Chapter Two
Donny Rae Taylor
I had been in this room for three days and finally my body gave into exhaustion, and I was able to lie down and fall asleep last night.
Waking up to a silence so heavy it felt like it was physically pressing down on my chest with the kind of quiet you only find in places that are built to keep the rest of the world out.
My head was throbbing with a dull, rhythmic ache that pulsed behind my eyes, and my wrists were stinging from where the ropes had been cinched too tightly against my skin during the ride.
For a long time, I didn't even try to open my eyes or move a muscle.
I just lay there trying to convince myself that the warehouse and the black bag and the cold voice of that man were all part of some twisted nightmare I was about to wake up from.
However, the smell of expensive cologne and floor wax was too real, and the softness of the bed beneath me was a far cry from the lumpy mattress in my father's cramped apartment.
I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position, my head spinning as I took in the room, I had been placed in.
It was a masterpiece of dark wood, marble, and silk, with high ceilings and heavy velvet curtains that blocked out most of the moonlight.
Everything in the space looked like it cost more than I would make in five lifetimes, from the polished furniture to the intricate rugs on the floor.
It was the luxury I had only seen on television, but instead of feeling impressed, I felt as if I were suffocating.
I touched the silk sheets and remembered the way that man had looked at me in that car, his eyes dark and cold like the depths of the ocean, telling me that I belonged to him now had me scared but curious.
The memory of my father's betrayal hit me all at once, a sharp pain in my chest that felt worse than any physical wound, and I had to fight the urge to scream.
I stood up on shaky legs and made my way toward the door, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I thought it might burst. I reached for the handle and turned it, but it didn't budge an inch, confirming what I already knew deep down in my soul.
I was a prisoner in a mansion that was more of a fortress than a home, trapped by a man who had bought me like a piece of property from my shitty-ass father.
I moved toward the window and pulled the curtain back just a fraction, looking out over a sprawling estate that was crawling with men in suits who had guns tucked into their waistbands.
This wasn't the hood I grew up in, where the danger was loud and messy. What did my dad get me into?
I sank back onto the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my own father had offered me up to save his skin.
He had looked at me my whole life and seen nothing but a burden, and the moment things got hot for him, he used me as a get-out-of-jail-free card.
I felt a hot tear track down my cheek. If I was going to survive this, I couldn't be the weak little girl my father thought I was. I had to find a way to make this work.
The sound of a sharp knock at the door made me jump nearly a foot in the air, my breath catching in my throat as the lock clicked open. A man in a sharp black suit stepped into the room, his face an unreadable mask of professional indifference as he looked at me.
"Mr. Masters has requested your presence for dinner in one hour," he stated, his voice smooth and devoid of any warmth.
"A bath will be prepared for you, and you will find appropriate attire waiting on the bed.
Please ensure you are ready on time, as Mr. Masters does not like to be kept waiting for his meals. "
He didn't wait for me to respond before he turned on his heel and walked back out, the door clicking shut and locking behind him once again.
I walked into the bathroom and found a tub large enough to swim in, with steam rising from the hot water that had already been drawn for me.
I stripped off my dirty clothes and slid into the heat, letting the water soak into my skin as I tried to wash away the warehouse's scent and the feeling of those ropes.
I stayed under the water until my skin was pruned, dreading the moment I would have to face the man who had claimed me.
When I stepped back into the bedroom, I spotted a black dress lying out on the bed that was so beautiful it hurt to look at. It was silk and lace, designed to hug every curve of my body, and next to it was a pair of heels that looked like they were made of glass.
A woman came in a few minutes later, carrying a kit of hair tools and makeup, and she went to work on me without saying a single word.
She brushed out my ginger curls until they shone like copper and applied just enough makeup to make my eyes pop and my lips look full and glossed.
By the time she was done, I barely recognized the girl staring back at me in the full-length mirror.
I looked like I belonged in this mansion, like I was born to walk these marble floors and wear these expensive clothes, but the fear in my eyes gave me away.
I looked like a queen on the outside, but on the inside, I was still just a girl from the hood who had been sold out by the only person I was supposed to be able to trust.
? ? ?
The butler returned exactly an hour later and led me down a series of long, winding hallways that were lined with expensive art and golden light.
Every step I took in those heels felt like I was walking toward my execution, and the higher we went into the heart of the house, the more I felt the weight of the Master's name pressing down on me.
We finally reached a set of massive double doors that opened into a dining room that was larger than my father's entire apartment.
Dominic was already there, standing at the head of a long mahogany table with a glass of scotch in his hand, watching me with an intensity that made my knees feel weak.
He didn't say anything at first. He just let his eyes travel over me from head to toe, a slow, predatory smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Sit down, Donny," he instructed, his voice sounding like velvet over gravel as he gestured toward the chair at the other end of the table.
I moved toward the seat, my movements stiff and careful, and I sat down while a server appeared out of nowhere to fill my water glass.
The table was set with enough silverware to confuse me, and the smell of the food was incredible, but my stomach was in such tight knots that I didn't think I could swallow a single bite.
I looked across the table at Dominic, who was watching me with a calm, dominant expression that let me know he was in total control of everything happening in this room.
I wanted to scream at him and tell him I hated him, but I couldn't find the words, so I just sat there in the silence and waited for him to speak.
"I know you're sitting there thinking I'm a monster, and I'm not gonna try to convince you otherwise," Dominic stated, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table while he held my gaze.
"However, you need to realize that the life you had is gone, and the only reason you're still breathing is that I saw something in you that I wanted to keep.
My father wants an heir, and the Masters' name needs a future that doesn't involve the kind of trash your father tried to pull.
You're gonna be my wife, and you're gonna carry my children, and in return, you're gonna have a life that most women would kill for.
" Dominic spoke with such certainty that it made my head spin.
His voice never rose, yet it always carried a heavy weight of authority, making it impossible to argue with him.
I looked at him, my heart racing as I tried to process the fact that he was talking about my entire future like it was a business deal he had already closed.
"Why me?" I managed to whisper, my voice cracking under the pressure of the moment. "There are a million girls in this city who would love to be in this house. Why take someone who doesn't want to be here?"
Dominic just smiled, a dark and beautiful expression that made my heart skip a beat for all the wrong reasons.
"Because I don't want a girl who's looking for a come-up, Donny.
I want someone with a spine and someone who hasn't been touched by the filth of this game yet.
You're pure, and you're mine, and that's all that matters. "
The dinner continued in a tense, electric silence, and as I looked at the man across from me, I realized that my life had changed forever the moment he pulled that bag off my head.