I watched as she stripped and changed in front of Diego. I could have set her free, seeing as she'd realized the error of her ways, and let her go to her room. The one she was given on the first day she stayed here—but I had no intention of letting her go back to the room as it was. I made Lourdes strip the handmade Turkish rug, the queen-sized bed, all clothes, toiletries, and furniture from the room. She would only have wooden floors and a small single bed. Nothing more. She'd have to wear the same thing every day: black leggings and a matching shirt. No television. No access to Wi-Fi. Nothing. She would feel like a prisoner, until the day came when she would be allowed to go out, and she would obey knowing if she rebelled then her fate would be one of two options: death or the dungeon. She would welcome both with open arms. After her twenty-three days were up, then she could go on with her life, pretending she had never met me, or that I'd done nothing but treat her well. If all w

My phone chimed as I sat down to lunch; I hadn’t seen Adrianna since I spent last night in the guest bedroom. Diego had done a disappearing act, too. I seemed to have alienated everyone and anyone since Pa died. Need more time. VThis meant she didn’t want Adrianna yet, I’d planned to give her to Vendova in two days. She wanted more time; I had no choice but to make it up to Adrianna and see if I could undo the cruel treatment I’d given to her. “You sent for me,” Adrianna pouted as she came into the sun lounge. I enjoyed my time in this room, especially when the weather was sunny like today. It hadn’t happened often lately. Winter had come early this year. Not that I was a fan of Autumn, but the grey clouds seemed to stay in the sky a lot longer than they usually did this time of year. She was wearing the black leggings and polo I’d left in the closet. I should have replaced them with the clothes I’d originally bought for her, but then I remembered what Diego said to me, about me g

I decided I’d had enough and would look for him. Find out where he was and ask if I could go and see Jen for the day. I hadn’t spoken to her lately and I was feeling guilty about it. She’d tried to be in touch, but I’d spent most of the day eating, reading with Ricardo, and the rest of the time fantasizing about him. He knew I had no money, yet he’d given me a choice. I reflected back to dinner nearly a week ago and decided maybe there was a way to get to him. Part of me felt sorry for him. His dad was dead and maybe he was the only one he could relate to, and now he was alone trying to figure out his place in life. I didn’t even know how old he was, or anything about him apart from him being part of the mafia.I wandered around the house like Alice wandering in Wonderland, wondering where he was or what he was doing. I must admit for a mafia king, I didn’t think he would be inside this much. I thought he would be out and about like he’d done the first moment I came to live here. “He

Ricardo went out yesterday, he said to look for Juan and Diego, but it seems he didn’t find them. I’d planned to meet up with Jen, but when he came home and I saw him sitting in the library, I knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to get drunk, he wanted to get wasted like he had by the pond. I managed to distract him, managed to give him something to do outside of the house, and it worked. I just didn’t know if I could do it every night. Part of it felt like too much hard work. It was as if I was putting all his needs in front of mine, buying time maybe, but it gave me a purpose, and I loved being with him. And even more, I loved him being inside of me when he wasn’t drunk. He was a completely different person when he wasn’t drinking, one I could imagine not only spending another thirty days with, but a lot more.“I want to go to the Chicago Symphony again. It was magical, the night you took me. It was fantastic. You have a different side to you, one I didn’t even think existed.”He

I closed my eyes, as I thought about what Ricardo said, and the idea of him nearly killing a man like Gold felt justified. Ricardo only killed or hurt bad guys, so that was okay? He wasn’t the real monster in this story. The only violence I had been exposed to was my aunt once shouting at my uncle for being late. I was so fucking confused, not only about him, but I had been feeling so hormonal lately. I sighed as I considered how bad I was smelling. I didn’t notice, or rather didn’t care earlier, but after being scolded by Ricardo, I decided I was in much need of a shower. As I took off my clothes, I started to get the usual cramps I did whenever my period was due; it confirmed what I already suspected, it was due any day now. This why I was feeling emotional, and the sight of seeing a man’s dick nearly beaten off was a sight I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. I shook at the idea of it as I entered the shower, and the hot water started to remove not only the smell, but the fear I had of R