Sienna
It's past midnight when I get home, the perfect clear sky black but for the sliver of the moon. The walk from the bus stop is only two blocks, but this isn't the best neighborhood and I'm on my guard.The one thing I can consistently rely on is that the street lamps will always be broken. I wonder if the township even bothers to fix them anymore.Twice on the short walk I catch myself glancing over my shoulder, the streets quieter than they should be.When I turn onto the walkway leading up to my house, the motion detector sets off the light and I reach into my tote to dig out my keys.Once more, as I climb the three steps up to the porch of the quaint, two-story yellow house, look behind me.But I'm alone.And all the windows of all the houses are dark and the only sound is that of my keys jangling as I finally find them at the bottom of the bag.I insert the key into the top lock but when I turn it, nothing happens.Did I forget to lock it? It's happened before, when I'm not paying attention. Although I'm usually careful.I dismiss it, insert another key into the second lock. That one is locked.Relieved, I push the door open and step into the house and before I've even pulled the key out or closed the door, I know something's wrong.It's the smell of the place. It's different. Subtle, but it doesn't belong.Aftershave.And not just one scent.Instinct tells me to run. To get out. But before I can process, the light goes on and it's simultaneous to someone clearing their throat.It's only then that I manage to get my legs to work.But I don't even get out of the house before a hand clamps down around my arm and tugs me back inside as the door is slammed shut.I stumble, out of breath for that smallest effort, and I don't know how I don't scream.How, with my heart hammering against my chest, I somehow don't scream as I look at the man sitting on the armchair, a worn-out antique that came with the rental.As I take in the two who stand in my living room.The third who's holding onto me, his grip like a vice."Let me go!"I struggle.The one in the chair watches and I can see he's entertained when his lips curve upward.He gives a nod of his head and I wonder if he timed his order for the man to release me because the moment he does, I fall flat on my ass.I'm surprised he doesn't laugh when I do."Finished?" he asks when I look up at him.He's rocking a suit and the others are dressed in black jeans and black shirts.I don't know how I don't move or scream. It's like I can't. Like I'm paralyzed. Even my vocal cords are paralyzed."Ms. Williams," the man in the armchair says.They know my name.Of course, they know my name.Men like this, they're not petty thieves. Not here to steal things. Not at this house anyway."Are you finished?" he asks.I swallow. Nod.He gestures to the man looming above me who once again closes his hand around my arm and hauls me to my feet before releasing me to stand on my own.Armchair Man checks his watch. "Tsk. You're late.""Who..." But my question dies away as he rises to stand.He's huge. A giant. Bigger even than the one beside me, and I find myself shrinking back."And now we're behind schedule," he says casually, simply continuing his sentence.I spring back as he approaches.He grins and I get the feeling he's used to this. To people being afraid of him. I get the feeling he likes it."Who are you?" I ask."I'm not the one you have to worry about, sweetheart, " he says with a wink.He gestures with a single nod to the man at the door to open it.I look outside at the sedan that's just pulled up to the curb. It looks totally out of place here in this neighborhood. It's got to be worth more than several years of mortgage payments on any of these houses.The driver gets out, leans against the car and lights a cigarette. A second car, a replica of this one, pulls up behind it."Coming?" Armchair Man asks me.I turn back to find him watching me. He gestures for me to go to the car and he's not smiling anymore.We both know I don't have a choice, but still, I can't just go with him."This is a mistake. I — ""Giovanni doesn't like to be kept waiting. Are you walking on your own or am I walking you?""Giovanni? I don't know — ""Walk or be walked, Ms. Williams?"I swallow quickly.He gives me that grin again and leans in close like we're old friends.But I know men like him.I grew up with them.And there's nothing remotely friendly about them."I suggest you walk. The other way isn't so pleasant."I also know there's no benefit to doing as they say. No leniency for obedience. And so I try again to run because I can't not.This time, I make it out onto the porch and it's when I'm setting foot on the front lawn that he catches me.Armchair Man. And his grip, it's different than the other man's.Harder.More cruel."Please," I plead, tugging to free myself. To somehow pry his fingers from me."For a minute there, I thought you'd be smarter," he says, beginning to lead me down the cracked pavement to the waiting sedan, my struggles seemingly inconsequential.When we get to the car, I set my hand against the hood, brace myself."Really?" he asks like I'm too stupid for words.I meet his eyes and I try once more to free myself. He releases me abruptly, then boxes me in and cocks his head to the side. The look in his eyes is so steely, so cold, it sends ice along my spine."Get in the goddamned car," he orders, his voice harder.He doesn't give me a chance to obey.Instead, he wraps one arm around my middle and a moment later, I'm in the car and he's beside me, and when we pull away, I hear the locks click into place and that sound, it's like a foretelling of my future.Giovanni I sip whiskey from my place at the back booth of the auction floor. It's the quarterly draw, a party I throw for my associates, for lack of a better word.We've had a good quarter, and this is their reward.Every man who's walked into this room is captured by the many cameras. Every name noted. Every bid recorded in the ledger.Piano music sets the backdrop, the collection of voices loud over it even though most speak in whispers during the breaks in entertainment.These, too, are recorded, and they'll be dissected later.Pretty women serve drinks and anything else required of them as the stage is readied, the next girl taking her place on the raised dais.This one, her name is Diana or Donna or something. She looks young, but I'm assured she's legal. They like young, the men gathered here.She's on offer for one night only, and from the look of her, she'll bring a high bid.I study her face on my screen from the cameras installed behind the curtain. She's hesitant, to say t
