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The car ride to his house is long.

Either because he lives far away from Matteo’s mansion or because I’m in writhing pain. But as long as it is, I wish that the car ride would never end. Because I know what is coming when the car finally stops and as much suffering as I’m in now, it will be nothing compared to the torture I will be left with when he rapes me.

I can come back from a broken leg, but I’ve prosecuted too many rapists. I’ve met with their victims. Once brutality like that happens to you, you’re never the same. For some, it makes some of them stronger. Others debilitated and timid. Either way, it always makes them afraid. Fearing other people. Scared of the violence. Terrified of life.

I don’t want to live life afraid of getting raped again. I’ve spent the entire trip trying to come up with a plan. Some way to escape. I’ve tried finding a way to fix my leg so that I could run, but that would be impossible even with the best of equipment. I need a doctor.

&nbs

p; I’m surprised that Armas was okay with me bleeding all over his fancy leather seats. I guess he feels kidnapping me so that he can rape me makes it worth it.

I’ve tried thinking back to all my training about how to defend myself against an assaulter, but even if I’m able to do some damage to him, all my instruction was around the fact that I could temporarily injure my assailant while I ran away to get help.

I can’t run.

And there is no help coming.

Armas may not be as rich as Matteo, but judging by the mansion buried deep in the woods that the car stopped in front of, Armas has plenty of money. Money buys loyalty and silence.

No one is going to help me.

Armas steps out of the car and slings my door open. I kick with my uninjured leg, trying to fend him off. Adrenaline takes over and helps with the pain.

He seizes my leg, and I fight in his grasp. He yanks my leg, and I’m pulled out of the car. I crash to the ground, not registering much of the new pain. My head hits the door, which should add a headache to the list, but a headache doesn’t even register on my pain scale.

“You are just what I need.”

He smirks.

Bile rises in my throat as he undresses me with his eyes. He’s sick.

I won’t let him win.

I narrow in on his crotch and kick with all my might. I hit my target, but it’s not enough.

He laughs, a high-pitched annoying sound. He takes a step back as he snaps his fingers.

My eyes search around him, to see who he summoned with the snap of his fingers. A butler? His dogs? I could handle either.

Two men, in dark suits, start running toward us.

Damn it. I can now spot a guard anywhere. Even well dressed guards.

Both men cower by their master’s side. He glances down at me, and they both automatically reach down and clutch my arms. I try unsuccessfully to get them off for only a second before they stand me up. I balance on my good leg while I glare at Armas.

“I thought you only dealt with legal things? What would you need men like this for if you were on the straight and narrow? They are experienced in handling women if all they needed was a look to grab me.”

Armas steps forward, standing inches from me, now that he has his men to hold me back and I can’t do anything to harm him.

“I said my business was lawful; I never said that I wasn’t a monster.”

“You’re a coward. You won’t even face me alone. I’ve got a busted leg, and you still couldn’t take me alone.”

My stomach churns looking at his devilish grin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have you alone soon.” He glances at the man on my right. “Take her to my bedroom and make sure she’s secured with handcuffs.”

The man’s eyes widen as he stares down at my leg. “I’ll confine her, but I don’t think it’s necessary. She’s not going anywhere.”


Tags: Ella Miles Dirty Erotic