Sold to Moretti Mafia

Markus

One week. That’s how long I’ve managed to keep her locked in the cell. It’s been hell, and I’ve drunk almost every bottle of liquor in the house to cope with it. I don’t want to admit it, but a part of me doesn’t just want her. It needs her. I can still feel her fragile body pressed against mine as she nuzzled into my chest, seeking my touch. I tell myself it’s because she’s had limited human contact for days, but it’s more than that.

It was like she threw caution to the wind completely and gave herself over to me. When I put her down, she shivered, the cold returning to her body, and as heartless as I am, as mean of a fucker as I’ve been known to be, I couldn’t stand there and watch her slight body tremble. I took my sweater off and gave it to her like the gentlemen that I’m not.

I take some Advil to ward off the headache that’s pulsing to life behind my eyes and make some breakfast. I take my time preparing it and think of what’s coming today.

Lucca will arrive this evening and help me with the last-ditch effort of keeping Fallon in line. If this doesn’t work, then I don’t fucking know what will.

Cooking breakfast, I dish up the scrambled eggs and sausage and place a piece of toast on the plate. Then, I pour a glass of orange juice and put it on the table.

I make myself a plate as well and do the same. Today will be the first time we’ve shared a meal together in days, and I won’t lie. I’m eager for her company. With everything set up, I head downstairs. Retrieving my keys from my pocket, I unlock the door to the cell and push it open.

My heart clenches in my chest when I find Fallon lying on her side, the sweatshirt I left her encompassing her body. Fuck. A wound of possession reopens in my chest. Mine. All fucking mine. There is something about seeing her in my clothes, and it isn’t an emotion I can even put into words.

Pushing the door open a little more, it creaks, and she wakes with a startle, pushing up into a sitting position, her sleepy eyes land right on me. Her brows pinch together in confusion as she looks at my hands, and I realize she thinks I’m coming to deliver breakfast.

“Have you learned your lesson?” I ask like a parent scolding their child.

Fallon pushes up off the floor, her legs a little unsteady. I clench my jaw and tighten my hand into a fist to stop myself from reaching out to her. I cannot treat her like a delicate flower, not when I’m the one that’s going to pluck all the pretty petals off of her.

“Do I… do I get to come upstairs?” The hope that radiates out of her shatters me.

“If you’ve learned your lesson.”

Rushing toward me, she nearly trips over her own feet, and this time I don’t stop myself from catching her. My fingers connect with her hip, and I steady her as she crashes into my chest, hardly moving me with the impact of her body.

Peering up at me through her lashes, her gaze is a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. I can tell she is tired, the bags underneath her eyes are dark, and her skin is puffy from days of crying. Her anguish is a pierce to the heart. I didn’t want to have to keep her in the basement. Truly, I didn’t. But she fucking betrayed me, she fucking broke my trust.

Taking a step back, I put a little distance between our bodies. “Come. I made breakfast, and then I want you to take a bath.”

She nods her head almost stiffly. I start for the door and realize within a second that she isn’t moving. Twisting around, I find her just standing there, staring at the open door. Did the solitude hurt that badly?

I extend my hand out to her. “Your breakfast is getting cold.” The growl of my voice causes her to snap out of it, and her eyes dart to my hand. A visible shiver slices through her, and then she places her hand in mine. I shouldn’t hold her hand, I know that. It will make her think things, but I don’t really care right now.

Her hand feels so dainty in mine, soft and smooth. It takes great strength to stop myself from stroking the top of her hand with my thumb, but I manage.

Together we head up the stairs, and I ignore how perfect her hand feels in mine. It’s stupid to even consider her being anything to me. I just locked her in a cold basement for a week straight for defying me. If she feels anything for me, it’s going to be hate.

When we reach the table, I release her hand. She slides into her seat, and I follow, doing the same across from her. A symbolic feeling of normality washes over me, having her sit and eat with me. I guess I wasn’t aware how much I’d grown used to having her here.

Fallon doesn’t even blink. She picks up her fork and practically inhales her food. I eat just as fast and by the time she is done, I’m finishing up as well. She moves to pick up the plates, stepping right into her duties from before, but I shake my head, stopping her.

“No. We can clean up later. I want you to go take a bath.”

“Okay… are you going to come too?” she asks, almost like she is scared I will.

