Chapter 23 Thalia
I don’t try to convince Ale to help me escape for the rest of the day. Her loyalty to Silas is evident. Loyalty is the greatest form of respect in our world. If put in the same situation, I know Osiel and Ricky would remain loyal to me as well.
Instead of the escape plan, Ale and I walk to the end of the road, and I help her haul a Christmas tree from the back of her truck. I can’t help but wonder how Olivia and the kids are decorating for the holidays. I’m zoned out, placing tiny hooks through the decorative balls. I barely notice Ale’s question. She coughs loudly before repeating herself.
“Does that tattoo have any significance?” I look down at the cage tattoo I often get complimented on. I refocus on the task at hand and place the decorative balls on the tree.
“The tattoo is always evolving, I guess. When I first got it, it meant one thing, but as I’ve grown, it’s morphed into other meanings.” She nods in understanding. That was the truth.
Right now, I feel like I am trapped here with Silas, but by choice. The last few days, I have experienced feelings I thought were void in me. Feelings of longing, for him and for my family. There’s this need to be vulnerable and ask him the questions I know may show that soft part of me, the part I protect in cages, with high walls and barbed wire fences. It is the part of me I hide from everyone, the part of me that cares. Cares about being loved. Loved by Silas. Loved by my family and by Lucia.
It is easier to escape the feeling of rejection if I avoid every situation where that was a probability. I avoid serious relationships so I won’t feel the heartbreak that comes with love. I avoid fighting for my daughter because of the fear that she, too, will reject me. I could have fought for Lucia sooner. I could have tried harder, but there has always been a lingering feeling of not being enough for her. I am able to protect her, but I am afraid of disappointing her. I didn’t risk the chance of being a bad mother by giving her the only mother figure I knew. I barely register the tears until Ale’s arm falls on mine.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft. I wipe my eyes.
“Yes. Sorry. The tree just reminds me of my family, and I didn’t realize how much I would miss them.”
“Of course, you’d miss them. They are your people.”
“Is Silas your people?” The question erupts from my desire to know the man who has occupied my heart for so long. I know absolutely nothing about him.
“Silas and I grew up together. When our fathers were—” She lingers there while her eyes shift to the side. “When our fathers were killed, our bond as cousins morphed into something deeper. We were all we had, and we had to work through everything to rebuild what our parents had built for us.” My heart sinks. Ivan took her father from her, too. I push back the pain forming at the back of my throat.
“I’m sorry.” I have carried around the weight of what Ivan did as my burden.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Ale says.
“No, but I wish I could have seen his plan ahead of time. Maybe I could have warned Silas.”
“Would you have?” Ale continues placing balls on the tree. She asks in a nonchalant manner, but I can feel the weight of it.
“My father was not good to me. In fact, the day they lowered him into the ground was one of the happiest days of my life. I would kiss the feet of the man who killed him a thousand times over. That’s how much I hated him.” I could give this woman a nine-hour course on why I hated Ivan and how he had been fucking shit up for me since before I was even born. Ale just gives me an empathetic smile.
We finish decorating the tree, and I walk with her to the graveyard and let her tell me about her father. She lays a pot of poinsettias on her father’s grave before returning inside. The night falls and paints the sky with orange and purple. We’re halfway through The Exorcist when I hear the door slam open. Silas walks in and stares at us. I’m wearing my black silk shorts and camisole pajama set. His eyes narrow to the blanket Ale and I are sharing. He grinds his teeth and stares at Ale, who has already jumped to her feet.
“The shipment’s here. Go load the truck.” A smile tugs at the corner of Ale’s mouth.
“Until next time, mi reina .” She bends at the waist, and I let out a small chuckle.
“There will be no fucking next time,” Silas growls. She salutes him and continues walking. I let my smile drop when I look back at Silas.
He’s shirtless under a bulletproof vest, with dark jeans and boots. I try not to stare at the defined abs hidden behind the vest. The moment the door closes and Ale is out of sight, Silas walks toward me. His firm grip wraps around my arm as he pulls me up to my feet.
“Get showered and dressed. We have company.” I pull my arm from his grip and glare at him.
“What happened to ‘Hello? How are you?’” I say, mimicking a TikTok Alma and I used to laugh at. Silas doesn’t find the same humor in it. He drags me up the stairs to the bedroom. I yank myself free from his touch.
“Strip,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Maybe we need to discuss boundaries, my love .” I square my shoulders, ready to protest, when his hands wrap around my throat.
“You want boundaries? Here’s my boundary. I will fuck you when and how I want. Every single hole of your body belongs to me. Till death do we part, mija. Hasta que te mueras, o hasta que me mates .”
He pushes his firm body into mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off it. My hands go up to his wrist, and he tightens his grip around my throat. My traitorous body reacts by building waves in my belly. He releases me and repeats his early demand.
“Strip.”
I step back from him and remove my shorts. His dark eyes watch as I lift the camisole over my head. I reach behind me and unfasten my bra. I let it fall, revealing my breasts. And I watch his eyes darken at the hard peaks forming, aching for his rough hands to caress them. I hook my fingers into my thong and slowly pull the fabric down my thighs. The waves begin growing, and I can feel my own arousal as I stand naked before him.
It takes everything in me to walk away from his heated gaze. I step into the glass shower and close the door. I turn the dial and let scorching hot water pour over me. Desperate to burn through my need to be touched by him. I quickly wash my body and hair before returning to the bedroom. My cunt still throbs, and at this very moment, I might even beg him. I release the towel and walk toward him.
