The lower part of the house is the same square footage as the floor above. It’s a huge space with lots of rooms, and people unfamiliar with it have been known to get stuck down there after taking a wrong turn. There are storage rooms, accommodations for staff, and places I keep inventory if there’s overflow from my warehouses.
The wine cellar is a little different from the rest of the space. It’s guarded by a vault door that requires a code to get in. It’s where I store some of the most expensive wines in the world and a few pieces of priceless art that I don’t particularly want anyone to know about.
Marco, Edward, and I are the only ones with the code. Its location and soundproofing are what make it the perfect place to hide someone.
When I step through the vault door, I bypass the wine cellar and room of antiques and go all the way to the back. As soon as I do, I see Marco standing in front of a man tied to a chair. He’s slumped over in his seat, but I can tell he’s got a busted lip, and one of his eyes is swollen shut.
“Anything new?” I ask Marco, and he shakes his head.
“Nothing.” Marco sighs heavily as he uses a rag to wipe the blood off his knuckles.
“It won’t be long now,” I tell him as I walk over the chair and squat down. “She’s awake.”
My words make the man in the chair sit up so he can look at me. He doesn’t speak, but I can see the understanding in his good eye.
“Tell me everything you know about Jema and you can walk out of here a free man. All will be forgiven.”
Marco makes a low, whistling sound. “He’s a thief and a rat, boss. Are you sure?”
“She’s worth it,” I answer.
The man in the chair presses his lips closed tightly and shakes his head.
Anger boils inside of me, and I want nothing more than to put a bullet between his eyes. I’m not one that takes kindly to being defied, and this motherfucker has defied me over and over.
But he’s smarter than he looks because the only reason he’s still alive is because I need to know more about Jema. As soon as he tells me, I’m going to kill him. He’s the loose end that has to be silenced.
The first time I looked at Jema, I knew she was going to be mine. No matter what, I was going to claim her. So when she ran from me, of course I chased her. Then she fell through the floor, and my world stopped.
Right before she passed out, she said the name Joey. She was there that night to find him. While Marco called our doctor, I found her wallet and discovered her name and where she lived. She didn’t have the same last name as Joey, so I assumed he was her boyfriend. It made me want to hold her even tighter because there was a chance someone would try and take her from me.
When I got her home and settled in, I tried to look for more information on her. I searched for her in the system, but there was nothing. It was like she didn’t exist before her license was made, and it pissed me off. How am I going to convince her that she’s my wife if I don’t know about her past?
That’s when I decided to take matters into my own hands. “Listen to me, Joey,” I say, and the man in the chair stiffens. “I’m running out of patience, and soon enough, you’re going to run out of fingers.”
His wrists are tied to the arms of the chair, and he’s already missing a pinky on his right hand. With what he tried to do to me and my organization, he’s lucky to still have his arm.
Joey whimpers as I grip his wrist and take my knife out of my back pocket. “So what’s it going to be?”
Chapter 7
Jema
I’m going stir crazy. It’s been a few days since I woke up, but besides not having my memory, I feel fantastic. Not that anyone believes me. Salvador treats me like I'm made of glass. At least he still gives me lots of orgasms. It's sweet, and I do love it, but I'm going to lose my mind if I can’t get up and do something. There is only so much they’ll let me do, but it’s not like there are a lot of options even if they did. The house is spotless, and if I had the ability to cook, that’s no longer an option because I can’t remember how.
Salvador keeps telling me that I need to stick to our corner of the estate, but holy hell, I’m ready to get out of this wing and see the rest. Maybe it could even spark a memory and help me get back the rest of it.
My eyes linger on the door, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s locked. Would there be serious consequences if I simply went out on my own? The one and only time I was warned about punishment, I actually enjoyed it. The risk vs. reward has me thinking I should go for it.
If I want to sneak out, right now is the prime time. Salvador left not long ago, so he won’t be back right away. I hurry into the closet to change into a pair of stretchy black pants and grab a sweater with a raccoon on it wearing sunglasses. It must be something I got before the accident because there are still tags on it.
My clothes are odd. More than a few items still have tags on them, but not all. Then there are random clothes that appear well used and stand in stark contrast to the others. All I can think is that they must have been from before I married Salvador.
Absentmindedly, I spin the ring on my finger. I catch myself doing it a lot, but it’s kind of soothing in a way.
I grab a pair of thick socks and finish getting myself together. As I do, I wonder how long it will take my husband to know I've slipped out. Will he track me down? The possibilities are too exciting to resist.
Going to the door, I get excited when I turn the knob and it opens. I notice that there are locks on both sides, which seems odd, but what do I know? It might have something to do with how big the place is.