Giovanni The noise of the crowd intensifies as Donna is removed from the stage and the curtains are closed. It'll be a little while before the next one is put on the block.I turn my full attention to the woman before me.“Giovanni,” I say."What?""Just Giovanni. Not Mr. Giovanni.""Oh.""Sienna Williams. Familiar name.""This is a mistake." She reaches into the giant tote, which is lying at her feet.One of the soldiers puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her."What — "I give him a shake of my head.He steps back.I don't think she'll pull a gun out of the thing. She's not the type to even own one.She gives him a nasty look and resumes digging around to pull out her wallet. "Look," she says, opening it, taking out her driver's license and holding it out for me to see. Her hand trembles. “My last name is Chase. You've made a mistake."When I reach to take the license, she pulls it away. I raise my eyebrows and hold out my hand, palm up.She looks at it, and, very reluctantly, pu
Giovanni"What am I doing here?" she asks, ignoring my question, sounding more steely than I like.“Like I said, Ciara owes me some money." I make a point of saying her name rather than calling her sister."I don't have anything to do with that."“But you do. Given Ciara's current state, well, she's no good to me." I set one elbow on the table, rest my chin on my fingers as she processes this information. “And the only name she could offer up was yours.""Mine?"I nod. It's quiet and I wonder when she's going to get around to asking the two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollr question.“How much does she owe you?"There it is. "A quarter of a million dollars."Her mouth falls open."Ciara has a gambling addiction," I say. “And, as it turns out, a drug addiction too."“But that is much money. Are you sure? I mean...that's a lot of money.""Agree. She spent it quite nicely in my casino, though."She's quiet for a long moment and her eyes narrow before she speaks. "So, let me understand thi
SiennaHis hand is huge.Hell. He's huge.I reach out, place mine inside it and it feels warm and rough and when he closes his fingers over mine, his grip is firm, this gesture, it's as though I've already agreed.Because I know what I must do. I know why he brought me here. I have no doubt.You owe her nothing.I haven't seen or had any contact with Ciara in years. I didn't know she was in town.And she can't know that I am.I manage to get to my feet, and he's got to be a good foot taller than me. Even with my pumps, the top of my head barely reaches his chin.Heads turn as Giovanni, his presence at my back enough to guide me, leads me toward a door at the back of the room where a man stands sentry. He opens it at our approach.I hesitate."Go on," Giovanni says from behind me. He's standing closer than I realize and a shudder runs through me at the feel of his breath on the back of my neck.I hear the faint hint of his accent.I heard it throughout our conversation, stronger somet
Giovanni That was her decision.Sienna is taken backstage to be prepared.I sit at my table with Axel across from me. He's back from his errand.Axel Drake and I have known each other since I was sixteen years old. He's one of the few men I consider a friend.There were three years when he left Vegas and went east. It's a time he doesn't discuss though, not even with me. All I know about it is that he and his brother, Hugo, a man I've never met, spent time in prison there and I have a feeling it has something to do with that errand he ran earlier.I understand revenge and I don't care what Axel has to do to take care of what he needs to take care of as long as he's available when I need him. It's an understanding we have between us.He drinks the last of his whiskey and I pour him another.The gong goes off and the auctioneer announces this is the last of tonight's draw. They'll be anxious for it. I only have half a dozen girls at each party. Keeps them hungry."Want me to keep someo
I look at Sienna's tear stained, mascara-smeared face. She still can't see me. The spotlight is too bright on her. But she must recognize my voice and know that it was me who bought her.The men take her down from the platform. She still fights as she's removed from the stage. The curtain falls and the lights in the room go on announcing to everyone that it's the end of the night.Axel chuckles. "Told you," he mutters as I resume my seat."Fuck you," I say, the excitement I feel in my gut something foreign. Something I'd forgotten.One hour later, Sienna is delivered to my penthouse by the same two men in about the same fashion as when she threw that fit on the stage.I'm standing at the window with my back to the elevator when I hear the doors slide open. I sip my drink, watching the lights of the strip in this city that never sleeps.A city of vultures.Hungry.Always hungry.Always looking for innocent flesh with which to fill their bellies.I'm hungry, too.I set my empty glass on
Giovanni I don't like clutter or anything messy, not anywhere in my life.My eyes fall on that tartan again. Why have I kept it all these years? I need to talk to the maid. I don't want to have to see it every time I fucking turn around.Sienna lowers herself into the chair nearest her and farthest from me. She hangs her head and her hair falls forward like a veil between us, but I don't miss the tear that drops.She combs her fingers through the thick mass, sniffles and straightens her spine. She meets my gaze."One night," she says.I nod."And I'm free and you won't hurt Ciara.""Not a bad deal if you ask me.""You're not the one who has to fuck you."I chuckle at that. "You could do worse, sweetheart.""I'm not your sweetheart."I shrug a shoulder. I could give a fuck."What are you, anyway? What's your accent?" she asks.She hears it? I wonder if others do too. I've worked hard to rid myself of it. Rid myself of the past."Scots.""You're from Scotland?""Born in the Highlands."
Giovanni "Stop calling me that. I am not your sweetheart.""You'll be whatever I want you to be. You're bought and paid for, remember? Now get on your knees before you piss me off."Her face goes red, and rage rolls off her.I open my mouth to say something, but I don't expect what she does next.I don't expect her to slap me, not after my warning.Her gasp comes an instant after her hand collides with my face.I force a long, deep breath, feeling the sting of the slap. Feeling the rage bubble inside me. I tighten the muscles of my gut to tamp it down, to control it.I'm bigger than her. Stronger. I can hurt her in a way she can't hurt me. I have to be careful.When I shift my gaze back to hers, she has her hands to her mouth, and her eyes are huge. She's staring at me like she can't fucking believe what she just fucking did.It takes me a long time before I speak."You want to play rough, Sienna?" The words are a low, almost whispered threat.She swallows, shaking her head. Streaks