Chapter Nine | Cordelia
Axel Mazitti.
I have found myself in a particularly tough situation. Usually when a man handles me like he does, I kill him and dispose of the body. I don’t allow men to touch me for any reason, unless I’ve given him permission to do so, like when I need sex. However, this fucking buffoon is stringing me along for what ever sick game he thinks we're playing, and I can’t seem to do anything to get the upper hand. He’s stronger than me, which is obvious, I’m five-seven to his six-two, but he also weighs more than me, and apparently works out. Because he’s got the upper body of a goddamn professional wrestler. Ugh, and he has those damn veins that melt me into putty. So, saying that I could beat him in a straight one on one match would be the epitome of idiot choices. No, I need to out think him, to get the upper hand and slap him down a peg or two.
Other men I’ve handled, well, let's just say they thought they were getting lucky, so it was simple enough to get them to do what I wanted. This fucking psycho isn’t like that. He grew up in a world where killing people is fun and hearts and flowers kind of romance is bad.
Wait. I think like that. Ugh, don’t buy me flowers, they’re a waste of money.
I watch as Axel paces in his room as I sit on the bed, waiting for whatever is supposed to happen next. I took a peek at his phone and saw it was around four in the afternoon, but it’s been at least a half hour since then.
“You’re about to meet my family.”
“The Mazitti’s?” I ask, trying to not sound worried. Because hello, they’re notorious for killing people. I mean, I kill people too, but they legit get paid to do it. I just do it for fun, and not to mention, they are kind of the most powerful family in the midwest.
“Try not to kill my sisters.” He replies.
“Are they idiots?” I ask, standing up off the bed.
“No, but this dinner you’re about to attend will be full of questions. Just answer them, we’ve already researched you, so the chances are we already know the answers.”
“You researched me?”
“Yes.” He replies as someone knocks on the door. He unlocks it and cracks it open, reaching out for something. When he pulls a bag through the door, I eye it carefully. It’s one of those black dress bags that rich people carry clothes in. Axel locks the door and holds the back out for me, “Get dressed.”
“I am not wearing whatever expensive ass dress is in there just to die in something that isn’t comfortable.” I fold my arms over my chest, taking a step backwards.
“Either put it on yourself, or I’ll put it on you.” He arches a brow, and I know he fucking will. Damn savage. I snatch the black bag from him and toss it onto the bed, unzipping it I see a blood red dress that looks like it’ll be skin fucking tight on me and a pair of black strappy heels. Not quite as tall as I’m used to, but good enough. “It’s more than what you wear on stage, I think you’ll be fine.”
I want to say something that I know will get me in trouble, but I’m already nervous about what tonight’s festivities will contain, and I feel like I might need him on my side. “Thank you.”
Taking the dress out of the bag, I kick off the baggy clothes he dressed me in last night and pull the dress on. There’s a zipper in the back that I know I won’t be able to reach, so I put my heels on and fluff my hair out. “Turn around.” He says, spinning a finger in the air, so I do, pulling my hair out of the way. His fingers touch my lower back and I feel him as he traces it up my back, zipping the dress. When the zipper stops, he traces his finger up my neck, to my ear, sending a perfect shiver through my body. Goddamn. “Beautiful.” He whispers.
I start to lean down to fasten the heels, and instead he stands me back up and turns me around. When he kneels before me and pulls one of my legs up to his knee, I almost orgasm. He’s being all gentlemanly. What the fuck? When Axel fastens both heel straps, he stands up and pulls a necklace out of his pocket.
“Hello.” I say, looking at the stunning chain, but then it hits me, this is one of those collar necklaces, the kinds that use a lock and key. “Are you putting a collar on me like fucking dog?”
“You are my pet.” He laughs and slips it on before I can even react to his movements. I really need to train better, I haven’t gone to any of my self defense classes in like two years, because I thought I could handle myself. Ha! Axel showed me. “Now, sit and wait while I dress, there is makeup and some hair tools and supplies in the bathroom if you’d like to do any of that. My sisters brought them earlier.”
“So your family, all of them know you have me locked up here.”
“All but my oldest brother JT, he’s off on a mission of some kind in Washington with my aunt and uncle.”
“So it’ll be your mom, your dads, sisters, and?”
“Kenan, you met him at the club.”
“The dickbag who called me doll face?” I scoff as he moves into a large closet.
“Yes.” He laughs.
“Well, if I’m nice to your sisters, do I need to be nice to him?” I ask as he pulls clothes out of the closet and moves towards the bed.
