Foxy In Lingerie (Lingerie 10)

But I didn’t intend to wait that long. I would find an escape route before that—somehow.

I just had to learn about Carter, to find out as much information as possible about my opponent. Other than his name and the fact that he wasn’t cruel like Egor, I knew very little about him. “Hey!” I yelled loudly, wanting to make sure he heard me from wherever he was. I hadn’t explored the rest of the house, so I had no idea what it looked like. I wasn’t even sure if I was on the second floor or the third. All I knew, based on looking out the window, was we were in the middle of nowhere—without a house in sight.

Footsteps grew louder, starting on the wooden staircase. He came closer, his footfalls sounding heavier with his approach. He wasn’t a big man. On the slender side, he had narrow hips and ripped arms. His physique was comprised of prominent muscles and flawless skin. Just like before, he stepped into the bedroom shirtless.

I knew it was summertime, but the air conditioning was on full blast. “Do you ever wear a shirt?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway, his eyebrows raised in amusement, not annoyance. “Not when I have a woman tied to my bed.” He cocked his head slightly, enjoying the subtle threat.

My heart pounded a little harder, but I did my best to hide it. “I’ve been chained up in this room for over two weeks now.”

“And…?” He rubbed his hand along his jaw. It was free of hair, so it seemed like he’d just shaved. “Am I supposed to care about that?”

“I would hope so. You spent a lot of money on your new toy, but you don’t take good care of it.”

He pressed his lips tightly together as he tried to hide his smile. “You have shelter, a toilet, and food. During medieval times, these amenities would be considered luxurious.”

Now it was my turn to cock an eyebrow. “Well, this isn’t ancient times, and there’s the Geneva Convention about prisoners of war. And this treatment isn’t up to par with those regulations.”

“You think those rules apply to me?” he asked with a laugh. “You aren’t a prisoner of war. You’re a hot commodity, a beautiful woman I bought for my own entertainment. I can leave you in here for a year if I want. I can let you starve to death. Doesn’t matter—because I own you.”

I would give anything to be able to break these chains and strangle this man. Egor reminded me that he owned me every single day, and now this man was repeating those disgusting words. I was tired of being owned, tired of being treated like second best. For every woman who’d ever felt powerless in this world, I had to do something about it. Instead of years of abuse breaking me down and making me give up, it invigorated a fight within me. I wasn’t going to stop until I was free.

Because I had something to live for.

His smile slowly started to fade. “Pissed you off, didn’t I?”

I brushed off the comment. “Take these chains off. You can’t keep me like this forever.”

“You bet I can.”

“If you plan to keep me forever, this doesn’t make any sense. And I saw the bandage you put on my ankle. What the hell did you put inside me?” If it was a birth control device, it was totally pointless. I didn’t need one.

“A tracker.”

“Then what do you need the chains for?”

“So you won’t pull another stunt like you did in the car. And if you sit there and tell me you won’t, you know I’ll never believe you. I admire your fire, but I don’t admire your stupidity. I underestimated you once, but I definitely won’t underestimate you again. Now it’s your turn not to underestimate me.” He turned around and walked out of the room.

I didn’t want to sit there for another two weeks with these chains around my ankles. I used to be locked in a hole in the pure darkness for days at a time. This was nowhere near that, but I still didn’t like it. “Wait.”

To my surprise, he actually turned around. “What?”

“If you don’t underestimate me, then you should no problem letting me walk around the house.”

He smiled again, in amusement. “The rest of the house is my turf. I have no interest in sharing it with you.” This time, he shut the door when he walked out.

Damn.

Some middle-aged man I’d never seen before brought my meals to me. He seemed to speak only Italian, so I couldn’t communicate with him at all. Days passed, and I wasn’t giving the opportunity to shower. I was starting to get restless, needing to do something other than sit all day.