Page 104 of The Mafia's Bride
I don’t remember leaving the auction. I don’t remember the car ride here.
Glancing down, I see my arms and torso bound against a dining room chair, facing outward. The rope digs painfully into my skin and my dress is bunched up around my hips.
The fireplace is so hot my body is sweating all over.
Those pills must have been strong.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Dom walks from the kitchen, a glass of something brown in one hand, a poker in the other.
A fire poker.
Oh,fuck.
“You drugged me.”
He shakes a small plastic bag, full of those little pink pills that his family peddles. “It took a few of these to get you out for so long. I wasn’t expecting that.”
I figured as much. “Reformed party-girl for the win,” I quip, voice scratching. My head is throbbing, and the heat is making me nauseous. It’s been a while since I’ve had to fight off a hangover.
Where is Lex?
“What the fuck is this?” I snap, twisting against the restraints. “Some evil villain bullshit? Tie up the girl, wait for the hero to get killed? You’re cliché as fuck.”
Dom rears back, slapping me across the face. My chair teeters and my cheek explodes with pain, a groan slipping from my lips.
When I right myself, my face throbs in agony and Dom is at the fire, the poker deep into the flames. The flames leap over the iron, tearing into it hungrily.
Terror crushes my lungs, but I keep still. Fuck this guy. I won’t let him see me scared. He’s not worth it.
“We’re going to have to work on your mouth, Red.” Dom snorts. “Your husband might like your bite but it’s unbecoming for a wife of the organization. I’ll get you a muzzle before I let you embarrass me to the family.”
I spit a glob of blood onto the ground.
He makes a disgusted look that has me smiling. My face constricts and I know it’s swelling from his hit. Everything throbs, but I focus on Dom.
I know the minute I take my eyes off of him, he’ll hurt me.
He moves closer, smelling like blood and booze and all kinds of things that make me think of a murderer in the night. My stomach rolls, and I fight against the instinct to recoil.
Gripping my chin, he tilts my face to lock eyes with me.
“You should have been mine.” He drops me, rocking back on his heels. “All of this? Should have been mine. The business, the leadership. A wife like you? Fuck. I bet you screw better than any two-cent hooker on the corner.”
My body trembles because the pure lust in his voice is telling.
He’s leering at me, and I can’t even cover myself.
A fingernail trails down my bare shoulder, and I shudder with revulsion. My mouth waters, vomit trying to come up, but I will it back down.
I summon the coldness Maeve always shows and stare the bastard down. He won’t see me afraid.
“I actually fuck like an expensive escort,” I quip, daring him to move closer. “The kind that only accepts black credit cards. And unfortunately for you, Lex is the best I’ve ever had. You’ll be a poor man’s imitation.”
I expect this slap. Dig at a man’s pride, his ego, sexual prowess, there’s going to be retaliation.
He hits the same spot, my vision going black for a brief moment.
I cry out, blood gushing from my nose. It’s not broken, but hell, it smarts. He leans forward, smashing my cheeks between his meaty hands and shakes me. Hard.
