Mistress to a Monster

Milah turned to Glory. “Please, stay here. Take care of her. I need to go and check.”

“You don’t even know where they are,” Glory said.

“I have to try.”

She wasn’t acting like a Russo. Damon followed her as she rushed out of the bedroom. Some of his men stepped forward as if to intervene, but he gave them a warning to stop.

He wanted to see this side of Milah. The one that wasn’t guarded. The one intent on saving animals.

This was so … odd.

He saw her hands shaking as she grabbed her jacket and then rushed through his home. Damon followed, taking a jacket from one of his guards and sliding it on as he followed her.

She took off, and he had no choice but to chase after her. His guards were on high alert. He had ordered them to be so for two reasons. One, there was a traitor amongst them. Two, he hoped by having them on high alert, the traitor would make a mistake.

Milah stopped and panted for breath. “This is where we found her.”

There was nothing else around.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and listened.

There was no sound. Seconds passed.

“They are not here.”

“You heard the vet. They have to be.”

“Why is this so important to you?”

“Because … they have done nothing wrong.”

“And so you keep saying,” Damon said.

“Why does there have to be a reason for doing something good and kind? Why can’t you see that I care? Why does it have to matter?”

“You’re a Russo!”

She screamed. “Enough with that. I get it. My father is a Russo. That makes me one as well, but guess what, that doesn’t mean I’m like him. I have my mother’s blood running in my veins as well. It might be a hell of a lot stronger than his. Have you thought about that?” she asked. “Have you thought that I might be innocent? That I might not follow in his plan of death?” She growled and stomped her foot. “What is the point? You two are exactly alike.”

“I am nothing like that scum!”

“No?” she asked, rounding on him. “You keep women that you stole off the street. The ones who won’t make a decent price are kept here to serve you, but you delude yourself in thinking you’re giving them a good life.”

“I am giving them a good life.”

“What about freedom?” Milah asked. “What about the right to come and go as they please? To think of owning a house one day? Of having a family?”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Go ahead, laugh at my stupid thoughts. It’s just women, right? What could women want other than to have a man between their legs? To serve men and to never think of owning property. And you think you’re not like my father. The De Lucas and the Russos are all the same.”

He didn’t like her attitude.

“Do you want to hit me?” she asked. “Another comparison point right there. Do you think I don’t see it? You both use fear and manipulation. You would make the perfect couple. It’s a shame you’re so intent on killing each other.”

“I am nothing like your father.”

She took a step toward him and glared. “Prove it.”

He was about to say something else, but they both froze as whimpering filled the air. There was no mistaking the sounds of dogs.

Milah didn’t wait to finish their conversation. She took off. They came across a small log that was hollowed out, and sure enough, six tiny pups, and one distressed-looking mother, funnily enough, a Labrador, was inside.

“Hey, sweet girl,” Milah said. “You’re missing one of your pups. Don’t worry. Don’t be afraid.”

A growl sounded, and Damon grabbed his gun, ready to kill if it so much as attacked Milah.

She had infuriated him, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to die.