9. Trading Pleasure for the Guarantee of Life

9. Trading Pleasure for the Guarantee of Life
He has no use for me now. And why would he let me go?

"I'm going to die." The first truthful words I've spoken in days. Days of being exhausted and sleeping in bed. Days for my body to recover, just to come to the realization I was useless to Nicolo. A liability, and what was done to liabilities? I was a goner. But why would he let me heal just to kill me? It didn't' make sense, but somewhere deep in my gut was unease. The only thing I have left to offer him is sex. Servitude. Like he wanted. Could I do that? Could I become a sex slave to save my life?

It wasn't the fact I would willingly let a man control me like a dog that frightened me. It was the fact my insides clenched deliciously as a response to being in his sexual control. I was clearly ill. Fucked up in the head. No sane woman would find her captor sexually appealing. How could they? How could I?

I smacked myself on the forehead, and let out a sharp hiss of air. "You're fucked up." I muttered. That was the only explanation. Clinging to an act of heroism by Nicolo. Savoring the fact he rescued me from abuse inflicted by one of his henchmen. It was certifiable.

You don't have a choice. I wished I was strong enough to choose death over the alternative. Die with pride. Choose to be the stronger human being and go out with dignity. But that sounded more like Margo, and I was not her. I held on to life like a helpless infant. I would do what I had to in order to survive.

A knock on the door resounded around the room, ripping me from the torments of my thoughts.

"Selena?" Jay called from the other side of the door. I relaxed at the sound of his voice. He was the nicest man working for Nicolo. Actually, the nicest relative under Nicolo's wing, I guess. Jay happened to be his cousin. Very young to be involved in work so morbid, but cheerful nonetheless. He didn't have much of a choice. It was the family business after all.

"Come in." I called. The door was pushed open and Jay stuck his head in. I smiled gently at him, ignoring the sympathetic look that fleeted across his soft, brown eyes.

"Nicolo wants to see you in his office."

I can't shield the surprise on my face. Nicolo has been letting me rest this past week. Especially considering my rib won't be fully healed for a couple of weeks.

"Oh... okay." I tossed the blanket off of me and slipped out of bed. I winced as my side ached, but shook my head at Jay as he stepped forward to help. "Not this morning. I can do it. I will be ready in twenty minutes."

Jay nodded and left the room without argument. He knew it would be pointless to argue with me. I always made my point clear and it never ended in his favor. How would I convince Nicolo to let me live? To take me as he wished, and to do with me whatever he'd like? I could wear something revealing and throw myself at him? The thought made me recoil in pain. How pathetic. How desperate.

I shrugged. I was in no position to negotiate.

My closet was filled with flawless garments. All expensive. All overly pretentious. I chose a tight white dress that fell midthigh. The dress accentuated my curves, and I was sure my body wouldn't go unnoticed by even Nicolo.

The mirror in the bathroom confirmed my suspicions. I looked a wreck. My curls were an untamed mass of snakes. I resembled medusa. Stare at me, and I was sure anyone would turn to stone. It's no wonder Jay didn't put up a fight with me. His insides were already dust. The thought made me laugh. The first laugh that was actually portrayed in my eyes.

I turned the faucet on and wet my curls. After taming them and a quick motivational, but fake, smile in the mirror I headed towards the door.

Pulling it open, I watched amused as Jay stumbled to catch himself from falling backwards. His face turned red with embarrassment. He ran a hand through his blonde mop, and shrugged sheepishly.

"Did Nicolo send you to babysit me?" I questioned. After further review, I was allowed to roam the halls as I pleased. With as many people around as there were, there was no way I was making an easy escape.

"No, I actually think he sent me to cheer you up."

To say I was surprised was an understatement. Still, I trudged alongside of him until we reached Nicolo's office. The same ominous feeling I got when I first walked in fell over me, and I half expected to see a dead body lying on the floor. Maybe Joshua's this time. Nicolo was pristine. As always. I never witnessed him unkempt. It was disturbing to see someone so put together all the time. It was like he was inhuman.

He looked up as we entered. His eyes unblinking, his expression impassive. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. For all I knew he was going to draw a gun and unload the clip in my head. I shook. I attempted to appear calm but I was far from. The air smelled like my impending doom. My eyes were clouded with the possibilities of my untimely demise, and as I stood there in his power all I could think about was if I remembered to tell Margo I hid the television remote on top of her refrigerator the night we got drunk after I found out Joshua was cheating.

