I glance over at Salvatore, wondering what’s going to happen to me. I should be freaking out, crying and screaming. But I don’t have any more tears at the moment. I’m exhausted from the worry, and besides, can things have really gotten any worse?

The last twenty-four hours have been utter hell. First, I lost one of my jobs. Then I find out I have to vacate my apartment within twenty-four hours. I had nowhere to go. Big Shot next door offered to hold some of my boxes for me. Even offered me his sofa, but that wouldn’t be happening. I had to take him up on the offer of holding my stuff, but I couldn’t stay with him. I feel like I’d be safer roaming the streets then lying on his sofa.

But for some reason, seeing Salvatore was a comfort. I figured out who he was a few days after that first night. I saw a picture of him on the news, but I was shocked for the reason why. The city was thanking him for helping fund a new shelter downtown. It seemed so odd. Days before, I’d seen him kill someone. His name sounded familiar, so I did a little digging on one of the computers at work and found out who he really was.

Kingpin.

I saw small forums and side stories about Salvatore being in charge of the Los Angeles mob, but nobody would confirm anything publicly. My first reaction was panic. I was freaking out, but it had been days since everything went down and nothing had happened to me. In fact, food started showing up at my house every night, and I knew it had to be him. His words were still ringing in my ears asking me if I’d eaten that day. I didn’t understand any of it, but hey, I had to eat.

I glance over at him, but his eyes are on the road. I wonder what he’s going to do with me? Don’t men like him go through women like Kleenexes? Why would he want to take me to his place? This is just going to create problems for me later. I think all of that, but in reality, all I have to go off of are old mob movies I’ve watched. So who knows what the hell this guy is about.

We ride in silence. I can’t find the will to ask any questions. I’m too afraid of what answers I might get. There’s no music on the radio, just the sound of the engine and subtle movements from Salvatore. God, there’s something about his hands I can’t stop staring at. The way his arms clench and relax is mesmerizing.

We enter a neighborhood where all the houses are spread apart. As we drive through, I can’t help but think how lavish it looks, like something you’d see on television. Who is this guy?

We reach a rock wall that seems to go on forever before he pulls up to a gate. Salvatore pushes a button on his dash, and the gate opens. He slowly drives up the long driveway leading to a massive house. It has a stone façade and looks like a smaller version of a castle.

“Am I going to be cleaning this place or something?” I peer out the window, trying to get a better look at the enormous house. Maybe that’s what he’ll do with me. Keep me here to make sure my mouth is shut and his baseboards are scrubbed. But then I think about the pet name he gave me and how he’s treated me so softly. It’s confusing.

He lets out a laugh as his hand comes to mine. He strokes my palm in a light caress as his other one comes to my cheek. I still at the touch.

“I’m going to make sure your hands are as soft as they should be.” I look down and watch as he touches me. I’ve got calluses from working at the diner. “You won’t have to lift a finger if you don’t want to.”

I want to believe him, but can I?

“I’ll have to do something for you in return, won’t I?” I look up at him. Our eyes lock and I see hunger in his stare. He wants me. Deep down I knew that was the reason he brought me here.

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Do they run in your family?” he asks, changing the subject and not answering me. I’m guessing a man like him doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to.

I shake my head, unsure of the answer. I’ve never see someone else with eyes like mine. Maybe in magazines. No one else seems to have the purple that runs along the pupil like mine do.

“Don’t move.” He gets out of the car and comes over to my side, opening the door for me. He offers me his hand and helps me from his car that’s worth more than a house. Clearly he’s beyond rich.

He helps me from the car, pulling me to him and pressing my body to his.

“Why are you doing this? You’re just going to kill me.” I look up at him. His face is unreadable as he stares down at me.

“What have I done to make you think that?” He pulls me even closer so there is no space between our bodies.

“I just don’t understand. I know you want me here for sex,” I say. I pause for a second, and he doesn’t deny it. “I’m sure you have plenty of willing women who can do that for you.” I pull my eyes from him, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I have no idea why I’m talking myself out of being useful to him. I should latch on to anything I can at the moment so I can stay alive. But for some reason it hurts deep down that he wants to use me as some plaything. Maybe I should find a way to escape, but looking at this place, I can already tell it’s a fortress. And where would I go?

“No,” he says. He grabs my hand, locking my fingers with his. “It’s you I want, and it’s you I’ll have.” He walks toward the house, and I have no choice but to move my feet and keep up with him. His grip on my hand is unyielding.

When he gets to the front door, it opens for us, and a man in a uniform steps out of the way and inclines his head to Salvatore.

“Sir,” he says quietly.

“Fred, this is Thea. Thea, is this Fred.”

