Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Taylor stands up, spitting fire.
“No, he never said that you were a den of sex traffickers. He said that you guys own a string of bars and clubs. X-rated ones, but still, he never said anything about trafficking women!”
I shrug.
“The two go hand in hand,” is my growl. “High rollers expect beautiful women in a club setting, and I’m satisfying a need by procuring top-shelf product for my best customers.”
Taylor’s jaw drops to the floor.
“You can’t be serious. You’re talking about women like a wine seller discussing alcohol. Top shelf? What the hell? This is totally illegal.”
I nod.
“It is, and that’s why we’re known as the Genovese crime family. I’m the don and my son is one of my lieutenants. Is that so hard to believe?”
With that, Taylor’s jaw snaps shut and she says nothing. Realization is beginning to dawn on that pretty face as the truth of the situation reveals itself.
“Holy shit,” she whispers, covering her face with her hands. “Fuck me.”
“I’d be happy to,” I say in a low tone. “In fact, that’s why I purchased you.”
But then, Taylor’s head jerks up, those brown curls bouncing as her eyes spark fiercely.
“You can’t do this.” She gets up and runs toward the front door before tugging on the handle. Of course, it doesn’t budge and even more eerie, there’s no visible locking mechanism. “What is this? Let me out!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I explain in a calm voice, finishing my drink. “Like I said, you belong to me now, and my son’s already told you that this place is like a fortress, the better to prevent young women from escaping. It’s about time you understand what that really means.”
Tears pool in Taylor’s eyes. “But I thought I was a houseguest!”
I nod.
“You are. You’re just not free to come and go as you like.”
Suddenly, an idea strikes and Taylor fumbles for her phone, staring at the screen. But then a frown pulls down her pretty features.
“Wait, why don’t I have service?”
I sigh.
“Like I said, honey, this townhouse is built like a fortress. There’s security everywhere, both invisible and visible. But even more, the security’s not just to keep intruders out. It’s also to keep young, impressionable women in, so I’ve installed signal blockers. There’s no way to connect to the network, and the premises have been securely locked down. This is your new home, Taylor, at least for the time being as I get what I paid for.”
She stares at me.
“And what did you pay for?” she asks in a low, trembling voice.
I smirk.
“You’ll see, sweetheart.” But then I glance at the grandfather clock by the entryway. “It’s late now, so I’ll let you get some sleep. But we’ll discuss this tomorrow at dinner, okay? Seven o’clock sharp. I’ll see you then, baby girl. Your suite’s upstairs, first door on the right. Good night.”
With that, I stalk off. I can feel Taylor’s eyes on my broad back as she watches me go. But I’m not alarmed because the beautiful woman is now my property, and it’s only a matter of time before she capitulates.
8
Taylor
After a restless night, I got up this morning and tried to make sense of things. Am I really a prisoner in Roman Genovese’s home? It seems far-fetched and utterly ludicrous, but as I crept around the mansion, I found that there was no way to escape. The doors were locked and I spotted several discreetly-placed cameras that seemed to track my every movement.
So after an entire day of investigation, now I sit in my bedroom, flummoxed. What the hell? This is the twenty-second century, and they can’t keep women prisoners anymore! Yet, my phone still has no service and I wonder if my friends have called the cops yet. Probably not. They likely think I’m in rural Missouri right now with no cell service. Ugh. I really am stuck here.
Beside me on the bed is a tiny black cocktail dress left here by Roman’s staff. Clearly, he wants me to wear this for dinner and I trail my fingers along the lacy bodice. It’s obviously very expensive, but it’s going to be tight on my curves too. Then again, that’s probably the point.
Sighing, I slip into the sexy dress and check myself out in the mirror. The neckline is a deep vee, highlighting the dark shadow between my enormous breasts. The fabric clings to my narrow waist before hugging my wide hips and I turn to the left and right to make sure there’s no unnecessary bunching. Then, a pair of black stilettos completes the look and I fluff out my brown curls with a sigh. I might as well look nice because if I’m going to be held prisoner, then I need to bring out the big guns. My looks are a part of that, and I definitely learned a thing or two about using them to my advantage while working at Club Z.