2.1

“Frizz,” He turned to his left, before shifting his glance to Raff by his right. His lips pressed to a menacing smile. “And you must be the man Frizz keeps talking about. I hear you're also the reason for my containers are filled tonight,”

Before Raff could respond, we were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door before the door opened. I didn't even have to turn, I knew who it was. Ana Lorena. One of the women that made up Tymon's precious harem. We were fourteen in number. 

The silver tray in her hands slightly trembled as she moved quietly past where I stood next to Tymon. Her fear was visible in her every movement as she set the tray and quietly excused herself.

Ana was only a few years younger than me and it was only her sixth month so far in this gilded cage, but she was someone very special to me.

She reminded me of someone from my past I fought to forget. Of my little sister Zoey. That was one of the reasons I felt overprotective of her. And as the days passed by she was close to breaking under the pressure of our tortured existence. Tymon loathed fragility and I knew it was only a matter of time before she was taken away.

“Gentlemen, please sit. We have a lot to talk about,” Tymon settled into a chair, pulling me down on his lap. My back ramrod as his calloused palm slipped under my dress, dragging the material of my dress higher and higher to the apex of my thighs, while his face buried in-between my breasts. “Fuck, I can't get enough of you, isn't that right?”

I simply nodded, because that was what was expected of me. I'd done this dance before, and it all ended with him staking his claim on me and giving his audience quite a show.

I could still feel his abuse from last night. He took what he needed, and devoured my aggressive fight along with my scream. His abuse didn't scare me like it did two years ago when I just arrived in this hellhole. The only reason I still fight is because my anger was all I had. My aggression was the only thing keeping me in this mansion, and it was precisely why, even after two years, I remained his prized possession. His favorite.

As much as I hated him and everything in this mansion, it was far better to live under his roof than inside the haunted walls of one of the mansions on the property where he kept the majority of his sex slaves.

I ignored the hard stare from Raff. The heat of his anger burned me. I could tell he wanted me, like every other man. The determination in his eyes was too strong; in moments like this, I was thankful I was Tymon's exclusive plaything. Untouchable.

Slowly I made a mental countdown to my humiliation when Raff suddenly cleared his throat and there was a tweak to his lips

“I don't mean to spoil your fun, but these women of yours, are they for sale? Or hire?”

A sly and overly arrogant smile tugged on Tymon's lips. “The women I'll show you tonight at the other mansion are all available for whatever you want,”

“No, I'm talking about the women here,” There was a tweak to his lips as his eyes met mine. “I'm talking about her,”

I wasn't sure if this was bravery or foolishness. 

Tymon frowned. “You're interested in sleeping with my woman,”

He took a glass of drink from the tray. “I’m definitely interested. I'd part ways with a lot of money for just a taste,”

Provoking Tymon was obvious foolishness which would only lead to his death.

Tymon snickered. His dark eyes narrowed on Raff. “Sorry, I don't give up my toys until I'm good and ready,”

Raff raised a brow challengingly. “So you're telling me no amount of money would tempt you to hand her over?”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, intensifying the tension. I'd expected Tymon to take out his gun and put him down. But the fact that he was hesitating was surprising. If not strange.

Something was amiss.

The door burst open abruptly, and Thomas stepped inside in a hurry. His gaze briefly swept from Frizz to Raffaelo before moving forward to whisper into Tymon's ear.

I couldn't fully make out what Thomas had said, only I knew it had to do with Salvatore Russo and his guests.

“Sorry gentlemen. We'll have to finish our conversation at a later time, I have to attend to an urgent matter. In the meantime, why don't you have some fun with the women,” Tymon slapped the insides of my thigh, shoving me off his lap. “Thomas make them feel at home,”

With one nod from Thomas, Frizz, and Raffaelo were led out of the office. Tymon made a call once the door was shut. He didn't say anything, he kept listening to whatever was being said on the phone.

“Don't worry, I'll deal with him. He's starting to piss me off already. What about the woman and the young boy?” 

He was talking about the woman and young boy I saw Guillo drag into Salvatore's mansion. I didn't see their faces, but I knew one thing for sure, no one stepped out of Salvatore's mansion alive.

Once Tymon was done with his call, he strode to his desk, taking out a syringe from his drawer.

“You have to do something important, and there's no room for error,” I eyed the syringe as he strode closer. This wasn't the first time he'd used me to take out someone but a sudden curiosity overwhelmed me, and I dared ask.

“You want me to kill someone?” I straightened my shoulders, daring to ask like I had a choice in this. It was either them or me, and I'd survived this place so far relying on that survival instinct. “Who?”

“Raffaelo,” He watched me for a second, before adding. “He's not who he seems to be. He's a dangerous assassin. A fucking made man so you'll have to play smart. And I assume you'll enjoy this task seeing as he wanted me to sell you off,”

I swallowed over the drought taking place in my throat. “And how do you expect a woman to overpower someone that dangerous?”

“You don't have to overpower him. You only need to get close enough to inject him,” Tymon's eyes flashed in warning as he handed the syringe over to me. “If anything goes wrong, they'll pay with their lives,”

His threats were clear. If I fail, all of the women in his precious harem will pay with their lives. Including Ana.

Despite the fear coursing in my veins, I raised my chin. “I'll do whatever needs to be done,”