Sex with Vanessa is even better than I imagined. I can’t get enough. Thankfully, she seems to feel the same way.
Unfortunately, after about twenty-four hours of rolling in the sheets, we both have to leave the bedroom to handle business. And while I don’t particularly care for Vanessa’s idea for me to hand her over to her father, I don’t have any better ones.
That’s how we ended up in the basement tonight, with her being tied to a chair.
“Don’t even think about restraining her wrists,” I warn Titus when he picks up the stack of zip ties from the workbench.
Titus oversees all the guards. He had a come to Jesus meeting with them about not saying a word to anyone about what they see or hear while in my service. Then he picked the three he trusts the most to join us for part one of our plan.
“It’s okay, Dante,” Vanessa says softly, even though I know that’s a lie. Her palms slide forward ironing out invisible wrinkles in the lap of her simple lavender dress. After having her wrists bound with duct tape by those assholes who kidnapped her, I can’t imagine she would want to relive that, even to pull off a convincing performance for her father.
“No. Just keep your hands behind the chair,” I instruct her. “He won’t need to see the back of it.”
“It’s fine. Just gag me and restrain my wrists and ankles. We can’t risk any mistakes selling this big of a lie to my father. Being cautious and overly paranoid about every little thing is how he’s managed to stay alive this long.”
“Are you sure you can handle those things, though?”
“We haven’t had a chance to explore this topic yet, but I don’t mind being tied up if it’s you who is restraining me.”
“Is that right?”
“Besides, it’ll be nice to replace the memories from the other night with something…better.”
If I couldn’t grasp the sultry meaning behind her words, her hard nipples poking through her cotton dress would’ve done the trick.
“I’m more than happy to oblige in replacing those memories after we finish this call, butterfly.” Going over to Titus, I snatch the handful of plastic from his hands. “I’ll take care of the ties.”
“Go for it,” he agrees. “I’m still not sure who you two think you’re gonna fool here.”
“You and the three guards just need to stand around looking stern and keeping an eye on Vanessa, as if you expect her to try to bolt. She’ll be acting the part of a hostile captive who hates me and would rather be anywhere but here in my torture dungeon.”
“Good luck with that, boss.” He chuckles. “Right now, she looks like she’s begging for your dick with her pointy nipples and thighs wide open.”
Hearing his remark, Vanessa quickly snaps her knees together. “Sorry. Give me some tissue to stuff in my bra?”
“I’ve got you,” I assure her as I head for the back of her chair. Vanessa offers me both wrists that I wrap the plastic zip tie around and fasten loosely. So loose she could easily shake them off if she wanted. “That feel okay?”
She nods her head and rolls her shoulders. “Yes.”
Walking around to the front of her chair, I kneel down to clasp her right ankle to one chair leg with the plastic ties, then the left while Vanessa watches me work silently.
“Good?”
“Yes.” She sounds a little breathless now, like she is enjoying being at my mercy.
Pulling my blue silk handkerchief from the front pocket of my suit, I rip it in half to make two pieces. I fold the first half into a small rectangle then slide it down the front of Vanessa’s dress, into her bra cup. She gasps when my fingers brush over her nipples before covering them with the material on her right breast, then the left.
Vanessa squirms as I stand up, taking a few steps back to look at my handiwork, making sure the lines of the newly added fabric aren’t showing through her dress.
“No more nipples showing, and with the ankles attached to the chair legs, it looks like you’re shyly, desperately trying to clamp your thighs together but can’t. All that’s missing from making you the perfect victim is a gag. Unless you think it’s too much?”
“No. Gag me. The less I talk, the less chance I say something to fuck this up.”
“Something like, Dante, I hate you, but I love your tongue. Will you pretty please lick my pussy while I’m your powerless captive?”
Vanessa rolls her eyes but smiles. “Right. Exactly that.”
Pinching my bottom lip between my finger and thumb as I imagine it, I tell her, “Just so you know, if we manage to convince the bastard on this call, I plan to do just that to you before cutting the ties.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Titus mutters from behind me. “This is never going to work. She’s about to make a puddle of pussy juice in that chair.”
“He’s not wrong,” Vanessa replies. She then whispers loudly, “And I’m not wearing any panties.”
Every male in the room groans at those five fucktastic words, myself included. I know exactly what game she’s playing at now. She wouldn’t have said that for them to hear if she didn’t want them to know her secret too. Vanessa doesn’t just want me to lick her pussy while she’s tied up; she wants to let them watch me eat her out.
“My butterfly is an exhibitionist. And since I don’t mind showing the world exactly who she belongs to, I’ll gladly indulge her fetish after the call.”
