Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
She must have some serious daddy issues, because he was much older than her. She wasn’t sure by how much, but his thick, black hair had a few streaks of grey. There was a maturity to him. Of course, she also knew he was a man who did a lot of bad things. That was beside the point. Her father also did a lot of bad things.
Even still, she couldn’t get over the depth of his brown eyes. He made her nervous and curious whenever he looked at her. There were so many times she had to stop herself from asking what he was thinking. What kind of woman asked her kidnapper what he was thinking? With her luck lately, he was probably plotting her death. She being the nice kidnapped victim would probably help him out. Stupid, lame doormat.
“Your food is ready,” Dom said, without looking up from his cell phone.
She paused as he moved, and lifted the silver cover on her plate. “Oh, I thought you wanted me to serve you.”
There was no gun, no knife, and none of his soldiers were in the room to … hurt her. She was going to live another day.
“You took too long,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” She gritted her teeth together. Why was she saying that? See, stupid lame doormat.
Clenching her hands into fists, she slowly moved closer and slid into the seat where her food was. She stared down at the plate, and her stomach rumbled. Spaghetti and meatballs had always been her favorite. She loved the ones her mother made, which didn’t have too much garlic. She loved garlic, but not when it was the only thing she could taste on the food.
Picking up her fork, she quickly glanced across the table and saw Dom had steak and potatoes. She sliced into the meatball, and sure enough, it was either pork or chicken. Taking a bite, she knew it was a combination of both.
The food, like always, was delicious. Dom had an in-house chef, Alfie, and he was an amazing cook.
Twirling her fork into her spaghetti, she scooped it into her mouth, and knew she was not quite as delicate as she could be. When it came to pasta, she was a bit of a monster, shoveling it into her mouth. With Dom present, she tried to be sensible, delicate, ladylike, but she was starving and needed all the calories she could get.
Every now and then, she glanced up and noticed him looking at her. She didn’t know what to do, so she averted her gaze and kept eating. In the back of her mind, there was a question she wanted to ask. It had been forming for several days, if not weeks. The lame doormat inside her stopped her from asking it. Why ask a question she knew might get her killed?
She didn’t know if it was the months, the constant fear of death, or what, but now she blurted the words.
“What do I have to do to get out of here alive?” she asked.
This was not the delicate way she wanted to ask, or even the exact words she wanted to say, but they would have to do for now.
His response did surprise her. “The real question, Emily, is what are you willing to do to make it out of here alive?”
Damn it, she loved the way he said her name.
****
Dom knew he shouldn’t care. Emily Craven was not his problem. If he was in his right mind, he’d dispose of her with ease. Just get her out of his life. It was a simple bullet to the head, and she would be no one’s problem. Only, something about Emily had him taking her in the first place.
Nigel, the sniveling little shit, had every intention of selling her on the black market. He’d seen the details. He didn’t like Nigel, never had. They were enemies for a reason. Nigel was filth, and even though he knew he wasn’t a good man, he was not like Nigel.
Nigel used and abused his power. The women that worked for him would do anything for drugs, and some of that shit was sickening. He was always about making money, fast. He was even willing to use his own daughter to make a few million, by selling her virginity to the highest bidder.
Dom intervened.
He was not a good man, he knew that. Women worked for him, but they did so to earn a living, and he never forced them into it. He made sure they were clean, and he took care of those in his employ. He helped the women who didn’t want to fuck for a living as well, those who wanted a fresh start.
He owned multiple businesses, some legal, most not. He made a lot of money and was good at what he did. Men feared him because he wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary to get what he wanted.