused to believe it. “Dad, please, talk to me.”

Instead, my father stepped away from De Luca, who clicked his fingers. His men grabbed me.

“Take her to my home, in the mistress’s bedroom. I’ll be there to deal with you shortly.”

Trying to keep calm faded so fucking fast. As the men grabbed my arms to lift me, I fought them, stopping the two men with my surprise attack, but more men grabbed at me. Even as they hauled me off my feet and marched me out of the room, I screamed for my father.

Anger rushed through me. It was quick and full of bitterness. What the hell had happened?

They dumped me into the back of a truck. I slammed my hands against the side of the vehicle, trying to get out. Everything was locked.

“Damn it. Let me out.” I wasn’t going to stop. Not for a single second. My father had sold me to De Luca? How did this happen?

What could he have possibly done that was such a big giant screwup that put him at his enemy’s mercy? I wasn’t going to get any answers in the back of the truck, but I refused to go quietly.

If cops ended up following us, I'd be able to get their attention. I prayed for someone to flag them down, to bring awareness to me being kidnapped. Anything that would stop this from happening.

My hands grew sore with the constant slapping against the metal can I was being transported in. The air was stale. Tiredness started to consume me.

I needed to get out. To get free. To finally be free of being a Russian and to be my own person.

“Let me out.”

The truck suddenly came to a stop. It was so dark, and as I tried to figure out where the truck would open, the back or the side, I kept flicking my head to the front and to the right, wanting to surprise them and make an escape.

The truck opened, and I charged forward.

Once again, shocking the men as I shoved them out of the way, I ran as fast as I could.

I'd never been the person to wear heels, always preferring sneakers and flats. I ran as fast as I could, hearing De Luca’s men following behind me, but I had to get away. I didn’t have time to take in my surroundings, and it wasn’t too long before I was thrown to the ground, and a large body covered me.

No one said a word even as I kept on fighting, wanting to get away. Begging to be free. To fight. Hoping someone would take pity on me and let me go. Who would dare to betray De Luca?.

In all my years of eavesdropping, I had never once heard of one of his men running away. Not a single one.

What kind of man instilled that kind of loyalty?

I didn’t know who it was, nor did I want to. I was once again off my feet and being carried back toward the house. Again, I didn’t get the chance to look at my surroundings as I was taken to a room. This time, I was dumped on the bed.

“There’s a bathroom through there. Use it. Clean yourself up, and be warned, there is absolutely no chance of escape.”

I spun around to face my captor, prepared to yell at him, but he was already gone.

Of course he was.

I moved to the edge of the bed and rested my palms on my knees, taking a deep breath. Wearing myself out wasn’t part of the plan. Not that I had any great ideas for escaping. I was stuck.

Getting to my feet, I assessed the room. This one had a large bed, like the last, but this time, I recognized the luxury silk sheets. A couple of cupboards were on either side, and I went to them, opening the three drawers in each, finding nothing. There wasn’t a lamp, and I touched the top of each surface, wondering if a lamp had been there. I would’ve been able to smash it to use it as a weapon.

Nothing. There were three doors. One was the entrance the guard had exited from just a few moments ago. Another, I opened to see it was an empty closet. Again, I looked through the drawers, and they were all empty. Next was the bathroom. There was no mirror, and only a curtain provided cover for the shower.This room looked like it had been designed to hold a hostage.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

What kind of man did this? Was this a happy coincidence or had he planned this?