Marrying the Mob Prince

Evie

I’m grateful that I’ve learned the depths of my strength.

Nobody would save me.

Nobody knew I’d been kidnapped and sold to a man with a tiger-slanted gaze. His white card had flashed among the sea of masked men after my captor paraded me onto the stage in lingerie. The bass from the annoying club music pulsed through me, masking my sluggish heartbeat.

Run.

Where would I go?

Guards with guns slung over their backs lined the walls. They covered all the exits. Escape was impossible, and, even if it wasn’t, the cocktail of drugs surging through my veins made action futile. I waded in a frustrating coma of medicated calm. The mental paralysis was as thick as ice over a frozen lake, and it wouldn’t shatter no matter how violent the water underneath. Grasping onto a thought for more than a few seconds was too hard.

I needed help.

I let out a mournful sound. My plea was a candle in a squall, blown out immediately. I clutched at a waiter passing out drinks, but he shook from my grip.

I begged for help, my voice swallowed by the EDM music. The ear-splitting applause and fanfare threw me off-balance. I lacked the energy to scream. The men in the masks did nothing. Not one person looked me in the eye.

Why not?

What’s happening?

“Congratulations again to the gentleman in the back!” The announcer, a dapper man in his late seventies, ceased clapping and flipped his thumb on the iPad. The wall behind him flashed with graphic images of a tied-up woman. “Our next item is Chastity. Twenty-four years old. We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand.”

I stared at my shaking palms.

This was a dark fantasy born from my very exhausted brain. This couldn’t be allowed. Police would be here soon. I’d be saved.

I would be fine.

I wiped my forehead as a girl stumbled across the stage, so dazed with drugs she had to be held upright. I tore my gaze from her and gaped at my topless body. A thong I’d never seen before gripped my waist. I looked just like her, the woman for sale. Blood siphoned from my face.

Rough fingers circled my biceps as my captor led me away from the auction. My head swirled as I struggled to string together the events that had brought me here. I clawed desperately through the fog as K pulled me into an Eyes Wide Shut nightmare.

Sleek black floors dominated the penthouse, which pulsed with a nightclub-like atmosphere. It could’ve been an LA party with the trays of appetizers piled on gold serving plates. I scanned the catered food with a morbid curiosity. Dungeness crab. Sturgeon caviar. Oysters on ice. Bottles sweating beside champagne flutes.

Girls dangled everywhere, half-naked, vacant-eyed. Some wore evening gowns. One lounged over a coffee table, her flesh bone-white under the glaring lights. Mounds of powder sat on her breasts. Men bent over her, snorting lines. They dipped fingers into the snow, wiped the dust between her legs, and licked her clean. They ate off her and drank belly shots.

Warning spasms of alarm twitched my face, squeezing my eyes shut. I opened and closed them, but the insanity remained. I’d never seen anything like it.

Naked girls. Devoured left and right, their bodies used as furniture or whipping posts. Everywhere I looked, women were groped, spanked, and fucked. The strangest part of it all-it could’ve been a BDSM dungeon. Except many of them wore nipple piercings with symbols dangling from them, almost like tags.

They’re all slaves. I fingered my collar. Even me.

My stomach bottomed.

No. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t accept the dull ache of foreboding, but nauseating despair wrenched at me, and it grew with every step.

K took in the party with detached boredom. “Your new owner is beyond those doors. Our time together has come to an end. It has been a pleasure.”

“I don’t-I-”

“You were sold.”

The effect of those words shattered me.

Sold. I can’t be sold. How did this happen? Does my Tony know? Will I see him again? Where am I?

Somewhere hidden from the rest of the world.

K had stuffed me in luggage and wheeled me into a truck. Up to that point, I’d never felt like a thing, but I did then, struggling to breathe from the zippered hole. If he saw no issue with treating me like that, he was capable of worse.

I trembled violently.

“Why are you doing this? Can’t you see how wrong-how evil-”

“The world is filled with two kinds of people. Wolves and sheep. You and your father are sheep.” His hand palmed the small of my back. “Word of advice? Keep your legs open. Years down the line, he’ll find a new toy and set you free.”

My chest tightened.

“No, I don’t want this!”

“You’ll grow to like it.”

“I have a life! A husband!” My heart hammered as his grip transferred to my bicep. “You need to take me back. I have to go home.”

“Home is with your master.” K gestured to a kneeling woman. “If you give him attitude, you’ll be treated like this.”

She crawled toward a man sitting with a whip balanced over his thighs. He yanked another girl’s head off his throbbing erection and seized the blonde, and then he mashed their faces together. They exchanged tongue in a series of passionless kisses. He stabbed the leather under their chin and hissed something.

