Page 47 of A Reaper's Devotion
Emily Craven didn’twant to die.
Fear crawled up her spine as it had many times these past few months since she had been taken.She didn’t know how long it had been, only that time had passed.The sun had set, come back up, and set again.
Not that her prison was a bad one.She was pretty sure prisons didn’t contain luxurious satin sheets, four-poster beds, and a vanity table complete with an assortment of luxury-brand cosmetics she wouldn’t dream of ever affording.
Her mother had warned her.If she tried to build a relationship with her father, it would only end in failure.How right her mother was.
And how depressing her situation had become, though it wasn’t that bad.She had gone from working in a café during the day and a bar at night, to serving one man—Dom Wylde.
She didn’t know a lot about him, other than rumors of him not being a very nice person, and a lot of other things.She knew he was her father’s enemy.
Nigel Craven was her father, and he was not a very patient man but also a hotheaded one.He was known for shooting first and asking questions later, and according to her mother, not very well-liked.
Dom, on the other hand, had the respect her father craved.She knew when his name was mentioned, men and women equally desired and feared him, and that was what her father wanted.
She was trying to get to know her father.Her parents had long ago divorced, but at one time, she was pretty sure she had loved her father.Her parents divorced when she was young, and she couldn’t exactly fill in the blanks.Her father sent her gifts, when he remembered.At least, she thought he had.
It was nearing three months now, and still no sign of her father.No ransom paid.She didn’t even know if Dom had asked for a ransom to be paid.All she knew was one moment, she was climbing into her car, and the next, she was waking up in her current prison room, and waiting on Dom Wylde.She knew it wasn’t a bad setup.
He didn’t make any demands of her, nothing out of the ordinary.In fact, he got her to sit with him after she had finished serving him.He demanded she spend time with him, so she ate with him.
And when he was done with his ...whatever this was, he would send her to her room, until he needed her again.
It was driving her crazy, because each time she was called to him, she couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last night or day of her life.She found it hard to focus.
All of her life, she’d been good—a good daughter, a good student, a good employee.She didn’t hurt people, nor was she mean to anyone.She tried her best at everything.
Now, she was trying to be a good kidnapped ...person, or victim, or whatever the hell she was.
Once again, she descended the staircase and hoped after all this time she’d get over these feelings.But alas, no.She was still freaking scared.Still upset.Still worried that when she walked into the dining room, he was going to kill her.She didn’t want to die.She had plans.
Not that they were very good plans, or even enlightening.She wanted to meet someone, fall in love, have a family.One day, she hoped to be a mother.As an only child, she spent a lot of time thinking about having a brother or sister.That was why she wanted a dozen kids, or at least four.She didn’t care if they were boys or girls, she just wanted them to be healthy.
Also, she hoped to one day get a dog or two.She wasn’t too fond of cats, but she adored dogs.Loved them.
She knew some people thought her wish for the future was lame and not very modern.Being a wife and a mother was nothing to scorn or to look down on.It was what she hoped for.
Her mother told her to aim higher.She wanted to do everything right.But she had no way of doing any of that while she was trapped in this prison ...although a very nice prison.Dom’s home was massive and full of every luxury, including a pool, not that she had used it.
She didn’t make any demands.She hadn’t even begged him to let her live.Some people would think she was lame or a doormat.She wasn’t sure which she would be, probably a lame doormat, because that was exactly how she felt.She was a lame doormat.If she died here, that would be on her headstone.
Stepping into the dining room, she spotted Dom.He was sitting at the head of the table, as usual.This was another little problem, and she wished there was something to hate about him.
She must have some serious daddy issues, because he was much older than her.She wasn’t sure by how much, but his thick, black hair had a few streaks of grey.There was a maturity to him.Of course, she also knew he was a man who did a lot of bad things.That was beside the point.Her father also did a lot of bad things.
Even still, she couldn’t get over the depth of his brown eyes.He made her nervous and curious whenever he looked at her.There were so many times she had to stop herself from asking what he was thinking.What kind of woman asked her kidnapper what he was thinking?With her luck lately, he was probably plotting her death.She being the nice kidnapped victim would probably help him out.Stupid, lame doormat.
“Your food is ready,” Dom said, without looking up from his cell phone.
She paused as he moved, and lifted the silver cover on her plate.“Oh, I thought you wanted me to serve you.”
There was no gun, no knife, and none of his soldiers were in the room to ...hurt her.She was going to live another day.
“You took too long,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”She gritted her teeth together.Why was she saying that?See, stupid lame doormat.
Clenching her hands into fists, she slowly moved closer and slid into the seat where her food was.She stared down at the plate, and her stomach rumbled.Spaghetti and meatballs had always been her favorite.She loved the ones her mother made, which didn’t have too much garlic.She loved garlic, but not when it was the only thing she could taste on the food.
