Sold to Moretti Mafia

Fallon

Three days pass in a blur, and we slowly fall into a weirdly normal routine. The tether of trust between us seems to grow. I’m pretty sure it has everything to do with the other night. Ever since he talked me off the edge of a panic attack, and we just talked like humans, things have been different, better.

I saw something in him that day in the car. It was like for the first time, he allowed a small sliver of who he was to shine through all the broken, dark pieces of who he made himself out to be. After that day, it made maintaining the hate I had for him hard.

I’ve never been the type to hold onto negativity, but it is hard not to hate him with the way he treats me sometimes. I often wonder if this is all a front, if Markus said and did things to keep me in place. Part of me stupidly thinks he would never hurt me, mainly because every threat he has made has been an idle one.

He’s all over the place, some days hot and other days cold, which is frustrating as hell. I can’t gauge his mood because I never know which way it’s going to go.

Every night we have sex, and of course, he makes sure I climax.

It makes me feel incredibly guilty that my body is drawn to him, that when he is inside me, I forget what we are to each other and where we are. I crave his touch, even though admitting it makes me hate myself a little bit. He’s my captor, the man who paid a million dollars to fuck me. However, he wants. I’m not supposed to want him.

Except I do. When he’s inside of me, he’s a different person, and I forget about all the shitty things he’s said and done. It gives me hope that maybe everything he’s said is a lie, that there is a kinder person beneath the grumpy, angry, violent exterior he shows to others.

Nothing has changed in our nightly routine. He ties my hands together, securing them in front of me, and tucks me into his side each night, wrapping an arm over me that resembles a thick steel band. Even if my hands weren’t tied, it would be a huge risk to try to escape his hold.

Each night I fall asleep, I feel a little more guilty for nuzzling into his chest and inhaling his scent, but he holds me in his arms, encouraging me.

I do everything he asks of me, cleaning the kitchen after meals and helping with the laundry. I don’t get to go anywhere in the house alone, but at least he doesn’t tie me to the bed and only come and see me when he wants to fuck me.

Staring into my cup of tea, I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He sits at the small kitchen table, working on his laptop. It’s ridiculous how normal he makes this all feel.

It’s as if we’re a real-life couple without technically being one, minus the fact he paid a million dollars for me.

Somehow, I need him to trust me enough to take me to his place because I don’t think I’ll find what I’m looking for here. This isn’t even his house. Ugh. Somehow, I need to make him trust me enough to take me to his home.

He needs to think that I’m under his spell, willing to do anything he wants. I tap my fingers idly against the counter. I’m not sure how many days have passed since the auction, but this is taking longer than expected. How can I speed up the process? I don’t have the time it would take to convince him that everything is good, that I’m worthy of his trust.

I need to get into contact with them now. To let them know I’m still alive and need more time. How I’m going to do that is beyond me. I haven’t seen a phone inside this house, and Markus’s cell has a six-number code on it. All I have is their phone number, which they made me memorize while they held me in that awful cell.

Markus looks up from the laptop and right at me, and my heart clenches in my chest. I feel guilty all of a sudden and for no reason. I haven’t done anything. Yet.

I know what has to be done, but doing so will ruin everything. We’ve got into a pleasant rhythm with no fighting, and I almost feel bad doing something, knowing that I’m tossing all that effort out the window. Everything seems normal, and I’m going to destroy it all, but I have no other choice. I have to make that call soon.

“Bring me a glass of water,” Markus orders, his deep voice startling me.

I jump at the sound, and the tea in my hand sloshes out the side of the cup and onto the counter. Damnit. I’m basically giving myself away here.

Deep breaths.

Swallowing down my anxiety, I go to the cupboard, get out a glass, and fill it with water. I squeeze the glass hard, trying to stop my hand from trembling as I walk over to the table and hand him the cup.

He takes it and blinks slowly, watching me. His fingers graze mine, and I shiver at the contact.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out.