God no.

I shuddered at the thought of being forced to do that. I bit the inside of my cheek and dug in my heels as K pushed me forward, panic sinking into me at last. Black spots crept over my vision. My heartbeat thrashed. I was a bird, desperate for release, fluttering wildly.

Can’t do this.

I whirled. I elbowed his abdomen and broke free. K slung me toward him. He waved the stun gun he’d threatened me with. His thumb slid over a button, and a violent blue arc shot from a pronged tip, scorching the air.

Fuck.

Like everybody else, a mask shielded K’s features. The only parts I made out were his eyes. Thick lashes fanned out from pools of amber-brown, which fixed on my forehead.

“My husband is rich. He’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I have all the money in the world.”

I shouted, grief tearing my voice. “Then why do you do this?”

He seemed to look through me, not at me. “Inside. Now.”

“Please. You don’t understand.”

K shoved the door open and jabbed my back with the cattle prod. “Walk.”

I jumped away from the metal scraping my skin, into a room with peaceful landscape photos, two white leather chairs, and a side table. A bowl of strawberries sat beside a bottle of champagne.

A man stood beside it, drinking. The plain black mask still hid most of him. He had long, sturdy Viking legs. Unruly, dark wisps curled against the V of his open collar, where his chest hair blended into his deep tan. His massive shoulders strained the midnight-blue suit. He must’ve been at least six feet tall, huge, and his limber movements hinted at youth. Details about him added together, forming an incomplete picture-wild hair, a chiseled, defined jaw, a muscular physique, a full mouth that parted when he faced me.

His glare burned through me.

The stubborn set of his jaw tingled the back of my head. The hairs on my arm stood on end. His aura threatened me more than K’s oily smiles because this man had an air of authority and the appearance of one who demanded instant obedience.

I plastered myself against the wall.

“Lot thirty-nine. Here are her medical records.” K strolled toward the man, who didn’t acknowledge him. “She’s clean. No drugs. No STDs. No birth control. A shiny, new toy. It wasn’t easy, making her behave without leaving any marks.”

K stroked my neck in a sensual caress that seemed to affect the man. His fists balled, his knuckles whitening. The power seemed to coil within him when he approached.

K, who flicked through his cell, didn’t notice. He inclined his head toward the man. “I just sent you the documents.”

A chime echoed from the man’s phone, and he tore his eyes from me to cycle through them. He nodded stiffly and pocketed the cell.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Great. That’s all in order.” K flashed a smile at the man, who still hadn’t said a word. “Ah. I almost forgot.”

K reached into his blazer and pulled out a syringe and small vial. “You’ll want this. Three months’ worth of birth control.”

The man snorted and made a dismissive wave.

“Not a fan of the shot?” K tucked it away and produced a packet. “Fine. I have pills.”

The taller, broader giant’s mouth lifted with a contemptuous curl as K offered them. His hand whirled, slapping the foil from K’s fist. It skidded across the floor. K jumped back, scowling.

“I strongly suggest you get her on something. We don’t run a daycare for your bastards.”

The temperature seemed to drop a thousand degrees.

The man wheeled on K.

His hand shot out. He grabbed K by the neck. Cracked his skull on the wall. Bright red smeared the white paint. A dazed K staggered, clutching his head. The stranger pummeled him, knocking him flat. His thick bicep curled around K’s neck; K twisted and squirmed, but the man held on. He tightened his grip, squeezing with a calm, lethal determination until K’s legs stopped flailing. Then he took out a switchblade and opened K’s throat.

Oh my God.

I sucked in a breath as K’s body hit the floor. Blood pulsed from the gash as I dashed for the door.

“Don’t.”

Tony’s voice burst from the man, stunning me. It couldn’t be. The drugs taunted me with the voice of my husband, but he wasn’t here. K was dead and he’d left me in the company of a new monster.

The man hesitated. He settled himself. His dimpled chin rose and fell as he inhaled deep, steadying breaths. Then he rushed forward.

I backed away. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’ve done, but if you bring me home-”

“Evie. It’s me.”

His graveled tone tugged sharply at my memory, and then he cupped my face. His big hand grazed my cheek as the other claimed my waist, pulling me close. Vanilla musk breezed into my nose. He smelled sweet and crisp, like the linens in the apartment I’d made my home. The images washed over me like a warm tidal wave.

“Tony?”

My throat tightened, thick with the tears I’d shed hours ago.

The mouth trembled. Then he yanked the mask off, revealing a face wrecked with emotion. His forehead hit mine with a soft thump.

“Evie.”

“It’s you. It’s really you.” I gaped at him, crying. “I can’t believe you’re here. Thank God.”

I was saved.