Chapter 33 The Silver Fox
I had just landed and a chauffeur with a sign that had my "name" on it walked me to his limousine. The car had just taken off, still in the airport when I got the text
Master: ETA
Me: Five minutes.
Master: I’m so excited.
I couldn’t say the same. It had been a long time since he’d shocked, horrified, and/or beaten me. I hadn’t seen him since she killed Callum. I was due.
The fact I’d never heard him even pronounce Portugal had me reeling.
What torture center did he have there? My stomach cramped as we got nearer to the location.
Outside, I was this tall gym rat-looking man, but inside, when he was around, I shriveled back into that ten-year-old boy he’d first kidnapped and raped until I forgot that I had been something else before.
When the car stopped, I gawked at the place.
We were in a desolate location next to a cliff, at least five hundred feet above the ocean.
There was nothing to the left or the right but the horizon and a big mansion painted in blinding white.
It was as if we were in the desert, not a blade of grass or tree outside, and the only oasis was this menacing property.
I sighed, and my body felt sicker by the minute.
Behind the gates were tons of trees; outside, just rocks and sand.
The driveway was packed with expensive cars and limousines dropping off people dressed for a fancy party.
Master walked out of the house onto the platform, standing at the edge above four steps, and the two giant black metal doors with a pattern of flowers, leaves, and climbing plants were left open behind him.
He wore a black tux, with pitch-black sunglasses, holding a glass with a brown liquid.
I didn’t want to get out. Somehow, I already knew what was inside that house, a party full of terror.
“Sir,” the chauffeur called, hurrying me to leave, and I met his gaze.
He sighed after breaking eye contact. By that, I knew my face was pale from fright.
I continued to hesitate, unable to even swallow.
When I finally lifted my hand to push open the door, I saw it was trembling, but I got out anyway.
The trunk opened, so I grabbed my bag then slammed it shut.
“My love.” Like always, he opened his arms and grinned.
“You finally made it.” I climbed the stairs to him, but he didn’t move, so I was his height at two steps down.
He flattened his palms on my cheeks and squeezed them to pucker my lips and kiss me.
“It has definitely been way too long.” He embraced me, and even though it was probably over a hundred degrees, I shivered in his arms.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asked after slapping my chest with his palm.
“Hi. Uhhh…” I searched for words, any word. “Sorry. Uh… It was a long trip.”
“Come on.” He took my bag and handed it to some guy who happened to appear out of nowhere.
“Here. Drink this. It’s the best whiskey in the whole fucking world.
” He pushed the glass onto my lips and angled it so I’d drink it.
The liquid burned my mouth, then I swallowed the first and second gulps.
He took away the glass, and before I could swallow, his lips crashed to mine.
His tongue curled against mine in the pool of alcohol, kissing me deep, and half the liquid ran down my jaw.
As if nothing had happened, he turned around with his palm wrapped around my neck.
I had to wipe my face with the back of my hand.
It had been an aggressive kiss, so I could still feel his mouth on mine and tongue inside me.
The burning slid down my throat, heating it and, even though it was one drink, I already felt its effects.
He blabbered as we walked in, and all my thoughts and body calmed.
His voice was a bit muffled, and I wasn’t sure if that was because my ears were messed up from the change in pressure during flight or because of the liquid terror coursing through my veins.
Whatever it was that he was going to do to me, I couldn’t stop him, so there was no sense in torturing myself even more by anticipating and thinking about it for hours.
The entryway led to a glass hall to the left, then there was a small round room with people chatting and sipping drinks.
Symphony music got louder the deeper we walked.
Along my right was glass wall after glass wall, showcasing the ocean.
In the second, bigger circular room were a collection of loungers, where slave girls were sobbing, screaming, and shaking while being held down and raped.
I thought of my little one, how I had fucked her just the day before, and my cock hardened.
We passed a center patio that led to the dining room to my right and a living room to the left, where more people were fucking.
In the next patio was a pool full of naked people, and finally, to the left was an office full of books, like some old Victorian library.
I knew the men inside except for one. They were the overlords.