Vanessa pretends to look surprised and dismayed, already breaking out the acting skills.
“Gag her with something so we can get this over with,” I instruct Titus.
“Fuck yes,” he agrees as he turns back to the workbench.
“Preferably something clean,” I add.
“How about this?” He turns around holding up the two-foot long, nylon bungee strap.
“If you wrap it around two or three times then hook the ends together it could work,” I agree. “Vanessa?”
“Better than the splintery, bloody rope over there,” she replies, nodding her head toward the pile on the end of the workbench.
“Fasten it, then I want the three guards to get into position, one standing on either side of her and one behind. Titus with me.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Titus agrees. He jerks his chin to call the three guards over, then positions them before stepping behind Vanessa to secure the rope. When she stares at me while opening her mouth wide for him, I nearly postpone this whole thing until after I fuck her throat to remind her who it belongs to.
After.
After I lick her pussy and get so hard when she comes on my tongue that I’m ready to explode, I’ll fuck her throat. Yeah, I wouldn’t mind letting my men see that encounter either.
I have a feeling that after all this shit with Petrov is over, Vanessa and I are going to be giving my employees more free shows than they’ll know what to do with.
Clearing my throat, I wrench my eyes from Titus fitting the rope to Vanessa’s mouth to scroll through the contacts in my phone, searching for the number I’ve only used a handful of times since I took over for my father.
When I glance up again, the rope is wrapped around Vanessa’s head twice, cinched tight so it forces her lips and teeth apart. Oh, hell yeah, I’m going to leave that in place while I eat her out.
“Everyone ready?” I ask. The guards nod and so does Vanessa. We hold each other’s gaze as we both take a deep breath, ready to get into our roles. Vanessa’s warm eyes now glare at me with a bone-deep hatred. I know it’s actually for her father, but it stings a little.
And I know I have to put on my own mask of indifference for her now. For a few minutes, I need to act like she’s nothing but a prized possession to be owned or sold at my sole discretion. An object like my cell phone that I can toss aside, easily replace, or trash without a second of guilt. During this call, Vanessa can’t be the woman I love, but an insignificant pawn being used in a bigger game.
Eager to get this over with, I make a video call to Yuri Petrov, certain he’ll be too curious not to answer my call.
It rings several times before his face fills the screen, my own tiny image in the bottom corner. His thick head of hair and full beard are both snow white when they used to be light blonde, just like Vanessa’s.
“Dante. You’re still alive after that awful bombing. What a relief,” he says sarcastically, his face expressionless, not giving anything away. Not even blinking at the mention of his own attack that killed so many innocent men and women. I don’t sleep well every night even though I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it. I’m not sure how Yuri Petrov even closes his eyes without seeing the faces of all those he hurt for the hell of it. I hope they haunt him, if not now then in his afterlife that’s just around the corner. The girls’ mothers shouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. They didn’t deserve what he did to them. My daughters didn’t deserve to lose their mothers before they even knew them because this motherfucker had some vendetta against me. And if Vanessa hadn’t spoken up, she would’ve joined them in their graves.
Forcing those thoughts down, I try to keep my face devoid of emotion, refusing to show him my anger, my sadness, my guilt for even a second.
“I know it was your fucking bomb, and that Lochlan and I were the targets. But as you can see, I’m alive and well. And I’m also in possession of something I believe you lost.” I quickly steer the conversation where I want it to go, to Vanessa, before I promise to rip his head off his shoulder or some other violent threat he’ll see coming from a mile away.
“Is that right? What possession would that be?” he asks, playing dumb.
“I always wondered what happened to that daughter of yours. Katia was her name years ago. She goes by Vanessa now…”
The old man’s left eye twitches, an uncontrollable tick that lets me know I hit a nerve. “Her name is Katia. How the fuck did you end up with her anyway?”
Yes, I do believe he’s angry at Vanessa for not only running away but being smart enough to never allow him to find her. God, and now Madison is doing the same damn thing to me. I will find her, though.
“You’re really going to pretend like you didn’t send her to spy on me, to tell you where I would be and when so you could try to take me out?”
That exaggeration was Vanessa’s idea, reminding me to think like a gangster—that she came to my hotel with ulterior motives and played the long game. I know that’s bullshit, but if I had found out who she was on my own, I may have considered her a spy.
“I haven’t seen her in over twenty years!” Petrov raises his voice, letting out some of his frustration with her before reeling it back in, straightening his red tie as he gets his emotions back under control. “I didn’t send her to spy on you. Hell, I didn’t even know she was still alive until recently.”
Until recently when his men were about to rape and kill her to hurt me.
“Oh, she’s still alive,” I assure him with a smirk. “For now.”