“No, you don’t have to be nice to him.” He places his suit on the bed and walks towards the dresser. I walk around the bed and head into the bathroom to put on some makeup and do my hair. Looking in the mirror, I’m thankful his sisters thought to bring me these things because fucking hell, I look like I’ve been rode hard and put awaywet.
“Good, because he seems like a womanizer, and I can’t stand those kind of people.” I say, hinting at the guys I’ve killed without saying it outright.
“I’m aware.” He states, not really questioning me any further like he did before. Maybe he really does know that I kill people, and maybe it’s not as bad as I think it will be. They all kill people, right? I’m probably over thinking all of this and it’s just fucking dinner.
After ten minutes, he walks into the bathroom dripping with sexual tension. Fuck my life. He looks good enough to eat. His hair is messy on top of his head, but it suits him. The black suit jacket with a black button down under it, I used to think that was a no go, all black just wasn’t something I found attractive. Then I spot a matching red pocket square, and when my eyes meet his, I smile. Like a fucking idiot. He’s turning me into the kind of woman I never wanted to be, one who relies on a man. Yet, here I am, letting him dress me like a fucking barbie, bringing me makeup and shit, putting a collar on me. Who am I right now?
“Why can’t I go home again?” I ask, hoping this time he answers as I curl a strand of hair. My makeup is already done and this is the last strand of hair to curl.
“You’ll be able to go to your house in a couple of days.”
“Alone?”I ask, almost too hopeful.
He reaches around and pinches my face, forcing me to look at him, which makes me burn my fucking ear and drop the curling iron. “Futsh.” I try to cuss, but he pinches my cheeks harder.
“What do you not understand about you being mine? I need you to tell me what part is confusing so we can straighten out this detail immediately.”
I mumble some words, but nothing makes any sense because hello, he’s squishing my face so fucking hard that it’s hard to even think straight. He lets go, and I rub my cheeks. “You know,” I start, but then I remember, I need him on my side tonight. I’m in a house full of “You know,” I say again. “You’re fucking unhinged.” I state.
“Who’s unhinged?” He asks.
“You are, you fucking psychopathic moron.” I snap, picking the curling iron back up, turn it off and sit it on the counter.
“No, little deer, we’re unhinged.” He wraps his fingers around my throat and pulls me closer to him. “I know what you do at night. I know what you do to those men.”
“What men?” I ask, swallowing.
“Don’t play coy with me, you can deny who you are to anyone else little deer, but with me, I want you to be who you truly are. You talked about plucking my eyes out and cooking them.”
“Flambe.” I correct.
“See, who the fuck flambe’s eyes? So, no more hiding. Submit when you need to, but I want all of you.” He presses a kiss to my lips, and then bites on my bottom lip, pulling on it until it hurts. “Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me little deer, what did you do with the bodies?”
“Do you remember what I said I was going to do to you?”
“The soupy bits part?” He asks with a smile.
“Yes.”
“Do you make man soup, little deer? I didn’t take you for a cannibal.”
“Ew, gross. No, I make them into soup and then pour it down the drain in my basement. The entire room is set up as a kill room, sort of like a butcher shop, with drains in the floors.”
“That makes sense.” He nods, like that puts all the puzzle pieces together for him.
“You say that as if it’s not completely crazy.” I respond, almost offended he’s not offended that I kill men, chop them into tiny pieces and then flush them down the drain.
“Crazy is a mindset, little deer. You think Stalin knew the stuff he was doing was bat shit looney? Absolutely not. You have to recognize what you’re doing is wrong or not normal to believe that you’re crazy, lucky for you... self reflection is not my strong suit.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.” I huff out, feeling like I’m on a whole different planet than this man. “How’s your empathy levels?”
“Non-exsistant.” He replies, letting go of my throat. “Are you finished, they’re probably waiting on us.”
“Well, lets not keep the fucking mob queen waiting.” I push around him, worried she’s gonna be pissed that we’re late.
“Slow down.” He grabs my elbow and spins me around. “Ground rules.”
“Don’t kill your sisters. Be mean to your brother. I understand.”
“My parents are going to ream you with a million questions. Answer all of them. If I feel like they’ve gone too far, I’ll step in. If I don’t step in, you answer.”
“Got it.” I nod. “Can we not upset your mother and dads by taking our time. If I knew they were waiting on us-”
He cuts me off, “They can continue waiting until I’m ready. Do you understand what you’re walking into?”
“I think I can handle it.” I pop off. He laughs and then leads me to the door. I watch as he pulls a key from his neck and unlocks the door. So that’s where the key is. Good to know.