Mistress to a Monster

Chapter One

Three years later

Milah spun around in a circle, taking in the grandeur of her surroundings. Her shirt was torn, exposing one shoulder along with her bra strap. Her hair had been pulled from the confines of her bun. Her jeans were still intact, but now there were tear marks where she’d been roughly kidnapped.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the sudden fear. There was no reason to be irrational. She didn’t like the look of the house. It already screamed money. Being taken someplace that looked wealthy wasn’t a good sign as far as she was concerned.

Gripping the back of her neck, she tried not to think too hard. This wasn’t good. None of this was.

Her guards hadn’t put up any fight either. She hadn’t been able to find a means of escape from the Russo empire in the past three years. Every time she tried to find one possible avenue, her father thwarted it.

Either by stopping her from going away to college, or constantly having guards at her side. Her mother had warned her more than once that if her father saw her as a feasible income, or a means to get what he wanted, he’d use her.

Had that time come?

Had his enemies figured out who she was?

Her coming-of-age party had been a huge problem. Up until that point, no one knew who she was, or what she meant to Russo. It was like she didn’t exist, but since then, all had known what she looked like and now there was no getting away from it.

There was a bed against the far wall, looking as imposing as ever. There was no way she was going to sit on it.

She stayed perfectly still and kept her gaze on the door, which was locked. That was the first thing she tried, to see if there was any chance of escape.

There wasn’t.

Even trying to flee from the window was useless. It was far too high, and the windows were locked. The only way she’d be able to escape through them was if she had a rock or something to break the glass. That would only alert her captors to her intention of escaping.

No matter where she looked, there was nothing she could do.

Absolutely nothing.

The large, imposing bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. Only one door. There wasn’t even a closet or any drawers. Nothing. She’d already tried to look under the bed, and nothing was there.

This was impossible.

She wasn’t going to beg or cause a scene. A Russo never did any such thing. She was highly embarrassed that even after all of her training, she hadn’t been able to stop the men from taking her.

Milah had to wonder if her mother would be ashamed if she could see her now. She shook her head, refusing to think of that. She couldn’t.

Right now, all she could do was attempt to survive.

That was it.

Hands clenched into fists, she tried not to think. Panicking wouldn’t get her out of here, but being in control and collected just might. It was a long shot. She was aware of that, but it was a shot she was more than willing to take.

Shock raced down her spine as soon as she heard the lock flick open. Three men rushed into the room. None of them attempted to hide their identities. All of them charged toward her, and she attempted to fight them off, punching one, kicking another, but it was the third one who wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her off her feet.

He placed her over his shoulder, and she screamed at him to let her go, landing blows against his ass, trying to get him to stop, even attempting to kick him.

She wanted to get out of here, to be let down.

Nothing helped.

They left the room, and Milah tried to watch every single footstep so she would be able to figure out an escape.

This was what happened when her father’s thirst for blood was far stronger than his love for his daughter.

Tears began to fill her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She squeezed them closed. There was no way she’d ever show weakness. Not to her captor. Not to these men. Certainly not to her father.

She had long ago stopped crying. No man deserved her tears.

The men came to a stop, and she was suddenly dumped unceremoniously onto the floor like she was nothing. They stepped back, and Milah opened her eyes to see several men. Some of whom she recognized as her father’s men. Several she did not, but she did notice the De Luca mark. Then spinning around on the floor, she came to a stop when she saw her beaten father and Damon De Luca himself, standing there looking victorious.

What the fuck had happened?