Page 9 of Vicious

“You can’t be serious. You’re a lawyer,” I say feebly, not even convinced by my own words. “You can’t own a person.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Chase doesn’t seem perturbed at all. “But let’s be real here; I do own you, and if you attempt to run, if you try to alert any authorities, it’s not just you who would be suffering. Giulio Pavone is such an accommodating friend to have.”

It doesn’t take me long to put the pieces together this time. I’d brought this upon myself by mentioning Chase to begin with. How could I have known he was a human trafficking piece of trash, though? There’s a difference between “can’t take no for an answer” and “psychopath.”

At least, I’d thought there was.

“Lucky you,” I snap. “All the money in the world, all the influence, and you still have to buy a girlfriend.” I slow clap for him. “Congratulations, Chase Vicious. You’re now officially the most despicable person I’ve ever met.”

And considering I now know Giulio Pavone, that is really, really fucking saying something.

“Oh, May. You have no idea how despicable I can be.” Chase laughs. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

If I thought things were bad before…

Well.

There are no words to describe how badly I am fucked now.

CHAPTER 3

May

Over the past year, I’ve declined Chase Vicious’s invitations for dinner and dates over and over again. I’d fought him despite how many times he’d tried, even when he’d sunk so low that he’d tried to invite both me and my father in an effort to get me to give in.

There’s no avoiding it anymore.

I look out the window to see the detached home nestled between a surprising number of trees. The house isn’t as large as I might have expected from a man like Chase Vicious, but I know the location, the privacy, and the surrounding nature all mean this must be a multi-million-dollar house.

Chase drives his car into the two-car garage and lowers the garage door. The second parking spot holds a truck, a far cry from the luxury sedan we’re currently in.

“Are you going to be obedient, or do I have to subdue you before I unlock the car?” Chase asks with open amusement. “I’m fine either way.”

“I’m sure you are,” I say tartly, mostly to keep myself from panicking at the idea that after all this time, he’s finally going to have me alone. I don’t know what he plans on doing with me.

I almost laugh because that’s a complete and total lie.

He’s going to fuck me, and he’s going to hurt me, and he’s going to find out just how inexperienced I am with handling either.

“I’ll behave,” I add.

For now.

“Shame,” Chase says, and gets out of the car.

Yeah, I’m sure he does think it’s a shame. Asshole.

He opens the door for me and extends a hand. “Welcome, dear May. Let’s give you a tour of the place.”

“I can hardly wait,” I mutter, trying my best to rely on snark so I can pretend I’m not shaking, so I can pretend I’m not completely and utterly terrified. I bat at his hand to get him to move it, determined to get out by myself.

Chase doesn’t seem fazed at all, letting me step out. “Oh, lovely May. I was definitely right about you.” He places a hand on the small of my back and urges me toward the door to the house.

I bristle at his casual touch, but what am I going to do? Run out of the house wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini and an ill-fitting coat into the middle of nowhere?

The door leads to a laundry room, and from there, we enter the kitchen. It’s modern and stylish, with enough room for somebody to cook for a large party.

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