Merciless Prince: A Dark Mafia Romance (Brutal Reign Book 1)

I wake up on the floor.

For an empty moment, I can’t remember where I am. But then the memories of yesterday’s nightmare rush back into my fried brain and I fall onto my back.

It must be morning, or at least earlier afternoon, because the light filtering in through the one window in my cage is a warm yellow, the same color as the top quarter of the stained artwork that obscures my view of the outside world.

The outside world. Does it even exist?

All my life, I’ve been dragged from one gilded cage to the next. Any hope I had of getting to experience life outside of walls like these has been crushed. And still, this confinement is even worse than my father’s, because Aiden has no responsibility to take care of me. From the way he talked about this arrangement yesterday, I’m less of a hostage and more of a debt repayment. He’s not holding onto me until my father pays. My father has already paid.

Aiden is holding onto me until he’s satisfied.

A chill pebbles my skin. The carpet is warm, but a cold wave laps against my inner shores. What will satisfy Aiden Kilpatrick?

Memories of what happened last night shake my heart.

We’ll have to do this again.

That’s what he said right after making me cum all over his fingers. I’m not entirely naïve. He saw my arousal. I saw his. There’s only one end to this, and it involves his cock fucking my virgin pussy.

A coat of dew forms between my bare legs at the thought. But I don’t want to be turned on right now. I squeeze my thighs together, but that only makes the sensation more pleasurable.

Fuck.

I’m so frustrated I could cry. Do I even have any tears left?

My cheeks are raw and my ducts feel empty. Even the ray of hope that I was holding onto last night is barely smoldering.

Father is still alive, I tell myself. He’ll come for me. He’ll rescue me from this beast. He has to. I just have to stay alive until he can.

But how do I do that? Aiden Kilpatrick is so dark and dangerous that he made my father tremble. If I couldn’t stand up to Father, what makes me think I can stand up to Aiden?

But they want different things from me.

The thought of satisfying Aiden’s intentions sends a searing arrow through my heart. Equal parts terror and arousal battle it out, threatening to tear me apart from the inside.

There’s no doubt that my captor is a stunning creature, but why does my body want him so badly? I’ve held out this long in life, why is it only now that I’m breaking down like this? Is it out of fear? Or something more?

The sudden rattle of my bedroom door being unlocked has me scrambling to my feet. I’m not strong enough to fight, but I won’t just sit here and let Aiden take me so easily again. If I stand, maybe then he’ll see that he hasn’t broken me yet.

Although, maybe I want him to think he already has.

But it’s not Aiden who pushes open the door. Instead, two women and a large man greet my gaze.

The man stays put, blocking off my only route of escape, but the women enter. One is older, maybe middle-aged. The other looks like she could be around my age.

“Who are you?” I quickly ask, a timid accusation lacing my words.

The younger woman stops in her tracks, almost like the harshness in my tone was an unexpected slap to the face. Her reaction only serves to fan my flames all the more. What did they expect? I’ve been kidnapped. Surely they know I’m being held here against my will. It wouldn’t surprise me if I wasn’t the first woman Aiden has trapped in this secluded mansion.

“I’m Meave,” the older woman gently responds. Her soft tone almost makes me regret being so harsh. But then I remember where I am, and why I’m here.

“And what’s your name?” I point towards the younger woman. She flinches and I instantly feel bad. What if she’s another hostage?

“That’s Tara, she’ll be helping me today,” Meave says, wandering over to my bed. “You’re not hungry?”

For the first time since I woke up, I realize that there’s a tray of food on the bedside table. A bowl with an assortment of cut-up fruit and what looks like a bowl of porridge sit cold and untouched, just out of my reach. Someone must have come in while I slept. I must really have been exhausted, because usually I’m a much lighter sleeper.

“No,” I lie, crossing my arms. Suddenly, it hits me. I’m still butt naked. In a flurry of panic, I race towards the bed I’ve been ignoring and grab the blanket, wrapping it around myself like a toga. My cheeks are red with embarrassment, but Maeve doesn’t seem phased.

Maybe that’s what made Tara so meek. I shoot the younger woman a glance, but she’s still just as shy as ever. Her eyes are cast on her feet as she rushes forward and grabs the untouched tray of breakfast food.

“You need to eat,” Maeve says, snapping her fingers. Suddenly, the guarded door to my bedroom is filled up with an assembly line of workers. They race in with bundles of clothes, quickly hanging them up in a closet at the far end of the room before hurrying out again. None of them pay any attention to me. Only Maeve dares look.

“I don’t want to eat.” I mumble, feeling childish. Just as quickly as they appeared, the assembly line is gone. In their place comes Tara. She’s carrying a fresh tray of what looks to be lunch. A steaming sandwich surrounded by garden salad.

“Well, we’ll just leave this here anyway,” Meave says. Her eyes don’t betray any sense of emotion. She doesn’t care about this nightmare of mine. I bet she’s been forced to deal with countless helpless captives before me.

Still, when I feel the burn of frustrated tears swelling up in my eyes, I decide to test her resolve.

“This is fucked up.”

“You don’t like roast-beef sandwiches?” Maeve feigns ignorance.

