Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
“Come, princess. I want you to have this.” He holds it out for me, and I fall victim to the trance in his voice. I slip forward and brush the fruit with the tip of my fingers. It's barely inside the cage.
My eyes find his, and my heart slams in my chest. I’m afraid to come out any farther.
“Go on, I won’t reach for you. You’re safe.” His words comfort me, as though I believe they’re true. It’s not a trick.
As I reach for the peach, his fingers gently brush along mine, stilling my beating heart and causing an intense heat to flow through my veins. The spark ignited is so intense, I nearly drop the peach, but I catch it just in time with both hands. I barely come out of the cage and look up at him, his cold blue eyes are heated and piercing into me. I slowly back away as if moving too quickly will alert him to the fact that he could touch me if he wanted to. It would break his rule if he did, but he’s staring at me with a hunger that I’ve never seen from him. An uncontrollable hunger that elicits both fear and desire.
I push my back up against the bars of the far end of the cage and wait with the peach, my prize and gift, held firmly in both hands. My body is tense as he finally stands and leaves me in silence.
I wait to hear the click of the door and beep of the lock before bringing the fruit to my lips, practically moaning from the sweetness and licking every drop of delicious juice, wasting nothing.
It seems as though I’d only just taken a bite when I look down and see it’s gone, replaced with the pit.
It wasn’t enough. I need more.
Chapter 9
Gio
* * *
She’s still in the cage. She’s always in the cage.
It’s impressive. Grace has gone so many days without eating, despite how weak she was when she first woke up. She was defiant, angry, and still refuses to leave the cage. She’s finally accepting some food, but that defiance is still there, that beautiful fucking defiance.
In the early days, she would sneak from her cage when she thought I wasn’t watching. I’m always watching her, though. I let her explore the room, test her boundaries.
I let her learn that there was no real escape.
I lean back in my chair, watching her. She barely moves, rocking side to side, humming something. I’m not sure what the music is, but she hums it sometimes when I’m not in the room. Maybe it’s just nonsense and she’s just passing time, or maybe it’s a memory she can’t help but vocalize.
I’m fascinated by her, far more interested than I thought I would be. I thought she was just another mafia princess, a spoiled little girl without a personality. I expected weakness.
Instead, I got the total opposite. According to the map of scars on her body, she's been through so much before she came to me. Because of that she has a strength inside of her that I’m not even sure she’s aware of. She’s resisting me far more than I ever imagined she could, and it excites me to no end.
I know that’s fucked up, but I’m past worrying. The darkness is there, begging to be fed every single day. I honor my word and don’t touch her when she’s in the cage, which is all the time, but I ache for her to come out. I ache for the day when she finally crawls out and begs me to come into the room and touch her. I want her to beg for it so badly. I can give her a reason to continue breathing. I can make her body feel things she’s probably never felt before and much, much more.
It will feel good to submit to me.
That’s how I’ll break her, I know. She’ll finally trust me enough to call me into the room. I’ll unwrap her from that blanket and bathe her, take care of her. And finally I’ll slide my fingers gently along her skin and make her shiver until she pleads for more. I’ll do it again and again, and soon I’ll have her dripping wet on the floor, writhing with pleasure as my fingers do their work.
I’m hard as fuck just watching her on the cameras, imagining what I’d do to her. The whole thing is twisted and I feel broken inside, but I’ll keep going forward. That’s how I live my fucking life, just keep moving forward.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the front door. I stand up, pissed off at the interruption, and take one last glance at the monitors. She’s not moving again. I leave the control room and shut the door behind me, locking it with a key. I quickly walk to the front door just as the knock comes again.