He’s sitting on the bed, holding a familiar piece of fabric. It’s a piece of lingerie I had packed for my weekend getaway. A black sheer lace teddy. He hands it to me and walks out of the room. I pull the thin material on. Desire builds in me, and as much as I want to tell Silas to fuck off after leaving me alone, I also need him inside me. I need to feel his muscular body caressing mine and his filthy words saturating me—the euphoric release that comes with his volatile touch. I need him to fuck me back to sanity.
“I’ve got the perfect accessories,” Silas says, returning with a velvet box in his hand.
He opens the box and holds out a black studded choker with a silver ring that dangles in the center. It has a hex lock behind the neck that he uses to fasten it around my neck. My body goes limp when he brushes my hair back. His fingers linger on the sensitive skin.
“This will go around your neck,” he whispers from behind me. I fall against him. Fuck me, Silas. Fuck me like your good girl.
My ass rubs against the erection forming in his pants. Then I feel as his fingers run over my back hole through the thin material. My body tightens, and when I try to move, he pushes me back down onto the bed in front of me.
“And this will go in your tight little hole.” My eyes widen, and my body fights in terror.
“No. Silas, please. I’ve never…” I plead.
“Relax your body. I’m not fucking it yet.” I take in several deep breaths and shut my eyes. Silas massages my cheeks and pulls the fabric to the side. A sense of excitement builds with the struggle and present sense of fear. Though there’s apprehension about his size, there is also thrill in the thought of him claiming my back hole.
“Shhhh. Calmate, diablita. I told you I’m owning every one of these holes.” He runs his finger over my folds to my back hole.
“Mmmm. Did Daddy’s little whore miss him?” He continues to spread my wetness from my pussy to my back hole until I feel his finger enter me. I gasp, and he places a hand on my back.
“Breathe and relax your body,” he says, coaching me through the process. I take in a deep breath, and he continues to slide his finger in and out of my tight hole. He adds another finger and stretches me. I suck in a breath as he fills me. The waves in my stomach turn ravenous as he thrusts his fingers into me. This man has come to claim my soul. To break me in the most damning of ways.
Just as I begin adjusting to the savage way he’s fucking my ass, Silas stops. Cold metal replaces his fingers, stretching me wide as I scream out. I grasp the comforter and cry out at the pain exploding inside me. He spits on my ass, and his hard palm comes down on my ass cheek. I cry into the bed as my body tries to adjust to the foreign object he’s placed in my asshole. He pulls me up, and I wobble to my feet, adjusting to the pressure from the plug. My thighs are slick from the lube he used. He turns me around and pushes a finger against the toy.
“This will loosen you for later, when my cock’s driving into this tight ass.” He sets me on the bed before bringing me the highest heels I packed, and I shake my head.
“Put the fucking shoes on, or I’ll remove the plug and replace it with my knife.”
I put the shoes on one by one. The plug feels awkward, but I relax my ass and find a bit of comfort. He pulls me to my feet and loops his arm in mine.
“Our guests are dying to meet you.” Before I can protest, he drags me down the stairs. My knees pull together when I see our audience. Three sicarios stand in the living room, watching as I descend the staircase. On the table sits large bricks of cocaine, a scale, and racks of money.
“Gentlemen, this is my wife.” Each of the three men bows their head out of respect for Silas, but I feel humiliated. If they recognize me, they say nothing, as they find their places on the chairs placed in front of the table. Silas pulls on the metal rings around my throat, and I follow him on shaky heels toward the fireplace on the other end of the room.
“Kneel,” he says, and I stare at him. I shake my head, and he loops his finger into the collar and tugs my ear toward his mouth.
“Kneel, or I’ll put a leash on you and drag you around the entire city.” I lower myself so I’m sitting on my knees. He runs his hand over my head and gently pats it.
“Good girl.” That familiar feeling of desperation hits me at his praise. For the first time, I accept the arousal pulling between my thighs. I accept the perverse nature in me and the desires that form in my head. I embrace my need to be humiliated. To be owned. That is the only way I will find euphoric release.
He grabs an AK-47 from the mantel above the fireplace, and I watch as he strides back toward the men. Fantasies form in my mind about the way he’ll claim me in front of them. Just a month ago, he saw me bring a man to his knees with my heel in his throat. Now, I am kneeling for him.
I should feel degraded at the way he is parading me around like a cheap whore. I should be worried about the disgrace he is bringing to the infamous title I had conjured in his absence. I should feel a lot of things that society would deem as normal and even label this treatment as abuse. What I feel, though, is thrill. Need . Desperation.
I want Silas to claim me. To knock me from my high title and demote me to his slut. His dirty slut. My clit throbs against the lace fabric, and the lower I sink into my knees, the deeper the plug pushes into me. Memories of his veiny and pierced shaft fucking me in the graveyard replay in my mind. I can barely hear what’s being said between the men. Sex demons chant in my brain, and I rock on the floor against the friction in my asshole.
“Thalia!” Silas shouts, and I look up to see him and the other men watching me. He curls his fingers toward him.
“Crawl to Daddy,” he says.
I lean forward and place my hands in front of me. I move my legs and arms slowly across the floor as I crawl to my husband. My eyes don’t leave his, as everyone else in the room fades away. The closer I get to him, the more I want them to watch me. Watch me crawling on my knees like a desperate slut. I am desperate. I can feel my desperation leaking through the thin fabric and rubbing against my enlarged clit.
I am desperate for him to use me like a toy, just so I can relieve myself of the pressure building between my thighs. I’m almost to his feet when I hear a gunshot. My body stiffens, and I halt at his feet. I stop and turn my head to the side just as a body falls to the floor.