My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 by Marita A. Hansen

Author:Marita A. Hansen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: agents, fbi, erotica, mafia, bondage, slaves, kidnapped, capture, non consent, italian mafia

5

I headed for my bedroom, wanting to clean and get myself under control. I unlocked my door and entered the sparse room. I didn’t like adornments; I preferred simplicity, a place that was uncomplicated. Nothing touched the white plaster walls nor lay across the plain cabinets that Frano thought were bland, and only bleached white sheets covered my bed, everything simple and easy to clean, because no one was allowed to cross the threshold of my bedroom anymore, not even the maids.

I stripped off my clothes and headed into the bathroom, wanting to wash away the argument with Frano. I slipped into the shower and turned it on, relaxing a little as the warm water soothed my muscles, which had bunched up in Frano’s presence, my anger always getting the better of me. I knew it amused Frano, but his smirking face made it hard for me to control my responses. I hated that he could make me feel like that small child, the one who’d walked into his home twelve years ago at the age of eleven, totally oblivious to what true cruelty was. I had thought my mother was cruel, the woman slapping me if I spoke out of turn or strapping me with my father’s belt if I’d done something that she’d deemed sinful, punishing me into obedience. But a belt to my legs and rear or a slap across my cheek was nothing compared to what I received at the hands of Alberto’s and Frano’s godfather, Padre Michael Donatelli.

I sat down in the shower and laid the back of my head against the glass wall, allowing the water to run over my face. I didn’t want to think of the Padre, I wanted to think of the new slave, because Frano was right, she did look like my first lover, the resemblance uncanny. Was she related to Sophia? But Sophia didn’t have any relatives called Margarita, but then again, I was sure that the woman had lied about her name, because I knew liars and this woman was one. And there was no way I could look exactly like her husband, that was, if she was even married. Everything about her was off, even the contents of her bag. A ninja star? What kind of woman carried a weapon such as that around? I’d seen pepper spray and quite a few guns, a common thing in America, but nothing out of the ordinary like this.

I got to my feet and turned off the water, wondering whether she was a plant, because she had been watching me, and not because I looked like her fake husband. Plus, the way she had rebuffed me was too intense, as though she was acting a part, or overacting it, because she wasn’t a very good actor, only her anger heartfelt, not her indifference. She was after me for a reason, purposely taunting me, and when she didn’t run from that room, succumbing to Alberto far too easily, a woman who packed a ninja star, it spoke volumes.

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