The Devil's Plaything - Page 19

He’s handsome.

He’s violent.

He’s evil.

And I realize in that moment, I’ve become the Devil’s Plaything. The moment he looked into my eyes I knew I was fucked. I’m not sure how such evil can be so beautiful, but he’s the walking conjuncture of the two. As a child, I learned that bad things weren’t nice, they weren’t pretty, but he certainly breaks the mold.

He had venom on his tongue as he spoke, and I know what he has in store for me. He wants me in his bed, but that’s not something I am willing to give him, but I’m certain that he’ll take it anyway. He isn’t a man who asks, he commands, and he’s going to attempt to steal my soul before he robs me of my life.

I think back to the store, when Victor walked in to ask for my boss. I didn’t know who he was in that moment, and I found myself attracted to him. Now, I know his name, and I hate him all the more.

Can a name change so much of a person?

Can his reputation be as dark as people say?

Yes. Yes, to both questions.

Shaking my head, I settle on the small blanket that sits in the corner of the cell. Pulling my knees up to my chin, I wrap my arms around my legs and close my eyes. But each time I do, it’s only him I see.

It was my choice to come back, to allow the man in the SUV to bring me to Victor so I could bargain with him. To save my father, I’ve given myself over to the most dangerous man in Colombia, and there’s nothing I can do to change it now. He owns me. I’m his toy, and I know he’ll do anything to make sure I obey.

I can’t believe papá did it. He stole from one of the most ruthless men in our country, and he knew what he was doing. He did it for me, but it doesn’t make it right. I never wanted him to become a thief to save me.

In an attempt to calm my sadness and frustration, I rock side to side gently, singing something that I recall from the store. The lyrics that leave my lips are merely a whisper, but I close my eyes and get lost in them for a moment, because it’s the only solace I have right now because being a prisoner is gently chipping away at me.

Strangely, in this darkness, I feel safe, even if it’s just for this moment. There’s no guarantee he will listen to my pleas, and any promises made by Satan himself cannot be trusted. But deep down, I pray that Victor will allow me to plead my father’s case and give him the leniency that I think he deserves.

Punishment comes after a crime, it’s how the world works, but I need to save my father, and if I’m the payment that Victor wants, then I’ll gladly sacrifice myself. Perhaps I can make him see that I could be an asset to him, rather than him killing me and making a spectacle of it.

He could’ve walked down here and slit my throat for what papá did. But he didn’t, he told me I’d be his toy. Whatever that involves, I’ll bear it, as long as he keeps his promise and lets my father leave, without hurting him even more.

And, once my payment is up, I get to leave as well.

I lean to the side, curling into a ball; I breathe in and out, attempting to calm my heart rate while I attempt to think my way out of the situation that I now find myself in. All my life, I’ve been taught to keep my family close, but this time, I’m going to need to keep my enemy even closer.

My father taught me to be intelligent, to watch people’s actions and listen to their words. When you’re observant, you can pick out their weaknesses and use them to your advantage. And I know that’s what I have to do with Victor; I need to find out what makes him weak.

A screech tears from my throat when I open my eyes to see a man hovering over me. He doesn’t move, merely stares down at me as if I were on display, and he was a paying client. Those gold eyes are glimmering with amusement at my fear, and I recognize the smirk that tilts his full lips.

“You’re rather skittish, Sofía,” he tells me, before taking a step back to observe me from farther away. Even though he’s no longer leaning over me, his presence is like a force of nature. It’s almost as if he’s holding me down on the small bed.

“Where is my father?” The words tumble free before I can ask about when he’s letting me out of this fucking box that I’ve been holed up in.

Tags: Dani Rene Erotic
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