Ruthless Captor: A Mafia Romance (Corrupt Minds Book 3) by Camille Alexander

Author:Camille Alexander [Alexander, Camille]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

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CELINA

Great! My plan was working. Catch more flies with honey. I wrote a list of ingredients down for Giani and slipped the paper under the door. Honestly, I would dine with a serial killer if it meant I could eat a decent meal. After he left, I had a warm bath and cleaned up a little. I pretended that I was going on a date. That would help me get into the right frame of mind. I didn’t want my plan to go tits up, so I had to be nice and behave myself, or at least try.

After I titivated, I did my nails and wore the best outfit from the options he brought me. Apart from killing someone I thought I knew, knocking me unconscious twice, and feeding me crappy sandwiches, my captor could do a lot worse. Sex aside, I had hope that I wouldn’t come out of the situation too mortified.

I applied lipstick and mascara. The fillers, concealers, and all that stuff was really just to punish him. I wasn’t a makeup girl, anyway. With my mother’s black hair and dark eyes, and my high cheekbones, I didn’t need much to look decent. I was thankful for that. Wasting time in front of the mirror in the mornings wasn’t my idea of being productive. My brain was more important to me than my eyelashes.

I lay on the bed afterward and chilled for a while. The stress of the situation caught up with me, and the promise of better things to come put me right to sleep. There was the distinct possibility that wolfing down a pizza may have contributed to my fatigue. It was dark when I woke up; still half asleep, I wondered what the time was. I heard the key turn in the lock and saw from the light shining from the passage that Giani was looking at me from the doorway. He stood very still as if I were a child he didn’t want to wake.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Wanna start dinner?”

“How long have I been out for?”

“A good couple of hours. I checked in a few times, but I didn’t want to wake you up. It looked like you could do with a few hours of sleep.”

“Thanks, I feel better.”

“Come on, get your ass into the kitchen. I don’t buy you expensive facial products and top dollar deli sandwiches so you can laze around the bedroom all day.”

“Haha. Just wait for my bill. Watch the mail.”

And there it was! Stockholm Syndrome hit me—it had to be. I didn’t even like the creep. He was the best lover I’d ever had, but that aside, he was a jerk. Wasn’t he?

The green mile down the passage to the kitchen was peppered with deja vu. I tried not to look at the spot where he kissed me into submission. I was ashamed to admit it to myself, but I got hot just thinking about it. The isolation had clearly made me soft in the head.

I wasn’t as nervous as I was the first time I cooked for my captor.

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