“Hi,” I mumble. He gives me a small nod as well but doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Everything is ready,” he tells Salvatore.

“Thank you. This way, angel. Let me show you to the room.”

We walk through the entrance and down a long marble-floored hall.

“I’m not having sex with you,” I blurt out.

My face burns with embarrassment all over again when I see an older woman trying to fight a smile as she walks by us holding a stack of towels. Salvatore ignores me like I didn’t say anything. Probably because he doesn’t care what I have to say.

He leads me up a staircase that is made of the same white marble as the hallway. At the top, we have the choice to go one of three ways: left, right, or straight ahead. He goes straight without pausing, leading me down another long hallway. All the walls are covered in paintings that look like they should be in a museum. At the end of the hall, there is a set of black double doors that must be ten feet tall.

“I’m not having sex with you,” I say again, trying to put more force behind it.

His fingers tighten on mine. Then suddenly he turns to face me, and I run into the brick wall of his chest. I look up at him and see he’s smiling down at me now. I wonder what’s made him so happy. “Stop smiling, I’m serious. You’ll have to force me,” I yell.

My breath stills in my lungs, realizing I just yelled at him. I step back, scared he might smack me or something. He’s given me no reason to think he’d do something like that. In fact, when I saw him at my door today, I felt comfort. As crazy as that feeling was, I know who he really is.

What if he’s one of those people who just flips? He goes from one extreme to another. I had a cousin like that and I did my best to give him a wide berth. You never knew who you were getting, and I’m scared Salvatore might be that way, too.

“I’m smiling because I’ve come this far already.”

I have no idea what he means. He wraps his hand around my back, removing the space I’d tried to put between us. He leans down slow enough so that I can see his intentions, and I stand still as his mouth comes down on mine.

I think it’s going to be hard and rough, but it’s not. His lips mold against mine and his eyes fall closed. I keep mine open, looking at him, not wanting to miss this. His mouth works against mine, soft and utterly sweet, like I’m delicate and he doesn’t want to spook me. Then I feel his warm tongue come out and lick the seam of my mouth.

I open a little for him as a dark part of me wants to know what he tastes like. Power flows from him in waves, and I have to know if it’s in his kiss. When his tongue touches mine, my eyes fall closed and I melt into him. My hands go to his chest and my fingers dig into his shirt. There’s not an inch of space between us, and somehow I need him closer.

He moans into my mouth, and something about it gives the power to me. I’ve made him react to me, I’m the one giving him pleasure.

My eyes fly open when I realize what I’m doing. I told him not moments ago that I wouldn’t have sex with him, and now I’m kissing him. I’m a full participant in this and giving him just as much as he’s giving me.

I push hard against his chest. It’s best to stop this now and not to go too far.

He releases my mouth and his eyes fly open. They’re filled with lust and hunger. A smirk plays on his lips, and damn it, he looks good. Too good, because all I want to do is rub myself against him. My body is screaming for me to do it, but somehow I get myself under control.

My hand comes to my lips. I can still feel his mouth there. I’ve never been kissed before. It was more than I ever thought it could be. More than I’d ever fantasized about.

“Come on, angel.” He grabs my hand again, linking our fingers.

When we get to the double doors, he slides a key into one and it unlocks. He swings them open, revealing a giant bedroom.

The first thing I notice is a bed that has to be bigger than a king-size. It’s massive. What does someone even do with a freaking bed like that? We walk inside, and I hear the doors close behind me.

“This will be our room,” he tells me.

“Ours?” I ask. “I said I wasn’t — ”

“You will sleep in the bed with me every night I’m here.”

The look he gives me says this isn’t up for debate. Then ridiculously, I wonder how many nights a week can he be home.

“There are clothes in the closet.” He points over to a door. “The bathroom is there.” He points to another set of double doors. “Freshen up. I’ll be back in a few minutes to collect you for dinner.”

He steps toward me, leaning down, and I know he’s coming for a kiss. I jump back from him, and his nostrils flare. I can tell he doesn’t like my response.

“I’ll never hurt you,” he tells me, but I don’t respond.

There isn’t anything to say. He can say that all he wants, but he’s kidnapped me. He might not physically hurt me, but only time will tell his true nature.

He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You’ll see in time. Now do as I say. I know you must be hungry.”

With those words, he turns and leaves. I hear a lock click into place, and I rush over, trying the knob. Nothing happens. It won’t open. I drop my head against the door.

“Crap,” I sigh in defeat.

I turn around, putting my back to the door, and look around the room. It’s really beautiful. The walls are a deep blue with thick white trim and crown molding. The carpet is pure white, but what keeps catching my eye is the bed. It looks like it’s carved out of wood, and I wonder how anyone got it up here. It’s covered in thick gold fluffy blankets that make me want to jump and land on it just to see how far I can sink down into it.