“How did she end up with you, Salvato? How did you find her?”
He’s so damn curious. The man hates not having all the answers.
“I didn’t find her. And it’s a long story.” Now, I feed him the lie, using the name she goes by, not the one he gave her to piss him off. “Sweet little Vanessa thought she could walk out on me while I was distracted by the bombing, weeks before our contract was fulfilled. My men were on their way to snatch her back up when yours swooped in first. They followed them and you know how that turned out.”
“What contract?” he snaps, jumping right over the reminder of his six dead employees, as if they don’t matter.
“Kozlov didn’t tell you?” I ask, even though I’m certain he has by now. “I paid off her slacker boyfriend’s debts with Kozlov in exchange for seventy-six days and nights with his woman. Vanessa hated the idea, but he jumped right on board. I had no idea I was in possession of such a prize until the other night.”
“That’s not the story I’ve heard,” Yuri mutters, face sour like he ate a bowl of lemons. “Yes, I knew about you paying off some loser’s debts, but Mitch claimed that you and my daughter are not only…intimate but sickeningly so. He says you’re obsessed with her.”
Obsessed, sure. But how the fuck would Mitch know we’ve been sickeningly intimate? He’s a double-crossing son of a bitch, that’s why. I knew I couldn’t trust that motherfucker. He’s a problem for another time.
“Intimate? He thinks I’ve been intimate with her?” I turn the video angle on the phone around so he can see Vanessa tied up in the chair, gagged, and scowling with rage before quickly turning the camera view back to my face. “The only time she lets me touch her is when I threaten to put bullets in the people she cares about. Of course she claims she doesn’t enjoy our trysts, but we both know how women can be. They don’t know what they want until we give it to them.”
I know Vanessa would cut my dick off if I tried to force myself on her. In Yuri’s world, though, that’s how he and his men treat their women.
“Since she ran out before I was done with her, I’ve had to keep her tied up to make sure she doesn’t stray again,” I add to sell our lie.
“Is that right?” the bastard asks. “Who does she care about so much? That Mitch fucker?”
I’m not surprised that he skipped right over me admitting to forcing myself on his daughter or restraining her. Instead, he wants to get right down to her weaknesses and how he can exploit them for his own bullshit.
“Mitch? Not anymore. But there are a few co-workers she wants to protect. And she gets real nasty whenever I threaten her precious little boy.”
“Her boy?” Petrov’s widening eyes confirm that he didn’t know about Cole yet.
“Yeah, her son, Cole. You knew about him, right?” Before he responds with a lie, I call him out. “Oh, fuck! You didn’t until just now. How the hell did she not only hide from you but keep the kid away for twenty goddamn years?”
“Her son, he’s twenty years old? How…” Now his face pales a little when he realizes she got pregnant right after running away. I really hope Madison won’t be that reckless.
“That’s right. Her son is twenty, going to college on the east coast. Vanessa still thinks he’s her baby boy even though he’s bigger than I am. You see, I’ve done a thorough investigation into him to get all the details I need to twist Vanessa’s arm.” His green eyes, the color of Vanessa’s go distant, as if trying to imagine the boy. Just as we hoped, the mention of a grandson distracts him from everything else. An heir is the one thing he’s always wanted, but never had. I wouldn’t be surprised if not having a blood relative to take over the family business is the only reason the ornery bastard is still alive and kicking.
“What I didn’t know about Vanessa, until one of your men begged me not to hurt her before I killed him, was that she’s your daughter.”
“Bullshit,” the old man spits, blinking his eyes clear as his head returns to the conversation to call me a liar.
“You think I’m lying? I thought you sent her as a fucking spy! She lived with me in my penthouse for weeks. If I had known she belonged to you, I would’ve offered a trade sooner. That’s why I’m calling now…”
His eyes narrow, trying to figure out my angle. “What are you playing at, Salvato?”
He uses my hate-filled last name just like Vanessa used to do at first. I loathed the sound of it then because I wanted her to know me for more than the mafia lifestyle, and to still want me for all that I am. I wasn’t sure if it was possible to change her mind. Thank fuck, she did.
“I’ll tell you exactly what I want, Petrov. I want a truce.”
“What are the terms?”
“I’ll either keep her and do what I want with her while you try your best to kill me, or you can have her back. If you want her back, though, you’ll have to back the fuck off me and my fentanyl trade. You have until this time tomorrow to decide.”
I press the red button to end the call on him, ensuring I got the last word in, then let out a sigh of relief.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Vanessa shrugs, as if to say, we gave it a shot, and that the ball’s in his court now.
And my balls are about to be in her mouth.
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