"Everything?"
"Yes, especially any sexual kinks. Kozlov's preferred submission techniques. Al-Rashid's expectations for physical presentation. Al-Mansouri's bondage requirements. I want to know exactly what each man would expect."
"That's very thorough, boss."
"The threat only works if it looks real." I drain the rest of my scotch. "I want those reports by tomorrow morning so she can study them."
After I hang up, I sit in the growing darkness, thinking about how far I've let this go.
I started with a simple plan: threaten the auction to collect the debt. But now I'm training her, touching her, teaching her things that will haunt both of us forever no matter how this ends.
And the worst part? I still don't know what the hell I'll do if the families don't pay.
Compensate the buyers and let her go? Keep her here indefinitely? Let one of those monsters take her?
No. Fuck that. Never that.
But what's my exit strategy if this bluff fails?
I push the thought away. It won't fail.
My phone rings again. This time it's the bastard, Alessandro Rossi.
"Vitiello? I trust Camilla is being well cared for."
"She's receiving thorough preparation."
"Preparation?" His voice sharpens with interest. "What kind of preparation?"
"The kind that ensures you understand exactly what will happen if you don't pay what you owe." I keep my voice professional. "Premium buyers have very specific expectations. I'm making sure she's ready to meet them."
Let him think about that. Let him imagine his almost-daughter-in-law being trained for men like Kozlov.
"I see. And how long will this preparation take?"
"As long as necessary to motivate you to pay."
"Vitiello, let me be clear, we're not paying you to play house with our former future daughter-in-law. We want this situation resolved quickly and quietly."
Former future daughter-in-law. He’s already considering writing her off.
"Then pay the six million euros and resolve it. Otherwise, I'll continue preparing her for sale, and eventually, one of these buyers will take her off your conscience."
"And if we decide we don't like your timeline?"
"Then you'll find out whether I'm bluffing." I let that threat hang. "Are you willing to take that risk?"
The silence on the other end tells me I've landed the blow. Let him sweat.
I hang up before he can respond, satisfied that I've applied enough pressure.
But the satisfaction is hollow.
I pull out a legal pad and begin making notes. Specific techniques, psychological preparation, physical conditioning. A curriculum that looks like I'm preparing her for the worst.
But as I write, I can't stop thinking about the way she looked at me when I kissed her. The challenge in her eyes. The way she turned my desire into a weapon.
She's going to destroy me. Day by day, session by session, she's going to strip away every defense I have until there's nothing left but the truth I can't face.
