Page 4 of Owed to the Billionaire

Freeing his thick, heavy member from his slacks, he hit my face with it, smearing my lips with my own blood and his pre-cum. “I said to open your damn hole!”

Too terrified to process his words, I stared at his cock, wild-eyed. A second brutal slap knocked me over, landing my head hard against the tiles and leaving me dazed and almost unconscious.

A second pair of hands dragged me back into position, while four gloved fingers pressed against my tongue, prying my jaw open.

Please, God, make them stop…., please make this stop….

Words died as my mouth filled, gagging and choking, when the man’s cock shoved violently against my throat.

“There you go, hole. Take my cock.” My aggressor held my head in place, thrusting at a rough pace. Tears ran down my face as my airflow was blocked, suffocating me and making me throw up in my mouth. I was silently screaming and panting for air, feeling the walls close in on me and the world spin above my head.

“Make room,” one of the other men said, as someone pried my knees apart, shoving a couple of fingers up my ass, excruciatingly hard.

The cock in my mouth jolted forward with a spasm, buried deep in place, until my entire world went black.

I woke up in a dark box, to the soothing lulling of a car in motion. It took me a second to get clarity but, when every memory came crashing down, so did the searing headache and the burning pain in my raw throat. Crawling to what seemed like the back of a truck, I pounded on the door, looking for a way out, ready to jump from the running vehicle if needed.

But there were no knobs, no doors and no windows and I figured we were going at enough speed that no one would hear my screams from the back of the steel box I was in.

Finally, the car came to a stop, and I was dragged out of the SUV.

“Good morning, princess.” The man with the heavy accent mocked.

I stumbled, falling over the slightly damp grass. We were at a large, imposing mansion, surrounded by high walls and security cameras. They hustled me inside, down a long corridor, and into a luxurious room. My mind went into immediate survival mode as I crawled to a corner in fear, trying to cover my naked body with the bottom of the velvet curtains. But my captors just turned around, without a second glance, leaving me alone, confused, and emotionally wrecked.

The room was lavishly decorated with a king-sized bed, a plush sofa, and a small bathroom connected to it. But there were bars on the windows, and the door was locked from the outside. I was a prisoner and probably not the first this sumptuous room had ever held.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my mind reeling.

Who are these people…? Why me? My gut feeling already knew the answers, but my mind had not accepted them yet. Please, Ryan, come save me from your mess… A terrifying realization came to mind. Ryan. Oh, my God…. He never came home…. For all I knew, Ryan could already be taken, or dead.

Chapter 4

Michael

My thoughts were cut off by the door creaking open. I glanced up and saw this tall, intimidating guy walk in. He had on this perfect dark suit, hair slicked back, looking all powerful and in control. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t help but feel scared. I grabbed the curtain with shaky, cold hands, looking down immediately. But despite the fear, I couldn’t ignore the weird, unsettling pull I felt when I caught a glimpse of his cold, calculating eyes. There was something about him that was hard to look away from, even though I really wanted to.

“Hello, Michael,” he said smoothly. “My name is Vincent Salvatore.”

I recognized the name Salvatore from my brother’s conversation, and I cowered against the wall, expecting the same brutal treatment I’d received from his hitmen.

Instead, he walked slowly and stayed at a distance. “May I look at your face?”

Frozen in place, I kept my head down, unable to make eye contact.

When I didn’t move, Salvatore took a couple of steps forward, grabbing a blanket from the bed and crouching next to me to carefully place it over my shoulders. I instinctively wrapped myself with it, letting go of the curtains and curling into an even tighter ball. He gently lifted my chin, sighing in disapproval at what he saw.

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you want from me, Salvatore?”

Salvatore’s thumb brushed over my broken lip as he glanced at the injured side of my head with concern. “Please, call me Vincent. First, I want to apologize for the way my men have treated you. It is unacceptable and they will be reprimanded for that.”

Reprimanded? Your men beat me, kidnapped me, and almost raped me and you are gonna “reprimand” them? I felt the heat of anger and frustration creep on me but, just as strongly, I felt an absurd surge of gratitude for his consideration.

He walked over to the bathroom, coming out with a wet hand towel.

“Please, come.” He sat on the bed and motioned for me to sit next to him.

I stood up with hesitation, wrapping the blanket tighter around my body, and sitting by his side with unease. As he reached over with the cloth, wiping some of the dry blood from my face; I flinched. “I won’t hurt you, Michael. Relax.”

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