Mistress to a Monster

There it was.

“I won’t sleep with you.”

“Did I say sleep?”

“I won’t … have sex with you.”

He chuckled. “Like I said before, Milah, when I fuck you, you’ll be begging me for it.”

She hated him.

Cooking was a nice distraction from her current situation. From the moment she’d been taken, she had expected the worst. For him to rape her, to hurt her. He’d hurt her, not by his own hands, but by those that served him.

“Then I agree,” she said. She had no intention of begging him for sex.

They were enemies. Sex would never happen between them. He would beg her before she ever allowed that to happen.

Damon smiled. “I look forward to it.”

She got to her feet, reaching for the dishes.

“I have staff who do that. Go and get washed. You owe me tonight.”

She clenched her hands into fists. His staff wouldn’t be happy with her being in the kitchen. She wasn’t going to overstay her welcome. The chef looked ready to kill her with his butcher’s knife. She wasn’t a fool.

The people here were her enemy. Even Glory. She didn’t know why the young maid had offered to stay with her, or why she’d seemed friendly.

She wasn’t going to let her guard down.

This house and all the property around was her battleground. She had to do whatever it took to make it out alive.

One day, she would live as a Flynn, and the Russo name would be a thing of the past.

****

Damon waited for Milah to arrive. Glory had already given him an update on today’s progress. There was nothing to report.

This was a new friendship between the two.

He doubted Milah would trust the young maid for some time. She might share little trivial things, but for the most part, she’d be guarded, as anyone would in her situation. He couldn’t blame her.

Damon sat down on the edge of the bed. Genius hadn’t gotten back in touch, and with the snow falling, there was nothing more he could do.

He had his men on the outside dealing with all the necessary details when it came to Antonio Russo. The man’s very name was enough to make his skin crawl. Damon despised him.

From all angles, he was squeezing him for everything. The ports were already taken, along with the brothels.

He’d pushed the cartels away from Russo, as well as the MCs that were on his side. It was amazing how a change of thinking and perspective could make people change their reasoning. They had all become part of De Luca.

His father had taught him that loyalty was the most valuable asset, as well as fear. People tried to tame what they feared, or they hid from it.

Damon had built a reputation for being the monster in the De Luca empire, and they all should fear him.

There was a small knock on the door, and he called for Milah to enter. There was only one person who would knock so … hesitantly.

Milah opened the door and stepped inside.

“Close it,” he said.

She turned her back to him and closed the door. He saw her hand rest on the wood. Did he make her nervous? He hoped so.

She wore a pair of flannel pajamas he’d supplied. They gave her plenty of modesty. He doubted she would have felt comfortable coming to him in a silk and lace negligee, or an old nightshirt that she’d worn when she was sick.

“How are you?” he asked.