I felt like laughing, but didn't dare let it slip from my lips. Not now. Not when my fate was so uncertain.

"Jay, leave us." He commanded. Jay didn't hesitate departing, but he shot me a look of encouragement on his way out and I resisted the urge to give him a bear hug for at least being a decent human being. Nicolo's eyes skirted over my attire. I noticed the way his jaw clenched as his eyes lingered on my cleavage.

"What are you wearing?" His voice was low and menacing. Husky even. I no longer recoiled from him when he spoke. In fact, I could feel my body being pulled toward him. Like some invisible rope was tied around my genitals being dragged to him.

Dramtic. Dramatic and delusional. I could only imagine what Nicolo would say if he could read my thoughts.

"I-it's a dress." I choked out in response.

"I'm aware... but what are you wearing?"

"I-I'm not sure what you're asking." Despite his own lack of explanation, I felt incompetent for misunderstanding him. That's the effect he holds over people.

"I'm just trying to understand why you're so dressed up."

"Do you not approve?" I rushed, tugging at the bottom of the dress nervously. This was not going as planned. Sexy was the farthest thing I was. I probably looked like a child. "It's one of the dresses that was in my closet." I added, hoping that might change the thoughts in his mind. Whatever they may be.

He remained silent. It worsened my anxiousness. I fidgeted under his gaze, before deciding to speak up. Now was my chance. I could explain to him why I was worth keeping alive.

"Do you like me dressed like this?"

He frowned. The question seeming to have caught him off-guard. I decided to keep going with it. "Because, I'll dress however you'd like." My voice quivered. I took a step towards his desk. "I'll do whatever you'd like. I... I can be useful."

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing curiously. He pushed back from his desk and stood, before sauntering over to me. He raised his hand towards my face, dragging his thumb along my cheek before slipping over my lower-lip. My eyes fluttered shut, trapping the tears that began to pool in them.

He chuckled.

My lids fluttered open. Why was he laughing? My brows furrowed from his response, and he dropped his hand from my face.

"And you were under the impression that you get to decide that for yourself? I decide if you're useful."

"I can be. You said you wanted me. Well I'm willing for everything." I urged. I could no longer recognize my own voice. Filled with desperation.

"You're forgetting something, Bambina." He shook his head slightly, and bit his lower lip before sighing. "You're supposed to beg."

"What do you want me to do?" My gaze drifted to the floor. My voice was barely a whisper.

"Show me how much your life is of value to you... because right now, you seem pretty worthless." His words knocked the breath out of me. He was right. Were these the actions of a woman fighting for her life? Was I being persistent enough? Showing him just how far I was willing to go.

"Come." He moved past me. "Are you good with children?"

His words confused me. I nodded my head. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then for now I have use for you." He stated before briskly walking out the door. I followed suit like the obedient bitch I was to become.



The little girl staring back at me was gorgeous. Blonde hair, blue eyes and petite. Very small for her age, and yet her eyes seemed aged beyond years. She sat quietly in a seat out in the foyer. I stood across from her, beside Nicolo as he discussed something with the man who brought her here. Her father I presume.

His hair wasn't blonde. In fact, they didn't have much resemblance apart from his eyes. Dark locks covered his head, but his eyes were the same mesmerizing blue. The color of a Greek sea. She appeared well behaved. Not most children were at the age of seven.

"Selena." Nicolo snapped. I blinked quickly before averting my gaze to him. His eyes darkened – if possible – and he grabbed ahold of my arm yanking me towards them. "This is Clyde Parker."

I greeted him with a polite smile, despite the increasing pressure on my wrist. "You will be watching over his daughter while we discuss business."

My mouth fell agape. I wasn't a babysitter. This was no place for a child, but I couldn't voice those things. Things so obvious. Not here. I was nobody. So I swallowed my opposition and nodded sharply. My hair fell in my eyes and I swooped them back with my free hand.

"Thank you, Selena." Clyde addressed. His faint accent was of a British man. He seemed genuinely kind. "Momo is a peculiar child. I'm sure you'll make the most of your time spent. As for us men, we have much to discuss."