“Okay…” his gaze narrows, “then go.”

I scurry across the living space and into the bathroom. I don’t even have to go pee, but I need to get away. I need a breather, even if it’s just for a moment.

I take a few minutes to collect myself before I exit and return to the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting weird,” Markus points out, having my nerves right back where they were ten minutes ago.

“I just don’t feel well,” I lie, “I think I’m about to get my period.”

Markus makes a weird face as if periods are the last thing he wants to talk about. Typical guy. At least he seems to believe me.

“Are you ready to go to bed?”

“Yes. I know it’s early. You don’t have to come with me. Or I can just lie down on the couch for now.”

“It’s fine. We’ll go.” Picking up the glass of water, he chugs the last bit and gets up. Shutting his laptop, he grabs it and heads for the stairs. I follow close behind, feeling both grateful and nervous about another day coming to an end.

“Wait here,” Markus orders when we reach the bedroom door.

I stop in my tracks and watch him curiously.

Markus continues walking down the hall and opens a door. He disappears inside what I’ve assumed was another bedroom until now. When he reappears, the laptop he was carrying is gone.

“What’s that room?” I ask before I can stop myself. To my surprise, he actually answers me.

“My office.”

I nod and follow him to the bed. We both strip down to our underwear. I stopped wearing pajamas a few days ago at Markus’s request, or should I say order. Either way, I don’t mind since I prefer sleeping naked, anyway.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I hold out my hands for him to tie them together, but he stuns me yet again when he shakes his head.

“Just lie down. Your wrists and ankles are red. I’ll give you a break tonight.”

I stare down at my wrists in shock. Yes, my skin has been angry and red looking lately, but I’m still not convinced that this is the only reason. Is he testing me?

“Okay.”

We both crawl into bed and under the blanket. As we assume our normal positions, my mind is reeling. I can’t figure out if this is a test or if he is starting to trust me. His arm snakes around my body, and I bury my face into his chest.

I let his words run through my mind again… I’ll give you a break tonight. Does that mean he’ll tie me up again tomorrow? If so, that means tonight will be my only chance to try to find a phone. Maybe there is one in the office.

Just one quick call. That’s all I need.

Closing my eyes, I try to even out my breathing without actually falling asleep, and then I wait. I wait for what feels like two hours until my eyes start to droop, and I can’t keep myself awake any longer. Only then, when I am certain Markus is asleep, his breathing evening and his body unmoving, do I move. Slowly… so very, very slowly, I scoot away from him.

With every inch I put between us, my heart slams against my ribcage faster and faster. I’m so scared, terrified of what may happen, what he will do to me if he discovers I’m no longer beside him in the bed.

Everything inside me says to stop, to lie back down, and cuddle back into his chest, but I can’t. I have to do this. I have to take this chance. I’ve already taken long enough, another day without letting them know I’m still here and alive.

When I’m finally out of bed, I feel cold, and it’s not just the loss of body heat. It’s not the fact that I’m standing here in nothing but my panties, my bare feet on the cool wood.

It’s knowing that if he catches me, whatever we had developing between us will be gone.

That kind of coldness is much worse than the physical one. It’s the kind of cold that you feel in your bones and deep in your gut. The kind that you know can freeze your soul to death.

Forcing my feet to move toward the door, every step feels like a step toward death. The door creaks a tiny bit as I open it, and of course, it sounds like a marching band in my head. I stop for a minute, making sure the sound doesn’t wake him.

When the room remains silent, and Markus’s large body unmoving, I continue.

I step out of the room, tiptoe down the hallway, and come to a halt in front of the office door. Reaching for the doorknob, I wrap my fingers around it and turn. The door pushes open with ease, but my stomach is in knots.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Panic builds, gripping me by the throat. In this instance, I cannot think about the consequences if Markus were to catch me.

I need to do this. I need to make that call.

I will never forgive myself if I don’t.