When I speak up, I try to make my voice strong and confident, but it comes out squeaky and scared instead. “I want to go back home.”
He laughs as if I’ve just told a joke, and now it’s my turn to glare at him.
“Jasper! It’s not a joke. I said I want to go home."
“What do you have in Chicago that you don’t have here?” He smooths his fingers over my cheek and I shiver involuntarily. Damn him for what he does to my unwilling body. “This is your home now, Petal. Don’t you like it?”
“No,” I reply sternly, crossing my arms and stepping aside so he can’t reach me anymore. “I want to go home. I have my cats there. And my friends. And my job. My whole life is there. I don’t want to stay in the middle of nowhere in Italy. I don’t even speak the language.”
“You can learn.” He shrugs. “It’s not like you get to see people, anyway.”
“That’s not the only thing that’s bothering me. You’re not seriously planning on keeping me here forever?”
“Oh, but I am, and you know I will. So I suggest you just stop fighting this and accept it. The sooner you do, the better off you’ll be.”
“Are you crazy? What type of person kidnaps people anymore? This isn’t the ice ages, you can’t keep me against my will and...torture me.”
“Torture you,” he muses, his lips tugging in a cruel smirk. “That’s not what you were saying last night when you begged for more. Do you want a reminder?”
“N-no.”
“Maybe I do.” He backs me up against the wall, smelling my neck like a wild animal as he possessively grabs my tits, pulling them from the flimsy nightgown. “Tell me what happened last night, Pet.”
“No,” I manage, though this time it’s soft and barely audible.
“Tell me.” His voice is controlled and smooth, but I know the calm’s the biggest before the storm.
“I begged,” I manage to get out through gritted teeth.
“And what did you beg for, Pet?”
“For you to fuck my ass.” I hate him. I want to kill him. And at the same time, I’m dripping between my legs. I cross them self-consciously as I feel the tell-tale drops of wetness slide down my thighs.
Damn you, Jas. I never get to win with you.
“You did, didn’t you?” He chuckles, painfully pinching my nipples with his strong fingers. “You wanted it so much, and it’s only been a few weeks since you got your first taste. I’d say I’ve turned you into quite the greedy anal whore. Wouldn’t you agree, Pet?”
I tremble, but I refuse to speak as he continues his assault of my tits.
“Answer me, or else.”
“I’m not greedy and I’m not a whore.”
He pinches my nipple hard and I cry out. “Stop it. I’m going home.”
“You’re going nowhere.” His voice holds a cruel finality. “You’re staying right here where I am. In your place.”
I see my chance of escape and take it, pushing him away and stumbling toward the door. Since that first night, I haven’t tried to run, but today, I will. I’m done getting lost in the fantasy.
Done being Jasper’s willing toy.
I manage to get to the door, throwing it open when he appears right behind me. Before I make it one step outside, Jasper grabs me by the arm and drags me back inside. I thrash against him, resisting him with everything I have in me.
It’s no use.
He’s way stronger and crueler and unmovable.
He throws me down on the floor, and I glare at him as I pick myself up so I’m standing toe-to-toe. Or as much toe to toe as the height difference allows.
“You’re a monster,” I say in a cold, hard voice. “I don’t know why I ever thought you could be anything else.”
He wraps a loose fist around my neck. I swallow thickly, hoping I haven’t just signed my death sentence. The air charges with unmistakable tension as he shows me his other side — the devil’s side.
“You’re calling me a monster, Pet?” Even though he’s speaking with a calm tone, shivers crawl up my spine. “Fine. I can live with that. But do you know who’s also a monster? You.”
“W-What?” I stutter, struggling to get free of his grip and failing. “What do you mean?”
“Your family.” He releases me as if he burned his fingers on my throat. “Your family is a nest of snakes.”
“You don’t know anything about my family.”
“I know more than you do.”
His words make my blood run cold, and I throw him a questioning look, waiting for him to go on. I have a feeling I won’t enjoy the punchline of whatever he’s about to say.
“I told you that you’re a mafia princess, but guess which mafia?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Jasper?”
“You’re a Costa, Petal,” he finally says. “Remember that man you met back in Chicago? He’s your uncle.”