Nicolo released me. I instinctively clutched my aching wrist with the other hand, and rubbed gently. He ignored me, as him and Clyde disappeared down the hall. I smiled down at Momo. She didn't return my smile as I neared her. In fact, she appeared most disinterested.

"Hello Momo. I'm Selena." I offered my hand to her. She glanced at it, and back up at me, before reaching out to shake. Her hand was small in mine. I was briefly afraid of crushing her little fingers.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

The corner of her lips twitched upwards.

"Follow me." I instructed. She climbed off the chair and began to walk alongside me. Her little heels clicked against the floor. Filling the chilling silence.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to eat?"

"Shrimp Scampi." She announced. I was taken aback that she even knew the type of dish. I shot her an amused look.

"My, I'm surprised. Children don't usually like seafood dishes." I pushed on the door leading to the dining room and held it open for her. She took a hesitant step into the room.

"That's because I'm not a child."

"You're not?" I questioned. She appeared insulted. Her blue eyes rolled, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"No. I'm not."

"Well then. Shrimp Scampi it is." I gestured to the dining room table. It was huge compared to her. She strode towards it with confidence. "Take any seat you'd like. I'll let them know what you'd like to eat."

"Chocolate milk to drink." She added. I smiled as I walked towards the kitchen. Chocolate milk and shrimp scampi. Two completely different things. It was like she was fighting to be a child, but mature all at the same time.

The chef – Quin – scrubbed the counters as I entered. He looked up at me, a quizzical look between his brows. "Can you make shrimp scampi? We have a little guest that Nicolo insists be treated well."

Quin nodded. "Chocolate milk to drink." He raised his brow. "She's seven." I relinquished.

"Ah, that makes sense. It will be out shortly." He replied. I left him and headed back to Momo, praying she didn't try to make an escape for it while I was occupied. Nicolo would have my head. She sat at the table, her finger intertwined, while kicking her legs under the table.

"Your order has been placed, Momo." I pulled the seat out across from her. What did Nicolo expect me to do with her? There weren't much kid friendly things here. Eating was the best idea that popped into my head, but what happens when she's done? Was I supposed to show her a collection of assault weapons? Maybe teach her the exact points to stab someone and paralyze them? This place was like a murderous museum waiting to corrupt every innocent soul that entered.

"So, Momo – what do you like to do?" Small talk was the only way I knew to get through awkward situations. Then again, it was usually with people my own age or older, never with a child.

She shrugged. "I have a doll."

"That's nice." I said enthusiastically.

"Daddy gave it to me. He said it would protect me from the bad man."

"Bad man?"

"The man that comes into my room at night. Well, used to." I disregarded it as an imaginary friend she was conjuring up. Kids always seemed to have many imaginary friends.

"Daddy said the bad man wouldn't touch me anymore, as long as I had my dolly."

"The bad man touched you?" I couldn't mask the horror in my voice. Kids didn't just conjure this type of shit up.

"Yes. Under my nightgown. He hasn't since I got the doll. Daddy was right."

Oh my god... She was being molested. The thought sickened me. Here I was, just having met the adorable little girl, and she was casually talking to me about the man who would go into her room and touch her.

"Who was the man, Momo?"

"I don't know. Daddy said the doll would take care of that." She smacked her feet together.

"Where's the doll now?"

"At home. I wanted to bring her, but Daddy said she needed to rest."

"N-needed rest."

"Have you been touched by the bad man? You act like you have." She muttered. My legs shook violently under the table. Her question hit home. You act like you have.. I knew exactly what she meant. I acted like I was taken advantage of, because I was. I acted like a scared, skittish, shell of a woman because a bad man had gotten a hold of me, and one almost raped me. Her and I were the same. Except, I didn't have a doll to protect me; Something to make it all go away, and I wasn't naïve to the reality of the situation. I couldn't run off to some fairy-tale land and pretend everything was alright. I was stuck in my hell; the bad man was my life now.

My eyes burned with the onset of tears.

"I wish my doll was here." She mumbled, her brows furrowed. I rubbed at my eyes, and molded my lips into a smile.

"Why, Momo?"

"Because you need it..." She stated annoyed.

She was right.



