Taken Captive

Chapter 1

“Death comes black and hard, rushing down on me from the future, with no possible chance of escape.”—David Gerrold

Cassie

Revenge is mine, sayeth…

I often thought of the words my mother used to say during times of strife, more so lately.

They were meant as a reminder that forgiveness was the Godly thing to do.

Good people forgave others, believing their sins could be redeemed.

I knew better. Then again, I was a bad girl. I hungered for revenge.

Not the kind that would simply tarnish a man’s soul or his business. Not the kind that would expose him for atrocities committed without conscience. And not the kind that would allow him salvation in the end. What I craved and what I would take from him was something else entirely.

Everything, including his life.

Only there wasn’t just a single evil man I planned on destroying. There were three.

All three would face my wrath.

I’d thought about death over the last few months, what it would feel like when your mind began to understand you were facing your demise.

I could imagine the swirling blackness as your vision started to fade, your ability to focus slipping through your fingers.

Hearing the thudding of your heart as it took its last breaths of Earth’s crisp air.

And the silence that would follow, thorny claws wrapping around you, dragging you straight into the pits of hell.

Death was the ultimate cleanser.

That’s exactly what they deserved.

There would be no salvation.

I’d made a vow, spending months to plan how and when I’d exact my revenge. Now it was time, and the anguish I had in mind was… perfect.

I would enjoy every single moment of stripping their lives away, adding misery to their wealthy, powerful existence.

I would be there as they took their last breath.

Then I would walk away.

The revenge was all mine.

* * *

Alexander

New York City

Club Divine.

I’d built it, resurrecting not only the building but another method of keeping a powerful hold on a solid portion of the city. I’d made a fortune since the day the doors were opened, parlaying the money earned into other profitable businesses.

Although the majority were of the unsavory kind.

Inhaling, the crisp evening air was invigorating. I did so love New York this time of year.

I handed the valet my keys. There was no need for explanations or preemptive admonishment if anything happened to my beloved Ferrari.

I hired the best people in the industry and none of them would ever dare fuck with the prince of the Durante mafia family.

I was primed to take over from my father, his impending retirement based on a desire to leave the ugly world behind instead of injury or age.

I enjoyed being called the Brutal Lord. It suited me as well as the business my family had been successful in for generations.

I’d learned how to be a merciless leader, more so because of the education my family’s wealth had afforded my father’s only son.

I enjoyed the perks associated with my level of power, indulgences that most men would shy away from.

While I hadn’t been to the location in almost two weeks, I managed to keep a firm hold on every business operation. I kept to my regimen, overseeing the various facilities on a regular basis.

I took a few seconds, studying the environment as well as the influential crowd.

There were several high-ranking officials in the house tonight.

Judges. Lawyers. Corporate moguls. There was a waiting list of at least five hundred men, all determined to gain an invitation to the most sought-after club in the city.

I was selective on purpose, only catering to those who could be of service at a later time.

As I headed for my regular table, the manager noticed my entrance immediately, pushing aside the man he’d been engaged in a conversation with, walking in my direction.

The moment I sat down, two of my enforcers shifted toward the table, taking the other two seats.

The routine was always the same, the behavior preventing me from taking a hit more than once.

Only the most loyal were allowed to guard my presence during outside functions.

There was nothing I valued more than respect, and most gave it to me in spades.

“Any issues tonight?” I asked Martinez casually as I motioned toward one of my favorite cocktail waitresses. She didn’t need to approach our table, my drink of choice known by almost everyone.

“Nothing we haven’t been able to handle,” Martinez said as he scanned the crowded space. “Just the usual disagreements.” He was a brutal enforcer, a man who’d done well with the club after taking my staunch advice. The club had the hottest entertainment in town.

I sat back, glancing at the cages hanging several feet over the tables.

I drummed my fingers on the table, allowing my gaze to move from one girl to another.

They danced and gyrated in the limited space, using the steel bars as props, every one of them dressed in some fabulous costume.

A French maid. A gladiator. A cowgirl. There was almost any flavor available to my members.

While they were all beautiful women, their skills exemplary, one in particular caught my eye.

The dancer seemed impervious to the hungry men below her, enjoying herself without needing affirmation.

I was intrigued not only by her beauty but by her obvious enjoyment of what she was doing. My cock immediately hardened, which was unusual. I’d never been attracted to any of them. I had to know more. I beckoned for my manager, waiting impatiently as Paul Rodriguez approached.

My drink was placed in front of me, and I grabbed it immediately, swirling the dark liquid as I studied the gorgeous redhead.

“Who is she?” I asked, pointing toward the cage where the redhead entertained the crowd. I noticed at least three members moving closer, attempting to shove hundred-dollar bills in through the bars.

Paul twisted his head around, chuckling under his breath. “I thought you might appreciate my latest find. She’s magnificent, isn’t she? She can dance for hours and dear God, does she know how to flirt.”

“Has she been requested?” I asked. Most of the girls remained dancers and nothing more. However, a select few were paid very well to provide personal and very private entertainment for men who paid a hefty price for the extra attention.

“Dozens of times, but I’ve held back. I wanted to make sure she was the real thing.”

Paul’s statement was an indication of why I trusted the man. There’d been many a law enforcement agency that had endeavored to slide in an undercover officer, attempting to bring me down.

As if that was possible.

I took a sip of my drink, my cock twitching. How long had it been since I’d enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman? Too long. Maybe tonight was the night to engage in a little extracurricular activity. “Have her cage brought closer.”

He didn’t need a reason why nor did he hesitate before motioning for one of his employees, who came over quickly. “Bring number nine closer,” he instructed.

Nine. My lucky number. This could prove to be very enjoyable. She was dressed in what appeared to be a warrior’s costume, complete with thigh-high leather boots, her tight corset highlighting her voluptuous hourglass figure.

As the pulley was turned, several of the members vocalized their displeasure. I could understand why they’d enjoyed her performance and why they were disappointed her cage was taken away from their purview.

With the redhead’s long legs and seductive movements, even in the confined space, she seemed to enjoy the limelight more than most of the women. As she gyrated, wrapping her hands around the bars, I moved to the edge of my seat.

“I think you will enjoy the song as well as her performance,” he stated before walking away.

Only seconds later, another selection of music began to play.

I laughed softly to myself. I couldn’t have chosen a better piece of music for her myself. ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me.’ I sat back, sliding down in my seat as the cage finally landed in front of me. She was close enough I could almost reach out and touch her.

But that would wait.

I always took what I craved, but in this instance, I would show at least some restraint.

As she began to dance, undulating her body as she held onto the bars, I took a deep breath.

She was indeed a creature so beautiful that keeping her as my personal possession would be a jewel in my thorny crown.

I was drawn to her for inexplicable reasons other than just her stunning physique and obvious attitude.

She knew she commanded the small stage, using what God had given her as a weapon. The thought was riveting.

After a full minute, I motioned for Paul again. As he leaned down, I couldn’t take my eyes off her performance for even a second.

“What’s her name?”

“Dahlia.”

“Interesting. Does she have a story?”

Paul chuckled. “Don’t they all? She’s trying to pay her way through college. A side job to make ends meet.”

Yes, of course. Whether or not that was true didn’t matter.

I scooted my chair even closer as she tossed her long, flaming red hair from side to side.

If she cared about my presence at that point or knew the identity of the person she was dancing for, she didn’t react in any way.

Her performance and attitude were fascinating, dragging the darkness dwelling inside me closer to the surface.

No one ignored me.

Every employee was told who they worked for and what to expect, yet she didn’t seem to care I was paying close attention to her.

Her attitude pushed my level of intrigue even higher.