Sold to Moretti Mafia

Markus

Guilt. An emotion I don’t often experience. I’ve done things in my life, bad things. I’ve killed people, hurt, and tortured them. I’ve stolen, lied, and cheated. I’ve ruined people’s lives, and I’ve rarely felt guilt over any of that, but here I stand, feeling guilty over using the woman I spent one million dollars on.

As if she didn’t know what was coming. As if I didn’t realize I’d react the way I did.

It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, so long since I touched one or allowed one to touch me. As soon as I felt her fiery mouth around my cock, and the wetness between her thighs, I lost it. The carnal want and need overtook me.

The pleasure was all-consuming, and being the gentleman I am, I thought returning the favor was the right thing to do. Now, I think that was a mistake. She can’t think I care about her or her feelings. Because I don’t, I can’t, I won’t.

I need to keep the line drawn. To make sure she knows her place and purpose with me. I’ve never gone soft on anyone or anything in my life, and she will not be an exception.

Pulling some random clothes out of the closet, I hold them and wait for her to finish in the bathroom. As soon as she steps back out, I shove the pile of fabric into her hands.

“I have some shit to do. Come with me,” I tell her, but before she can move on her own, I grab her upper arm and pull her along with me. My patience is running thin, and I don’t have it in me to wait around.

Ignoring the heat and softness of her skin, I drag her through the house, down the stairs, and into the basement. Her entire body is shaking when we get downstairs. That shaking only intensifies when we reach the cell.

It’s stupid, but glancing over at her, I notice how pale she is. All the blood has drained from her face as she surveys the small concrete, windowless room. Looking so scared and pitiful, I almost spin around and walk her back upstairs. Almost.

Then I remember how important it is to prove my point, to show her she is nothing but my property. Nothing but my possession, something I will do as I please with.

“It’s soundproof, so no one will hear your screams,” I say like she needs anything else to scare her.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

Patience isn’t my strong suit, so when she doesn’t enter the cell straight away, I push her through the doorway and watch as she stumbles forward, barely catching herself. Turning around quickly like I might attack her, our gazes collide. She’s pleading with me without words. Begging me not to leave her here.

As if it were going to be that easy.

Ignoring her puppy dog eyes, I slam the door in her face. I lock her in and force myself to climb up the stairs, putting as much distance between us as I can get. Damn her! Her tempting body and soft eyes. She’s a reminder of everything I will never have.

Feeling like I’m about to come apart at the seams, I know I need to find something to do. This aggression needs to come out somehow, and I don’t trust myself to let it out on her yet, not without doing some serious damage. I don’t want to hurt her, not really, but I’m not myself right now. What are you doing, Markus?

When I told Julian I was going to take some vacation time, I wasn’t even sure what that entailed. All I knew was that I wanted the girl on that stage, and I wanted to go somewhere away from people with her.

However, now that I’m here, I’m questioning everything. I wonder if I can even handle this. It’s been years since I was with a woman and even longer since I slept beside one. I’m not good at being kind, and I’ve never had to care for anyone but myself.

Walking into the kitchen, I stop in front of the sink and stare out the window that overlooks the backyard. There are a bunch of logs that lay unsplit on the ground just a few yards away from the house.

A little fresh air would do me good and help clear my head. Physical exertion usually helps relieve the aggression, but there is nothing and no one but Fallon out here. I suppose I could find an ax and finish cutting up the logs scattered outside.

You didn’t come all the way here to be an outdoorsman.

Nevertheless, I walk over to the door and slip my feet into my boots.

I find the ax easily, hanging up on the side of the house above a stack of already cut firewood. I grab it and start working. One log after the next, I chop through the wood like it’s nothing but butter.

I work through the whole pile, the muscles in my arms starting to burn, my heart rate picking up, I channel all of my anger into each strike, and I finally feel like I’m getting a bit tired.

I’m almost done stacking the firewood next to the house when movement catches my eye on the far corner of the property. It’s just some leaves rustling, which could be anything.

We are far out, and I didn’t hear any cars approaching. No one knows where we are, and this is one of Julian’s safe houses. There is almost no way someone followed us here. It has to be an animal… but what if it’s not?

Briefly, I contemplate running inside and grabbing my gun from the safe. I didn’t think I’d need it, and I felt safer without it lying around. A gun would be the only way Fallon could win in a fight against me. I figured it’d be safer to take an equalizer like that out of the equation.

