Marian #2
I looked at the paper. “He wants two million. It says crypto, and that you will be contacted soon.”
“No.”
My lips parted at Bastian’s voice. At his response.
“What?” A sob forced its way through. “What do you mean, no?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do it, Marian. Not for any amount.”
“I…If you don’t have it, I do. Use my money.”
“No. I’m sorry, mon amour. If I give in to this ransom, you become a bigger target. My family becomes a target. It’s against protocol; you know this. He will let you go.”
“Bastian.” My voice became more desperate. “He’s not going to let me go. Give him the money. Give him my money. Don’t you dare leave me here.”
“He will let you go.”
“I won’t.”
The masked man’s voice cutting back through had me crying even harder. Panic left me wanting to scream. To rage at Bastian for not giving into this ransom to bring me home. Had I just thought that he loved me? Love wouldn’t sacrifice the one they were meant for. Love wouldn’t say no.
“Listen, I can’t give you money. I truthfully can’t. You chose the wrong woman to target.”
“Why,” I exploded. “Because I’m not one of your mistresses? I bet you would have paid for them! Do you know what you’re doing by leaving me here? He’s going to kill me, Bastian.”
“I wouldn’t be able to pay for anyone. Mon amour, try to understand. See from my eyes. Money is a gateway. One I can never open concerning these people.”
“You better open it for me. Open it right now. Right now! Do you know what I’ve had to endure? What’s going to happen? I want out of here. Pay him, Bastian. It’s two fucking million. That’s nothing for you. Pay him right now.”
The masked man pointed at me. I was tugging against the restraint so hard that my arm was about to be pulled from its socket.
The food churned and the pizza suddenly wasn’t sitting well in my stomach.
I’d eaten it too fast. I’d drank too much water.
I gagged, not able to stop myself from being sick.
“Mon Amour—"
“You have until tomorrow morning to change your mind. If I call and you decline, she’s dead.”
The call ended at the man’s push, and I felt myself sob as I tried to catch my breath between heaves.
But with the terror over my fate came anger.
One that proceeded this masked man. Bastian was choosing safety—protocol—over the one he was supposed to build a life with.
Although I understood his terms, I couldn’t understand how he could keep them.
I barely noticed as the man stood and headed towards a hall, disappearing.
I could faintly tell he was talking to someone, but it didn’t matter to me as I tried wracking my brain on a way to negotiate my release.
There had to be a way out of this. The man clearly wanted money, although he hadn’t given me that impression at the beginning.
And he wouldn’t take my money. It was Bastian’s money he wanted, and not even a lot of it. Just… his.
Heavy footsteps reappeared, and I kept my head down as the man slowed next to the bed.
When I looked up, he lowered, coming to sit closer towards me than he had before.
He took the sheet I’d gotten sick on, crumbling it and placing it in a trash bag.
I knew when he turned back to me that he wanted to say something.
It was in the way he shifted. In the way he seemed to fight to come closer.
“That better not be pity I’m detecting from you.
” I forced my eyes up to briefly meet the blacks of his.
“I will not die here. He doesn’t want to pay.
So what. You’ll take my money. I told you I would give you one-hundred-fifty million.
I will keep my word. It beats two million anyway.
” My voice lowered. “Just in case you really are bad at math. Just… please.”
His head shook, and I tried to stop the tantrum that was begging to unleash.
“I have the money. My ransom trumps his any day.”
Still, his head went back and forth.
“You’re a mess. Shower.”
It was my turn to shake ‘no’. It had him once again pointing in warning.
“Will you not touch me?”
Silence. He reached over, taking out the IV and unlocking the cuffs, letting them fall to the mattress.
I wasn’t getting out of this unless I formulated a plan.
I was free, but he’d expect me to run. Especially so soon.
But if he got me in the restroom, what if he tried to hurt me?
My racing mind made me feel even more sick.
It was impossible to decide on a strategy.
I let him help me stand, and I was surprised as he let go and motioned for me to head towards the hall.
And I did, but my steps were shaky and just as weak as I’d been when I’d awoken from the drugs.
Walking didn’t feel right. Even standing left me slightly off balance.
It was too much too soon, and I learned that the hard way as my shoulder crashed into the wall as I fought to gain control.
A large hand gripped to my hip from behind, and his other hand held just under my arm as he steered me to the restroom.
He didn’t have to tell me to undress or go to the bathroom.
Now that I was here, I was moving on my own.
He turned the water on, and I motioned for the man to leave enough to give me space.
Surprisingly, he did, which I was grateful for.
But he was back as soon as the toilet flushed, helping me into the shower as he seemed to know my legs were too weak to lift and step over the tub.
Where I detected a gentleness, it didn’t last as I tried to dodge the cold water.
His hand tightened, one to my hip, one latching to the back of my neck, walking me forward right into the ice cold that took my breath away.
“Hey. Hey!” I tried twisting, spitting out water as he forced the top of my head under the stream. The water pressure was so intense, I couldn’t catch my breath no matter how I tried to turn my face.
A gasp left me as he pulled me back, and I immediately spun to him, meeting his hand as it wrapped around my neck.
The air burst from my lungs as I was slammed into the wall at a force that made my head spin.
My legs gave out and my body tried curling into itself, but it couldn’t as he held me still, tearing at his pants and clothes as he hastily stripped down.
I jerked. I thrashed. The grip only tightened as he finally stepped in, moving his body right into mine. My face came up as his hold lifted, and I glared into blankness.
Neither of us spoke. Not even me when his hand settled between my legs, testing me.
Still, I narrowed my lids in anger, waiting.
Waiting for him to cross the line even more.
And he did. He met my bluff, dipping his shoulder so that he could trace towards my opening.
I didn’t miss the wetness that met him, nor did he as a deep sound reverberated around us.
“I’m going to break that finger before this is over with. Mark my words. You’d be smart to keep your hands to yourself.”
A soft laugh sounded, but he only leaned in even closer, nudging the tip into my entrance as he once again tightened around my neck. I thrashed hard, hating how there was even arousal present. I should hate this. I should…
“Is there a reason you keep doing this? I don’t remember giving my consent. Are you raping me or not?”
“I don’t need the consent of something I own.”
It was my turn to try to sarcastically laugh, but only because his answer was incredulous.
“You are every bit one of us. If I had any doubt, I sure don’t now. But you’re not British. You’re not French.”
The last was almost inaudible as my air completely got cut off.
The pressure left my anxiety skyrocketing.
My arm shot up, and I clawed at his wrists and forearms, trying to get a good enough grip as his body was pushing into mine.
I couldn’t lift my legs. I couldn’t do anything but fight to try to break his hold.
Little specks of light dotted my vision, and my arms grew so heavy, I could barely lift them. It was only then that I felt oxygen gush in. Coughing hit me hard as my body tried doubling over. Fire coated my lungs, and I was pushed back to the wall to face the masked man.
“You worry about me pitying you. I assure you I don’t.
Far from it. I own you. Think about what that means in our terms. Truly, think, Marian.
You’re mine, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.
Your family is dead. Soon, your fiancé will be too, and I’m going to make you be the one to do it.
You said you were sorry for what you did to me.
” The man reached up, jerking the mask free, and meeting my stare dead-on with nothing but hate. “I’m going to make you prove it.”