Once again, shocking the men as she shoved them out of the way, she ran as fast as she could.
She’d never been the person to wear heels, always preferring sneakers and flats. Milah ran as fast as she could, hearing De Luca’s men following behind her, but she had to get away. She didn’t have time to take in her surroundings, and it wasn’t too long before she was thrown to the ground, and a large body covered her.
No one said a word even as she kept on fighting, wanting to get away. Begging to be free. To fight. Hoping someone would take pity on her and let her go. Who would dare to betray De Luca?
In all her years of eavesdropping, she had never once heard of one of his men running away. Not a single one.
What kind of man instilled that kind of loyalty? She didn’t know who it was, nor did she want to.
She was once again off her feet and being carried back toward the house. Again, she didn’t get the chance to look at her surroundings as she was taken to a room. This time, she 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.”
She spun around to face her captor, prepared to yell at him, but he was already gone.
Of course he was.
She moved to the edge of the bed and rested her palms on her knees, taking a deep breath. Wearing herself out wasn’t part of the plan. Not that she had any great ideas for escaping. She was stuck.
Getting to her feet, she assessed the room. This one had a large bed, like the last, but this time, she recognized the luxury silk sheets. A couple of cupboards were on either side, and she went to them, opening the three drawers in each, finding nothing. There wasn’t a lamp, and she touched the top of each surface, wondering if a lamp had been there. She 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, she opened to see it was an empty closet. Again, she 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?
****
Damon smiled as he watched Milah look around the room for something to fight with. The guards who’d dealt with her had already warned him that she knew how to fight. She wasn’t as trained as his men, but she would cause some serious injury to others if given the chance.
He knew she’d be a wildcat. That night at her coming-of-age party, he’d snuck in to finally get a look at the precious daughter Russo had been hiding. Damon wasn’t disappointed by the woman he’d found. Then, when she was eighteen, she’d been too young for his taste. At thirty years old, he liked his women to be of age and not just on the fine border of being legal.
That one encounter had stayed with him, and for the past three years, he’d watched Milah Russo. She was nothing like her father, nor of the rest of the Russo line. For one, she showed compassion. He’d watched her with stray animals she’d found, along with people she helped, even if it was down to aiding an elderly lady walk across the street. His men captured it.
Milah wasn’t cold or dead. She was full of passion and fire.
He saw it in the way she fought. Even now, she kept testing everything. His men had told her to take a shower, but she was looking for a means to protect herself. What she didn’t seem to know was that her body would keep her safe.
Damon had known Russo would fuck up. The man’s thirst for power and blood made him greedy. It made him believe he was untouchable, but one mistake after another this past year had brought them to this moment. To where he’d been the one to point a blade at his throat, rather than a gun. There was nothing satisfying about shooting a man. Nearly all of Russo’s wealth was gone. Used up on women, drugs, gambling, and just being a bad businessman. Russo thought he was untouchable, and he had never been more wrong. The only wealth the Russo name had was owned by Milah. Her mother’s trust fund that had been placed in holding until Milah fulfilled the terms set out to get it—a small fortune. Enough to make Milah a target for men, and certainly for her father who would want to marry her off.
That was what put Milah in harm’s way. Her father had started to hunt for a husband for her. Someone he could control and manipulate. He’d wanted his daughter’s money.
From what his sources told him, she had no idea she had a small fortune.
Damon watched as Milah stripped out of her clothes and turned the shower on. She kept her panties and bra on, not that he blamed her. She held her hand beneath the water, waiting for it to warm up.
She kept on glancing around, at one point even looking into one of the cameras he had installed.
He’d started preparing this room three years ago. From the moment he met, his intention was to take her.
Damon was known for his patience. What he wanted, he always got. And when it came to Milah, he wanted her. Not for her wealth, but to tame that wildcat.
He despised the Russos and everything they stood for, but Milah was different. Damon had taken his time. Done his research and knew she was not like her father. She was unique, and that quality was to be rewarded.
It was why he’d attacked Russo. Why when his blade was to his throat, and he was more than happy to strike the killing blow, he’d waited to see what Russo would give up to save his own life.
He was shocked when Milah’s name came up.
Why would he be? The man was a coward, only interested in his own ends.
He despised that in men. Was sickened by it.
Russo would die soon enough, but first, Damon intended to take every single piece of Russo land and business. To kill all his men and make him drown in his own misery. He was going to break and destroy that man, piece by piece.
First, he was going to work on Milah.
She would belong to him.
The day would soon come when he would show her father what he’d done. How he’d gotten a Russo to fall in love with a De Luca. That would not be the only victory he anticipated. He would also knock her up, but he had no intention of marrying her.