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He could buy me from my family for a promise of a better life. He could buy me for money, do what he wanted to me, treat me like I was a fucking dog . . .

But to steal my virginity he had to follow the terms placed before him. He was expected to flaunt me around—which he did—he was expected to train me and make me obedient to his commands. And he tried, he tried like hell to make me crumble.

I hadn't been submissive like he wanted. But the beatings came, and I learned to control the situation. I knew how far to take it, and I knew when to back off.

I became stronger, better at reading people and what they were thinking. I also knew that Remo wanted the one thing from me he had paid for.

The sex was coming, I had been with him for two months. And after he had proven that I was broken beyond repair and subservient to my new handler, I was his and he was free to do what he wanted. And that included taking the last bit of innocence I had left.

The smooth and weathered stairs creaked under my feet. I could feel the pad of my foot scuffing against cracks in the worn surface, catching on small frayed splinters. “So, this is where you'll do it? You're going to kill me up here?”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Does it matter? If I don't talk, you're going to kill me. If I do talk, you're going to kill me.” Pausing for a second, Dante pushed his fist into my lower back to keep me moving.

“I didn't say that. But you're really testing my limits, Doll.” His hand tightened around my wrist, tugging my arms down hard. “Don't push me, that won't help you.”

“Help me, what the fuck is going to help me? You're leading me to my death, do you need to drag it out? Just do it already.”

I felt the life draining away. Well, what life I had left. Remo had done a great job of breaking me down for this motherfucker. I was strong willed, but there was only so much one person could take.

How the hell I would ever get out of this, I wasn't sure.

And what was I going back to? Turning into a sex slave?

Fuck that.

“You don't sound like someone who's afraid of death.”

“Maybe that's because I welcome it.” Reaching the top, he led me into the first door on our right. “It's not like I have much to live for.”

Dante cleared his throat, yanking a chain out from behind the dresser. Wrapping it around my waist, he pulled it tight, and locked it. “Most people are begging for their lives by now. You should be crying for mercy and forgiveness.”

“I won't beg.”

“You're going to beg.”

“I won't, not for my life. If you were going to let me go, you would've by now.”

“If I was going to kill you, I would've by now.”

“Maybe you want more, maybe you want what those other assholes tried to get.”

His laugh came out full and thick, thumb tapping his jaw. “Maybe you shouldn't have met those other guys, maybe they were out of line.”

Rolling my eyes, I snarled.“Maybe.But meeting you hasn't turned out to be much better either.”

His face locked on mine, eyes settling over my lips. “Sit tight, I'll be back.”

“What? No.Don't leave me here like this.” Holding the thick chain in my hands, it felt like ice cold torture. I was trapped.

Why is he doing this? Why is he keeping me here like this?

His lips thinned as he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. I watched the handle jiggle, heard the clank of the lock setting in place.

My chest started to thud as my heart sped up. My pussy was hot, and I felt sick about it. I should be hating this man, but I couldn't stop the wetness from seeping down and coating my inner thighs.

Dante was evil, and pantie melting, cold, and filled with fire. His jaw was firm, solid, covered in light stubble that I couldn't stop from picturing between my thighs. A sick twisted need had started to fill my stomach, and buzzed over my most delicate parts, wanting him in the worst way possible.