“Hey!” A few of them greeted mostly Master since they knew I was nothing but his bitch. Marco Paucinini, Thomas Johnson, Ron Denver, Pierre Garnier, and Leo Monroeu. I didn’t know the one who couldn’t take his eyes off me.
“You’ve met everyone, right?” Master asked me while pointing at the crowd, with his arm and palm fully extended.
“Not me,” the stranger announced from a few meters away with a smile on his face. He was older, with head full of gray curls, and looked like he’d enjoyed too much time in the sun, with his orange skin, but otherwise, he was physically fit.
“Oh, please excuse me. Tristan, this is Jay DiSantos.”
“Mr. DiSantos, nice to meet you.” I nodded once while shaking his hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Tristan. How is the New York unit managing?”
“Great. We just closed a one-billion-dollar deal,” I said, wearing a fake smile.
“Yes, I know, that was with me.”
“Oh. You’re the Silver Fox?” I’d already suspected, but I had to act the fool.
He chuckled and said, “Yes.”
Holy shit. I have him. I had to hide my glee at all costs. The end was in sight! Maybe I could even save Magdalena after all. “Well, then it’s even more of an honor.” Jay DiSantos, what a mixed name. It sounded so familiar, yet I couldn’t place where I’d heard of it.
“How is my princess doing?” he asked.
“Oh, she actually just passed her test, so she’s being reintroduced into society. You know our process.”
Again, he let out a little chuckle. “Yes. I’m looking forward to enjoying her. She has a certain spark in her eyes that I can’t wait to turn off, like she’s not capable of being domesticated.”
“Well, I definitely must admit she was a challenge. But she’s almost ready.”
Master hit his glass of whiskey with a small spoon.
I had not even noticed when he’d stepped away.
Everyone turned to give him their attention, and all expression melted from my eyes when I saw a big round table being assembled in the middle of the room.
A man came in with black robes hanging from his arm.
He distributed them to everyone as he walked through the room, then the two gigantic baroque doors were closed from the inside.
Quickly, the curtains were drawn, significantly darkening the room.
I swallowed deep. The place started shrinking, but I knew I was just having a panic attack.
I blinked and was no longer there. I was in the warehouse again, where they’d almost killed us.
What the fuck is happening? I scanned the room, but thank God no one was looking at me, so maybe this wasn’t about me.
Then who? The room was mostly empty, just the overlords.
With my gaze on Master, I walked around the room until I was almost by the doors, where I could see they’d brought in a wooden box, the likes of which we usually used to transport the girls. What. The. Fuck?
I knew what this was, but I didn’t want to know.
I undressed as everyone else had done and put on the robe, with the hood over my head.
Once everyone was dressed, the male servant cracked the box open, revealing a terrified naked kid.
He met my gaze, but his expression was unreadable, as if we had not promised each other there wouldn’t be any more children tied to a table and gang raped.
As if he had not promised me a hundred times that he wasn’t into that anymore, that I had been what he’d been searching for.
It wasn’t that I was hurt that he’d lied.
My terror for the child was causing my mind to slowly shatter.
The intensity between us increased with every second.
Under any other circumstances, I would’ve lowered my eyes to stare at the floor in obedience, but not this time.
The longer I waited to do what he wanted, the harder he glared at me.
I covered my face and turned away, searching for a garbage can to throw up in, but there was nothing. Squeezing my eyes tight, I took a deep breath before I faced the spectacle again.
It was just as I’d remembered. Everything they’d done to me, they were about to do to that poor boy. By the time I rushed to him, the kid was flat on his tummy—his neck, waist, knees, ankles, and wrists secured to the table. I refused to keep looking but heard the bottle of lube being squeezed.
“Please don’t do this,” I whispered from behind him.
“Tristan…” he warned through gritted teeth without turning to face me.
“What are you doing? You promised me you wouldn’t do this again.” He didn’t respond.
“Francois—” I swallowed deep. I had never dared call him by his name before. “Please, I am begging you from the bottom of my fucking heart. I’ll do anything, anything you want, but please don’t do this.”
“Anything?”