Chapter 1
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Nikki Love
I’m frozen. I can’t breathe. Can’t move. Can’t think past the words I’ve just heard. What I’ve just learned.
“I paid for her, and she’s my property. Nikki Love is mine,” Dario Caraldi had said. His cold, gravelly voice had been filled with menace. There is no mercy in this man.
For the first time, I realize the horror of my situation.
He’s a mob boss.
Avicious criminal.
And he bought me out from under the nose of the scum who tried to rape me.
Sold by my father.
My own flesh and blood has turned me into a slave to this monster.
Right now, I don’t know which of them is worse. But I’m in trouble. Although, I don’t know why I should be surprised. Let down by my dad yet again. And handed over to another man who’ll trade me, treat me like livestock. The only small consolation is that my dear sister,sweet Sophie isn’t the one facing this.
I choke on a sob, trying to pull myself together. The ice bucket I’m holding slips from my unresisting fingers and crashes to the floor. The sound is like an explosion in the silence. In the office, the men spin to face the doorway. For a second, I’m left standing in a pool of ice cubes and champagne.
Nikki…for God’s sake, get out of here!
I turn tail and bolt.
I’m halfway down the corridor when I hear voices. Footsteps thunder behind me.
Oh God, oh God!
In my panic, I’ve turned and run further into the building. The casino floor would have provided safety among the crowd. But now I’m heading past offices and storerooms. Places I don’t recognize. I don’t know who’s on my tail, but they’re gaining ground. My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure it’s going to explode. Ahead is a closed door. Panic surges. If they catch me before I get there, I’m screwed. But if I make it through, I can close it between us. Maybe even lock it.
And then what, Nikki?
He’ll know. He’ll know that I heard them. That I know who he is…what he is.
He’s going to kill me…
The footsteps are so close I cringe in anticipation of a hand reaching out to grab the back of my shirt. Or a bullet between my shoulder blades.
I reach the door and turn the handle. The damn thing resists.
Oh God, please!
And then, thankfully, the handle turns. I fling the door open and throw myself through into some sort of storage unit. I get a fleeting sense of stacked shelving, but it’s too dark to make out much more. And I’m too terrified to pay much attention. I spin to swing the door shut in the face of whoever is behind me. I’m praying there’s a bolt or a key in the lock. I’ll buy myself time. Try to come up with a plan to get out of this mess.
But it’s too late.
Before the door closes, a hand clamps around my wrist in a grip that is crushing. I’m being swung in a wide arc out of my headlong rush. The movement is so abrupt I’m almost afraid my arm has been wrenched from its socket. It leaves me reeling. My vision flickers with panic and pain, and I give a hoarse cry.
The person who has me aims a swift kick at the door, and it crashes shut, leaving us in the darkness. Then I’m being flung up against it, both of my wrists pinned up over my head. The force leaves me winded, and I fight waves of hysteria as I struggle for air.
I don’t get time to get my breath back. Even as I try to fill my lungs, a body slams into mine. Tall, hard, unyielding, he looms over me in the half-light. Silver-gray eyes glitter into mine, and, once again, I’m transfixed by his stare. Dario Caraldi has me in his grasp for the second time in my life. But this time, there’s no promise of pleasure lying ahead. This time, I’ve crossed him.
And I’m paralyzed with sheer terror.