Shaking that thought away, I make my way toward the closets. When I open the door, I’m surprised to see something the size of another room. This can’t possibly be a closet. There are clothes in it, but it’s bigger than three of my apartments.

I step inside, glancing around at the shelves and racks of clothes that line the walls. Every available surface being used to hold expensive-looking clothing. One side of the room houses tailored suits and the other is full of women’s clothing.

I wonder if he keeps a bunch of different sizes for the women he entertains so he always has something ready if they need it. The thought makes me want to throw up. Being one among many is disgusting to me, and then thinking about being passed along after he gets bored is even worse. On to his next angel, as he calls me. I wonder if he calls all his women that so he doesn’t have to remember their names. I’m sure it’s easier that way.

My aunt used to do that. She’d call everyone babe so she never had to remember anyone’s name or look stupid when she couldn’t recall one. It’s something that has always stuck with me. So much so that I make an effort to always remember everyone’s name.

I shuffle through the clothes to check the tags on them. They’re all in my size. I walk over to the shoes and pick one up to see they’re also my size. Everything looks beautiful. More beautiful than any clothes I’ve ever touched before. Maybe that’s why I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks. He was probably getting my little prison ready for me. Maybe even kicking out the last girl who was in here. If there was someone else here before me, there has to be a trace of her. Right?

Leaving the closet, I walk toward the bathroom. Everything is pure white and covered in marble. Double sinks are set in the center of the far wall off. One of them is a vanity, and I walk over to it, opening the drawers. It’s filled with makeup and perfumes and a few things that I don’t recognize. I open some of the boxes and they all look brand new. Next I go over to the giant shower and look in. I freeze when I see the strawberry shampoo and conditioner there. I use strawberry shampoo and conditioner, but it’s the store brand. It’s far from anything fancy and looks out of place here.

Exiting the bathroom, I go for the nightstand. I start with the one that has books sitting on it. I walk over and pick them up, freezing when I see they are by my favorite author. I don’t have a ton of books because I can’t afford them, so most of the time I just reread my favorites. Setting the book back down with care, I open the nightstand, but it’s empty inside. I make my way over to the other one, but it’s empty, too. This room almost feel like it’s never been used before. Everything in here seems new, or maybe he just has really good cleaners.

Glancing around, my eyes go to the thick gold drapes. I rush over toward them and pull them back. They feel like they weigh more than me as I move them along the bar to get them out of the way. A balcony. I grab the door handle, but it doesn’t open. Frustrated, I pull a little harder, but still nothing. I look down and see a keyhole. It’s an antique lock, like one where you’d normally just leave the key in it at all times.

I want to throw myself on the bed and stay there, with no intention of getting ready for wherever he wants me to go. I have no idea where I’m coming up with the balls to poke a kingpin, but maybe it’s because I feel like I have nothing to lose. Or maybe a part of me knows he isn’t going to hurt me and I want to push a little. Then a forbidden thought creeps in and I remember his dirty threat to spank me. I try to push away the memory, but that one won’t leave me. I shouldn’t trust him. Just like I shouldn’t have let him take me so easily today. Or felt relief when I opened my door and saw him.

I seriously have no survival skills.

My rambling thoughts stop when I notice a door that Salvatore didn’t mention. I walk around the bed toward it, wondering if maybe it’s another way out. Not that I could escape even if I got out of this room. But like always, curiosity gets the best of me and I have to know what’s behind it.

When I turn the knob, the door opens, and excitement flutters through me. Slowly I peek my head inside. When I see what it is, I swing the door open and step in. It’s a baby’s room. The room is decorated in a zoo animal theme. The bottom of the wall is painted to look like a jungle, and the top is a blue sky with birds flying around. The room is set up like at any moment a baby is going to fill it. It has everything it might need. I spin around, taking it all in. A crib, bassinet, changing table, swing, even a car seat sits in the corner.

“Oh my god.” He has a baby. Then it hits me. Maybe he even has a wife. It’s like a punch to the stomach. All the air leaves my lungs. I don’t know why I never thought about that. I can’t recall if I saw a ring on his finger, but maybe he’s one of those husbands who doesn’t wear one. I’m not sure why I find this so shocking or why it’s cutting me so deep. My hand goes to my mouth where he kissed me, and I swear I can still feel him there.

It becomes clear to me now why I’m here. Why I probably work so well to suit his needs. He wants me to be his mistress. To be kept away and no one will ever find out about me. His dirty little secret. For all I know his wife even lives in the house and I’m just in a separate wing. The house looks big enough for that to be possible. Why does that thought disgust me more than when I saw him kill a man?