presence, and she did ask if it was okay…”
He looked her straight in the eye, he knew where this was going.
She was pleading her case to avoid her any reprisal. He had already known when he
brought her to the house that Olga would take her under her wing. She had always
been the nurturing type, and he loved her for it. He wasn’t even sure he even knew
what love was, but what he felt for Olga was probably the closest thing. He gave her
an indulgent smile.
“Fine, let her be.”
Olga smiled at him gratefully, approvingly, and excused herself. He
ate alone, reviewing the events of the past twenty-four hours in his head. He
wondered when his mind changed. She wasn’t the first pretty girl he delivered to the
wolves. Hell, he had done far worse . What was different that time? He
surprised himself; he took a big risk for her. Maxwell was not happy about the
arrangement at all, but Maxwell was not to be worried about. Though he had gained
considerable power and prestige in the Organization over the past years, Kayne still
outranked him. Dimitri Drugov, the big boss and the only one above him, was the
worrisome one. If he couldn’t convince him, it would not end well, for anybody.
Why couldn’t he just leave her in the room? She would have talked,
he had no doubt. He thought back to her big teary eyes supplicating him quietly,
desperately, and he could feel himself harden. No, he hadn’t saved her out of mercy.
He saved her because he wanted to be the one to make her cry and beg. He saved her
so he could be the one to break her and have her in all the ways he wanted. But
first she would have to surrender, willingly, and he would have to make her. He
wondered if it was even possible at all considering the situation. Kayne had never
personally held a woman captive before. But she was attractedto him.
He smiled to himself as he replayed scenes from the club in his head, remembering
her bashful ways, her nervousness. He would just need to buy himself some time, but
he would have her, powerless and at his mercy.
***
It was past one in the morning when Laura woke up with her stomach
growling. She got up and paced in her room a little, eyeing the door hesitantly. Her
ankle was feeling a little better. She decided on conquering her quarters before
venturing further in the house to appease her hunger. The closets and drawers were
bursting with all types of clothing, from casual to formal wear, most with the tag
still on and in her size. The vanity contained all the beauty supplies a girl could
ever need. She wondered if they were purchased for her, but that couldn’t be. He
never meant to bring her back to his home. He was ready to walk out on her in that
room. She wondered if she would still be alive if he had. Would she be mutilated?
How much pain would she have endured? She shuddered at the thought. Her hands were
still shaking when she finally reached for a pair of comfortable grey sweat pants
and a cozy purple hoodie. Her eyes fell back to the clothes, and she wondered what
fate had befallen the mysterious tenant.
Laura lingered behind the closed door for a few more minutes,
gathering courage before she cautiously pulled the handle. It swayed open without a
sound. The house seemed deserted, all the lights off. She breathed a little easier
at the observation as she tiptoed down the hall, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.
Passing a few closed doors on each side, she finally made her way back to the grand
entrance area containing the double stairs leading to the ominous upper level.
Anything beyond that point was stepping into new territory. But he said she could go
as she pleased on the first floor, and so she reassured herself that she wasn’t
breaking any rules. The affirmation, along with her howling stomach, strengthened
her resolve. She marched on, in her quest to find the much-sought-after kitchen,
regretting for a moment