“How many women have you helped Aiden lock up here? Don’t you feel guilty? He bought me, you know? It’s barbaric. How can you work for a man like that?” A flicker of hesitation glazes over Maeve’s eyes. She looks away, but I don’t let up. She does have a soul after all. “Please, help me,” I whisper, rushing up to her so the guard doesn’t hear. But before I can get too close, I trip on the blanket I have wrapped up around me.

A yelp escapes my lips as I fall. But I don’t make it far. A skinny pair of hands scoop underneath my arms to keep me from hitting the floor. When I look up, I see that it’s Tara who has saved me.

I push away from her. Maeve still hasn’t moved an inch.

Help me, I mouth to the younger woman. For a moment, our eyes meet. Fear glistens in hers just as much as I imagine it glistens in mine, but before we can explore that connection, Tara rips her gaze back to the floor and scurries away.

“Mr. Kilpatrick would much prefer it if you slept in the bed, instead of on the floor.” Maeve insists. I just stare at her with contempt as she wanders over to the newly filled closet and gestures inside of it. “Now, if you would please remove the blanket, we have a fine selection of real clothes for you to wear. You are a very pretty young lady, and I think you should wear an outfit that befits your new status.”

A wild sneer comes over my lips. This lady is in on this racket 100%. “You’re no better than him,” I hiss.

But Maeve is immune to my lashes. I must have imagined that little break in her defences. “Please, Elisa. Get dressed. Eat. It will be better for everyone.”

Despite her cold façade, there’s a hint of earnest warmth in the older woman’s voice. Maybe we’re all prisoners here…

My stomach growls and I go limp in defeat.

“Thank you,” she whispers as I sulk over to the closet, feeling no different than I did when I was a trapped obedient little girl with my father.

Maeve makes my bed as I look for something to wear. My outfit can’t be too cute or revealing. I don’t want to invoke any more of Aiden’s lustful wrath, even if a nagging part of me is desperately curious to see how far I can take it.

“I hope you eat, dear,” Meave says into the closet before heading back out the door. With a turn of a key I’m locked back into my cage. Alone again.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips. Cocktail dresses and gala gowns hang in the closet. I have no idea if that means that I’ll eventually get to go out, or if Aiden will just have me dress up for him like I’m a doll, but I’m not about to slip into any of them today.

Nothing comfortable catches my eye until my fingers brush against the softest material I’ve ever felt in my life.

A light grey nightgown falls into my hands. It’s short and a little more revealing than I would like, but my weary skin tingles with warmth at the thought of slipping into it.

Indulge yourself. It’s not like I’m going to get many chances to.

A pit of sadness weighs me down after I put on the nightgown. I practically crawl under the covers of the newly made bed. Through the steam of my sandwich, I can see all the different outfits teasing me from the closet.

They make me think of the outside world. When I was still with my father, the only taste of freedom I would ever really get was when he’d bring me to events that others held in his honor. Without a wife, I guess he needed the soft presence of a woman to ease his sharp edges.

As intimidating as those events were, I still cherished them. Father was often distant, but when he slipped into a suit and I slipped into a gala dress, he seemed so proud to introduce me to those powerful men and woman who cowed to him.

For my part, I imagined it all as practice for when I was actually let out into the world. Sure, by the time I turned eighteen, I was sick of all the glitz and glamor of my gilded cage, but at least through my rare public outings, I was allowed to practice being somewhat normal.

Maybe that’s why I chose the Ukraine of all places for my first real adventure. And maybe that’s why I chose medicine of all fields to obsess on. None of it is glamorous. None of it is ostentatious or self-serving. I thought I’d be able to escape this claustrophobic life, but I should have known better than to hope.

I must drift off to sleep under the heavy covers, because I’m awakened by a tug on my arm.

“Easy there, princess,” Aiden’s whisper is hot and hoarse, like he’s just returned from his fiery throne in hell.

I grunt, still half asleep. A dull throb echoes down from my wrist. “What are you doing?”

No answer.

The first thing I see when my vision comes back into focus is the sole window in the bedroom. The top part is cranked open. Through that slit, I can see a full moon. The pale white light is corrupted as it seeps through the bottom half of the window, and by the time it reaches my captor, the light is blood red.

Aiden takes a step back and admires his handywork.

I try to push myself up, but my hand gets caught on a restraint. With a pang of horror, I realize he has tied my left arm to the bed post.

“Why?” I mutter. My words are heavy, like I’m at the bottom of the sea or in the middle of a nightmare.

“Because I want to hear you talk. And I want to be able to punish you if I don’t like what you have to say.”

My breaths turn ragged from fear. Bathed in the red light of the bedroom window, Aiden looks like the devil personified. His shirt is off, and his muscular ocean of dark tattoos dances in the darkness.

I gulp. That hard powerful body of his could snap me in two without breaking a sweat.

“What do you want me to say?” I manage to sputter out.

“The truth.”

When he steps forward again, I can see that he is furious. A low boiling anger shadows his handsome face, making him look more monstrous than ever.

Slowly, he crawls over top of me, locking me in a cage of his searing flesh. A whimper escapes my lips as he pinches my chin and forces me to look him directly in the eyes.

“Are you ready for me now, princess?”