15. Ana
15
ANA
I awoke chained to the bed naked, my arms attached to the headboard and my feet spread apart, revealing every inch of my body. I struggled and shouted, terror making me indiscreet as I screamed for help.
None came.
I yanked on my hands, only to find the soft fur-lined cuffs held me too tightly to let me go. My feet were equally well secured, but in a way that would make me work to hurt myself. I screamed and struggled for what felt like hours, until my entire body ached, and my voice was hoarse from the abuse.
Those fuckers.
What. The. Fuck. Were they thinking?
“Uncle Angelo! Let me go! I’m your fucking niece! ”
No matter that he was adopted. He was my father’s brother in spirit, if not blood, raised by the same parents, in the same house, and?—
The door opened, and Valentin filled the frame, still clad in dress slacks and an untucked button-down shirt that did nothing to hide the wide sweep of his shoulders or the casual strength radiating from him when he leaned against the wall. “Knock it off, princess.”
My heart raced. I couldn’t catch my breath, and my entire body shook with terror. Heedless of my audience, I thrashed against my chains, desperate to escape. My vision narrowed to a tunnel in front of me and I couldn’t see a thing.
Strong fingers wrapped around my throat. A heavy palm rested on my neck, not constricting my airway, simply resting there, a calm and steady presence.
“Breathe,” a silky voice commanded me. Valentin. I took a deep breath in. “Let it out,” he commanded. A thumb brushed against my cheek, collecting a tear.
My heart rate slowed, and I opened my eyes to find Valentin looming over me, his expression inscrutable.
“Fuck you,” I spat, my voice hoarse from what felt like hours of yelling, refusing to acknowledge that he’d brought me back to earth before my panic attack could even start. “Let me go.”
“Ask me nicely.”
“Uncle Valentin, would you please let me go?”
“Absolutely not.”
I screamed with rage, red tinging the edges of my vision as I fought and struggled on the bed.
He crossed his arms over his chest and watched me until I exhausted myself.
When I finally fell silent, the gentle touch of his fingers on my face as he moved my hair behind my ear undid me. Too shocked by his tenderness to move, I lay there, trembling and confused as he stroked his thumb over my cheek.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice whisper soft.
Valentin leaned on the bed, shifting his hand to my forehead, where he stroked my temple. “Your uncle needs a new toy, and you’ve cost me millions. I’m looking forward to taking the price of what you’ve done out on this gorgeous creamy skin that’s begging for marks from my belt.”
His words cut deep. I’d fucked up, and once again, men wanted to take out their anger on my body.
“Ana,” he murmured. “You’re such a beautiful idiot. Every asshole who’s ever dreamed of making a name for themselves in the American mafia is after you, and now you’ve pissed off the French bratva—justified or not. You had a target on your back before, and now it’s even bigger. Your uncle Angelo and I will keep you safe.”
“Safe? Are you for fucking real?” I snarled, trying to reconcile his promises with the fact that I was naked and tied up on the fucking bed.
His lips turned up in a slight smile, as breathtaking as it was cruel. “In return, I’m going to hurt you. Then we’re going to train you until you’re a perfect little submissive who can’t live without our cocks.”
I wasn’t into that shit. I liked vanilla sex. Sweet sex. Sex where I felt like someone cared about me. Boring sex that didn’t do a thing for the ache in my pussy but soothed my soul when I could cuddle up to my partner afterward. Luca was the only man who’d found a way to make sweet be hot, and I’d left him behind too.
Not like Grégoire, who drugged me and raped me and beat me when I disobeyed. Fucking men.
“You’re disgusting,” I spat, turning my face away from him. “And you’ll never get away with this.”
“To the contrary, princess. You’re alone. No family except Angelo. As far as anyone else is concerned, you disappeared after you blew up Tchérnov’s yacht, and you never came back.”
The yawning pit in the bottom of my stomach grew, threatening to swallow me whole with terror.
Who would know? No one. Fucking no one. I hadn’t called the ex I’d left behind in Yorkfield. I hadn’t called my best friend. I hadn’t told anyone when I escaped because I couldn’t allow Angelo or Tchérnov to track me down.
Fuck.
I screamed my rage again, the sound primal and raw as I shredded my throat with my fury.
Valentin laughed softly. “ Tu es tellement mignonne .” You’re so cute.
“I have to pee,” I said, the idea coming to me suddenly.
He raised an eyebrow, amusement briefly softening his harsh features. “Piss in the bed.”
I flushed at the thought, embarrassment shuffling through me as I imagined letting myself go, releasing in front of him and soaking the mattress.
He traced a finger from my nose to my clavicle, down my breastbone, to my belly button, where he flicked at the jewelry I’d inserted there, a green jeweled charm that dangled from my piercing.
“Where else are you pierced?” he asked, although he had to know, given that someone had stripped me naked and chained me to the bed.
I closed my eyes in humiliation as he inspected my naked body.
“Just my ears and my nose,” I whispered. I shifted restlessly, unsure of myself for the first time.
What did he want?
Did he want me ?
Did he see the bruises?
Did he care about the tattoos?
He dragged his hand over my stomach, tracing the lines of ink that ran from the bottom of my breasts, down my ribcage, and to my pelvis. Only in places a one-piece swimsuit would cover. I was a rebel, but I wasn’t fucking stupid. Visible tattoos would permanently affect my marriageability in a way that piercing my nose or my belly button wouldn’t, thanks to the mafia’s absurd obsession with purity, as if decorating my skin made me a slut. At the end of the day, women in my position were valuable tools—useful for our pussies, the alliances we’d bring, and our capacity to pop out babies.
And that was it.
My best friend was forging another path, carving out a place back home for herself in blood, backed by her husbands, and most importantly, accepted by her traditional Italian family.
What did I have? Fucking nothing . My father was dead, and I couldn’t make myself mourn the bastard. He didn’t deserve a single one of my tears. But I could mourn the freedom I’d tasted, however briefly.
“Did you like getting pierced?”
My eyes snapped back open. “It fucking hurt!”
Valentin grinned, his white teeth flashing against his full lips. “I like to inflict pain, princess.”
My lips parted, unable to process what he was telling me. A sadist. A kinky fucking sadist. And he’d chained me up in a bedroom, told me I was going to be his submissive, and now he was asking me if I liked the pain from my piercings.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why such a painful rebellion …?” He trailed off, tracing a finger over the meandering path of my ink.
“None of your fucking business,” I snapped, twisting as far as I could and trying to buck his hand off me. He didn’t need to know that every tattoo was a rebuke of my father, that every time I came home with new ink, I paid the price, making each design that much more precious.
Valentin’s lips tilted up in a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then he reached over and slapped my left breast. Hard.
I gasped at the sting then flushed with embarrassment as the agony transformed into humiliating need. I marveled at how present I remained, as if my body recognized his right to command me, even if my brain refused.
“What the fuck?”
His smile turned fuller. “Let me explain what’s going to happen, Ana. You are going to become my toy. And Angelo’s pet. And you’re going to fucking love it. You don’t know it yet. You don’t believe it. But by the time we’re done, you will.”
“Fuck you,” I sneered weakly, dropping back down into the mattress, exhausted and tired and frightened out of my damn mind.
“Do you want to know what the rules are, slut?”
“No.”
“Perfect obedience. Speak only when spoken to. Come only when permitted.”
“Are you hoping I’ll become your willing sex slave?” I gasped, outraged.
Valentin bent down to brush his lips over my temple. “I know you will.”