Chapter 11
Gio
Several days pass, and I feel nothing but frustration.
Grace barely ever leaves the safety of the cage.
No matter what I do to try and tempt her, she stays hidden away from me, just out of reach.
She only granted me that one touch. She tempted me, teased me with that touch.
She stares at me defiantly when I enter the room and looks away when I speak to her, but I see something in her glances that always surprises me.
I thought I was so close. She almost came out, but in the end it made her retreat further into herself.
Nothing works. I try comfortable things, attractive things, and delicious things.
The hours tick past and she ignores it all, sticking to her horribly uncomfortable cage.
I know she sneaks out in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, but she runs as fast as she can and doesn’t linger for longer than she has to.
I let her. I don’t tell her that I know.
She probably assumes as much, anyway. There’s a deep intelligence behind her uncooperative eyes that I haven’t even begun to explore.
I’ve thought about taking advantage of the situation and trying to catch her.
Shutting the door to her cage and leaving her with no escape.
But that’s not what I want. I need her to want to come to me. But I’m getting impatient.
I can’t help but question my tactics. I came into this assuming she was just another mafia princess, but my princess is clearly much more than that.
She has this reserve of strength hidden deep inside of her that she’s drawing from.
I don’t know where it comes from, not yet at least, but I want to know. I want to know everything about her.
The darkness inside of me rears its ugly head every time I go into her room, wanting to take her, use her, and destroy her. It wants to be fed, and its voice is getting louder and louder.
But there’s another feeling inside of me keeping the darkness at bay.
I don’t know how to explain it. It’s something like a mix of curiosity and pity.
I want to learn about the girl, to get inside of her head and pick its beauty clean.
I also hate what the scars on her flesh mean, and I want her to give into me so that I can stop keeping her in a cage.
I want her to break for her own sake as much as for mine.
But she’s stubborn. Beautiful and stubborn.
I lean back in my chair, keeping one eye on the live feed of my princess in her cage while I go back through old tapes.
I watch myself walk into the room with a comfortable chair and place it in the corner.
I set up a table and cover it with a blanket and scarves and other warm, cozy things.
She ignores it all, every single one of these items.
I stop when I get to the moment I’m waiting for. I watch as I walk into the room and get close to her cage. She moves away like she’s afraid, but I pause and zoom in on her face.
It’s grainy, but I can make out her expression clearly.
She’s not afraid. She’s interested. She’s watching me with wide eyes, but her face doesn’t betray an ounce of terror. Instead, it looks like she’s watching someone she’s curious about.
I skip ahead to the next day and find a similar moment. As I get close to her cage, I watch her face again in slow motion.
It’s more pronounced this time. She’s afraid, of course, but there’s something else in her eyes.
She wants me.
The thought hits me like a train. My princess wants me.
Her face quickly changes as I continue watching, but there’s no mistaking it.
I go back and watch again, smiling to myself, feeling something stir in my chest. It’s a deep, deep desire for her body, a desire which I am beginning to realize she shares for mine.
I’ve seen that look on women’s faces hundreds of times in my life. There’s no mistaking it. I’ve had my fair share of women, and I know how they look when they see something they want. It’s not always obvious, but if you know what you’re looking for, it’s always there.
Wide eyes. Lips parted ever so slightly. Tongue against the teeth.
My dirty little princess.
She wants to taste my cock sliding down her throat. She wants to feel my cock press between her legs as I whisper in her ear, telling her how slick her cunt is, how dirty she is for letting me have her body however I want.
I can already see it. She wants to be a filthy slut for me.
I look back at the live feed and frown again. Although she wants me, she’s doing a damn good job of hiding it. She’s resisting it with all of her willpower, and so far she’s done an incredible job. It took me a while to even really notice it, but now I can exploit it. Use it. Break her.
Make her mine.
I feel newly energized, but my problems haven’t changed. I need a new tactic, something to gain her trust.
She can’t resist me forever. Hell, she doesn’t want to.
I get up and walk into my main room, a plan already beginning to take shape in my mind.
I press my thumb against the scanner and the door opens. I step inside, my heart quickening the way it does every time I come near her. I slide sideways, carrying the chalkboard and the chalk in my hands.