I shake my head. “Not this time. I have something to do before my friend gets here.”

“Your friend?” She sounds astonished.

“Yes, someone I trust and work with,” I explain. She looks unsure and nervous about someone coming over. I’m guessing more so at the mention of him working with me. Fallon isn’t stupid. She must have figured out by now what kind of work I do, which means my work associates are just as bad as me.

I gesture for her to lead the way, and she hesitantly does. I’d have given her a shower, but doing so would’ve made her comfortable, and the point of being in the basement was the opposite.

As she walks up the stairs ahead of me, I notice how thin her legs are. Did she lose weight while in the basement? She never finished her meals when I brought her food, but I didn’t think anything of it until now.

She strips out of her panties and my sweater and eagerly heads for the bathroom.

While she is in the tub, I sit on the bed, going over the plan in my head. When I asked him for a favor a week ago, I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do.

Now I do, and though I don’t particularly want to do this, I have to. I need to know who she planned to call, who she risked her own life for because if I was anyone else. If she had been sold to any other fucker at that auction, she’d have been killed for doing that.

It’s not like I can use my standard interrogation techniques on her. Her skin is thick, and even when afraid, she can manage to keep her secrets locked down. I need to go one step further. I need to cross that line, whether I want to or not.

I already know I’m an asshole for what I’m going to do to her. I’ve battled with myself all week over if I really wanted to follow through with it, but I have to know what she’s hiding, what was worthy of tossing everything away.

Thinking about the private investigator, there is the possibility of her working for someone, that she was planted at the auction for a reason, but that’s a far stretch. I’m apprehensive to believe that there isn’t more to the story.

It’s more likely she has a boyfriend that she’s afraid to tell me about. That possibility is both plausible and infuriating-the thought of another man touching her, putting his hands on what’s mine. I shake my head to rattle the thought away, but it sticks.

I’ve never been possessive over a woman before, but when it comes to Fallon, I will kill anyone who threatens to take her away from me. I know it. Feel it with every beat of my heart. No matter what happens, she will be mine till I say otherwise.

From my spot on the edge of the bed, I can see right into the bathroom. Fallon grabs a towel and starts to wrap it around her body, but before she can fully cover herself, I’ve gotten a view of her wet, slick body. My cock, of course, hardens to steel.

I’ve missed that, having her close to me, her whimpers of pleasure, of being inside of her. If she hadn’t fucked it all up, everything would still be the same, and I wouldn’t be preparing to hurt her.

Fallon steps into the bedroom, the towel wrapped securely around her body. Her long blonde hair is dripping wet, and my eyes latch onto a drop of water that glistens against her collarbone. My mind goes straight to licking that drop of water off her skin, to spreading her thighs and feasting on her clit, to sliding deep inside…

“Markus?”

“Yeah,” I snap, her voice dragging me out of the lustful haze.

I can’t be thinking about getting close to her or fucking her. Not until I find out what I need to. Answers before anything else.

“Why is your friend coming by?”

“You’ll find out when he gets here,” I tell her with a growl. She stares at me as if she knows something bad is going to happen. I wonder what she sees. What do I look like to her?

Like a monster? Like I want to ravage her alive?

“All I need you to know is that I want you to be on your best behavior. If you’re thinking of trying something, don’t. Lucca won’t save you. He’s bad, maybe even worse than me. Not only that, but if you do try something, the cell in the basement will be the least of your worries.” There is so much malice in my words, it’s almost hard for me to speak them.

Fallon’s throat bobs, and she white knuckles the towel. She’s afraid. I can see it, smell it. Like blood in shark-infested waters, she’s leading me right to her, showing me right where to strike.

“Of course. I won’t do anything stupid. I’ve learned my lesson.”

I nod and stare into her azure eyes while I speak my next sentence, “I hope so because next time it won’t be the basement you face. It will be me.”

It’s clear she is still scared, but instead of cowering at my words, she stands tall. In another life, she would be perfect for me, and I could treat her decently, maybe not with love, but I could care for her.

In this life, I don’t know what we are or what there could ever be between us. Before I can figure it out, I’ve got to clear the air between us. Find out who she was calling, and why? And after tonight, I’ll have my answer.

I just hope I don’t have to hurt her too badly, trying to get it.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.