It was well past lunch by the time Nicolo and Clyde interrupted a heated match of hopscotch. If Nicolo was upset about the walkway being defiled by vibrant colors of chalk, he didn't show it. I secretly applauded him for being so polite in front of Momo. She truly was an extraordinary girl. Just one that got caught up in the shit in this world. Innocent to it all, who still didn't know what it meant.

I waved her goodbye as she got in the backseat of a car with her father, and watched them pull away. I had come to terms early about what I was to do to save my life. I would give in. I would surrender to the feelings of lust I denied I had for Nicolo. I'd let them take over completely. Give myself to him, with the painful uncertainty of whether he would accept it or not.

"I won't be needing you for the rest of tonight. You can retire to your room." He stated flatly without so much as a glance in my direction before disappearing once again. My confidence wavered, but I wasn't going to back down. Not yet. Not when I could have some semblance of control.

I raced towards his office. Assuming that's where he would be, but it was empty. I had yet to be shown where he slept. So, it was a blind race from bedroom to bedroom. I stepped into the library. A whole wall covered with books. My eyes widened in awe. The books on the top shelf would have to be received by a ladder. This was a haven. A place to bury myself, to lose myself and run away from the pile of shit that was my life.

My eyes flickered to a door along the far side wall. A faint rustling pushed my legs further towards it. I pressed my ear to the door, but the rustling stopped. My interest dipped and my anxiety peaked.

"You can do this." I whispered. "You have to." I gripped the doorknob and twisted it, before pulling it open quickly.

Nicolo stood by his bed. A large king, covered in satin sheets. His phone was pressed to his ear, and upon my intrusion, he muttered a quick goodbye and slowly lowered his hand. He looked malevolently at me. If I could have hidden, I would've. I was sure his gaze would turn me to melted flesh.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He tested. I stepped further into the room and shut the door. My boldness slightly faltering as he clenched his hands into fists.

"I want you." I rasped. My words were unconvincing. Even to myself, despite the truth. "P-please." I brought my hands down to the hem of my dress and dragged the fabric up my thighs, revealing my lacy, black thong. My side stung with pain as I pulled it up my torso, struggling to pry it over my breasts. After slipping my head out of the dress I tossed it to the floor. I was braless. My nipples stabbed the air painfully. In those moments, I couldn't tell if it was from the chill of the room, or from my own need to be controlled.

His expression didn't change. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he appeared more agitated than pleased.

"Want?" He shoved the phone back into his pocket. Juggling my words on his tongue, like he was taking interest in them. "Lust?" He chuckled humorlessly as his fingers grasped the tie around his neck. "You don't know the meaning of the word, Selena." He scoffed, and began to unravel the tie from around his neck. My eyes flickered to the exposed skin of his chest as the top button came undone.

I regained my composure and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. Secretly hating myself for noticing the curve of his lips, the sharp, defined edge of his jaw and the way his dark eyelashes kissed his cheek when he blinked. He was breathtakingly handsome, almost angelic but far from an angel. I was convinced he was the Devil.

"To crave something with such animalistic, relentless wanton and using everything in your being to control yourself –" He pulled the tie off his neck and wound it around his hand, while taking a step towards me. The slight accent laced throughout his voice enticed me, as a shudder ran through my body. "Lust will drive you delirious..." With one hand, he played with the buttons on his shirt, popping another one open to expose the strokes of ink along his chest. My chest heaved as I became breathless. He removed his hand from his chest and brought his fingers up to my face to graze my jaw, traveling slowly down to my collarbone.

"So tell me Selena... are you delirious?"

My eyes fluttered shut briefly, as the one word of surrender left my lips.

"Yes." My eyes shot open, watching as a slow, devious smile spread on his lips before he pulled away.

"Touch yourself."

"W-what?" I choked. He wanted me to pleasure myself in front of him? The act seemed so intimate.

"Now."

"B-but –"

"That's what I thought. You don't care about yourself. You don't care about your pathetic little life. You're pretending to be stronger than you are. Get out of my fucking sight." He spat.

It was enough to push me over the edge. My eyes softened. I did care about my life.

He watched as I slowly raised my finger to my lips, darted my tongue along the tip to coat it with my saliva and slipped it into my panties.

The jolt of pleasure through my body as I circled my clitoris wasn't near the level of satisfaction that consumed me from Nicolo's widened, surprised eyes.