She looks up at me, that gorgeous face almost openly curious. I walk toward her and she backs off, but I catch the look of desire. She can’t hide it from me, not this time.
“Hello princess,” I say, smiling. She watches me as I set up the chalkboard on top of the table facing her cage. I leave and grab a clock from outside before returning with it. I set up the clock next to the board and look back at her.
She’s watching me closely. I want to walk into that cage and pull her out by her ankle and take her right here and now, but I won’t. I can't do that to my princess, not until she’s begging for it.
“Do you know what this is?” I ask her.
She watches me silently.
She looks thin and exhausted. I also know that she just needs to eat and sleep. The stress of the situation is making her feel ill.
“It’s a chalkboard,” I say. I write a time on the board: eight in the morning. I write another one down: six in the evening. I write two more times: nine in the evening, and one in the morning. She watches me the whole time, unmoving, quiet as a mouse.
“I’m changing the rules of the game, just a little bit,” I say. “On this board are a list of times. Starting at each time, you have one hour to leave the cage. I will not enter this room, and I will not touch you.”
She remains silent, but I can tell she’s listening intently. She moves closer to me, closer to the entrance to the cage.
“You can do whatever you want during this hour,” I say. “Sleep, shower, whatever you desire. If you’re good, I’ll give you more time. Maybe even a few hours at night so that you can sleep.” I pause and smile at her. “But only if you’re good.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
Her sudden speech surprises me. I stare at her for a second, feeling like I imagined it, but no, she definitely spoke.
“Have I lied to you yet?” I ask.
“No,” she says.
“No, I haven’t. And I’m not lying to you now.” I crouch down in front of the cage and watch her, eyes hard. “I can come into that cage any time I want, but I don’t, because I made you a promise. I will keep my promises to you, princess. I’ll never break them.”
She stares at me, but says nothing. At least she isn’t recoiling away from me like she normally does.
Emboldened, I stand up and leave the room. Out in the kitchen, I get her meal together: a delicious soup, some freshly baked bread, and a tall glass of lemonade. I carry it on a tray back into the room and place it down on the table.
She watches the food, her eyes wide. I can tell that she wants it, and wants it badly. I've always given her food, but I’m a bastard. It’s been mediocre and only there for nourishment. This is a treat. And she knows it.
“Come here, princess,” I say softly. I crouch down near the cage’s entrance again. “Let me hold you. Let me feed you.”
“No,” she says softly.
“Come,” I say. “You’ll be safe. I’ll take care of you if you come out. I promise I’ll only feed you this time.” I’m hoping this time she’ll give in. She’ll crack, and whatever held her back before won’t sneak up again this time.
She stares at me and moves closer to the entrance. Hope blooms in my chest. She’s considering it. She looks me up and down with her brows drawn together. “Promise me?”
“I promise,” I say. “I want to hold you and feed you. Come here.” I hold out my hand.
She slides closer, close enough to touch. I reach in and gently take her hand.
My heart begins to pound in my chest. She’s finally letting me touch her. I pull her toward me, being as careful as I can, but I see pain on her face. I frown, surprised.
I didn’t think she was actually sick. But as I pull her out, I realize she’s burning up.
She has a fever.
“How do you feel?” I ask her as I carry her in my arms to the table. I try to control my expression, but I’m worried. I didn’t feel a fever two days ago. This is new.
“I’m fine,” she says quietly.
I sit down with her in my lap. I can feel my cock stirring with excitement and the darkness begging to be fed, but I block it all out. I made a promise, and I’m going to keep my promises to her.
“You feel warm,” I say softly. I take a spoonful of soup and bring it to her lips. She accepts it gratefully. I get another and another, and she eats every single one. Good girl.
“I’m fine,” she says finally. I break off some bread and gently feed it to her. My fingers slip past her soft lips, and I feel the warmth of her mouth. Again my dick hardens, but I ignore it. I can feel my breathing coming in heavier, but I don’t act on the thoughts screaming in my head.
I shift her weight in my lap. Her whole body rests against mine, almost like she can barely keep herself upright. She’s so damn light, and I marvel all over again how easily I could break her if I wanted. She’s not well, I remind myself. I’m not well.