Deciding on taking a risk, I walk to the edge of the property armed with an ax instead of my usual gun. When I get closer, my hunch is confirmed when I find a fresh track of footprints in the dirt. Motherfucker.

Tightening my grip on the ax, I follow the tracks. It doesn’t take me long before I see someone moving in the distance. The guy is trying his best to get away from me, but I easily catch up with him.

He looks over his shoulder, seeing me approach. I raise the ax like a fucking Viking warrior charging into battle, ready to strike. I expect him to pull out a gun, but he continues running like a little pussy. “Please!” He yells out seconds before I drop the ax and tackle him to the ground. He struggles slightly, waving his arms around, making it clear he has no kind of fighting skills.

Who the fuck is this guy?

He isn’t a cop nor anyone the mafia would send. If I believed in coincidences, I would say he is here by chance, but I don’t.

Keeping my knee pressed between his shoulder blades, I lift my upper body up, so I can search him. He has three things on him. A phone, his wallet, and a fucking camera. I shove all three items in my pocket.

Getting to my feet quickly, I drag him up with me and slam him against the closest tree. He hardly fights, and I wrap my hand around his throat, pinning him in place.

“Who are you?” I demand. His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens, but it seems like he can’t get anything out besides a little wheeze. I loosen my grip just enough for him to talk.

“I’m nobody. I was just walking,” he explains, but I can tell it’s a lie.

“Wrong answer,” I growl.

Grabbing his shirt, I shove him away and quickly pick up the ax from the ground. “You’re going to walk a few feet ahead of me. If you try to run or do anything else stupid, I’ll chop off your head.”

“O-Okay, okay.” He stumbles over his feet. He’s a skinny guy with shaggy hair that reminds me of a surfer. He’s also much younger than me. Probably closer to Fallon’s age. Which leads me to wonder? Is this guy her boyfriend?

“That way, back to the house. You know, the one you accidentally stumbled upon even though there isn’t another house for ten miles in either direction.”

He walks without another word, which means I’m right. He isn’t here by chance.

By the time we get back to the house, I’m a little more relaxed. Whoever he is, he came unprepared and without backup.

I make him go into the house and force him to sit on a chair in the kitchen. He doesn’t even fight me. He looks way too scared to do anything, really.

He only speaks when he sees me picking up the rope. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not lying.”

I take a step toward him. “I don’t believe you.”

His eyes flicker to the door, and he tries to run. I shove him back down by his shoulders and tie him to the chair before I get out the items he had on him.

Flipping open his wallet, I pull out everything inside.

“So, Christopher Wheeler… Wanna tell me why you’re here?”

“Look, man, I’m not lying. I’m no one. A nobody-” My fist connects with his jaw.

His head snaps to the side, and blood flies through the air. Before he gets the chance to recover from the first punch, I follow up with two more. If only he were honest. He’s going to die anyway, but I could end it sooner if he told the truth.

“Please, stop! I’m no one.” His voice is shaking, and I’m pretty sure he is about to cry.

“Who sent you?” I ask between punches. “Tell me, now!”

“I-I don’t know! He just sent me to take some pictures, that’s it!”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know. I swear. This guy contacted me by email. He transferred me money and gave me this address. Told me to get him some pictures of a blonde girl. I’m guessing it’s his girlfriend or something, and he wanted to catch her cheating.”

“When? When did he contact you?” I’m about to shake the fucker to death.

“This morning. He said it was urgent, and he paid me a lot of money, so I drove here right away. I figured it was easy money.”

Easy money? Does this idiot not realize who he is dealing with? Does he not realize he is going to die for that money?

“Did you get any pictures? If so, did you send them to anyone yet?” I ask while digging out the camera. It’s small and compact but has a retractable lens that allows clear long-distance shots. I turn the thing on and look at the little screen on the back.

I almost groan when I see the pictures he’s taken through the window. Pictures of Fallon-naked. My Fallon. Now, he is going to die.

“I got some pictures, but I haven’t sent them yet.”

“Good.” I nod approvingly.

The kid’s eyes light up with hope. “Does that mean you’re going to let me go now?”

I chuckle at his question. “No, kid, unfortunately for you, there is no leaving.”

Matter of fact, I might be the only one leaving this cabin alive.