Page 35 of Queen Of Dark Money

IfIhad to be a captive of a rich dude with a penchant for ignoring pretty girls, then at leastIcould enjoy myself a little whileIwaited for my rescue to come.

Ondayone of the warfare,Isquirted out the first inch or so of his toothpaste and refilled it with shaving cream while he was in his office.Thefollowing day, his curses filled the hallway as he bounded over to my room, shoving the door open in a rage, only to find me topless, changing into a pair of shorts and a new teeI’dpilfered from his collection of clothing.

Daytwo was great.Iswapped out his sugar with salt and watched as he salted up the morning coffee he still refused to share.Thelook on his face as he sucked down that first draughtwas like someone who’d bitten into the world’s sourest lemon and found it rotten inside.

Hestarted locking me in my room after that.

Onday three,Ipicked the locks, snuck into his room while he slept, and snuck all his clothes out of his closet and dresser, hiding them all over the apartment overnight.Imanaged to sneak back into my room, re-lock the door before dawn, and fell asleep to the sweet melody of him screaming about missing socks and wrinkled shirts for the next hour.

Onday four, he zip-tied my hands together before he went to bed.Islipped them easily, chewing through the plastic like butter, and tossed all his silk shirts in the tub.Iturned on the hot water, filled it up, and then tossed in my red underwear.Istirred it nicely and smiled as the dye from my panties soaked from their fabric and leeched into every inch of cream and white there.

That, for him, was apparently the breaking point.

Onday five, he tied me to his chair leg with a fucking dog leash he pulled out of thin air, it seemed.He’deven fashioned a tie as a collar, andIsat there on the floor in a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, like a fucking dog at his heels, obediently waiting for his commands.

Well, not reallyobediently.

Everytime his phone rang,Ibarked like a dog.

Loudly.

Annoyingly.

Afterthe fifth time, he loosened his tie, tugged it off, and stuck it in my mouth to prevent further outbursts.Ispit it out, he’d put it right back in, and on and on we went untilItired of his little game and let it stay between my teeth, growling through it like the dogI’dbeen treated as.

Heeven had the gall to pat me on the head and call me a ‘good girl’ the last time he’d made a call, andI’dkept quiet.

Forsome reason, it sorta turned me on, hearing him call me a good girl.Talkabout fucked up.

Thiswhole thing was getting old fast, andIwas tired of being a menace, so with a sigh,Ishifted to get more comfortable and leaned my head against the side of his chair.Idrifted off to sleep on my knees, sitting beside his chair like a submissive little bitch, exhausted from my late-night pranks and lack of sleep resulting from them and tired of fighting this steely-eyed man.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

JASPER

Thisbitch was getting on my nerves.

Iwas well past losing my damn mind, and every day, she tried something new to piss me off.Currently, she was strapped to the side of my chair like a disobedient dog, a tie stuffed in her mouth to shut her up asIworked.Ithad been blissfully quiet for the last half hour, which shocked me, since she’d been so valiantly fighting the gagI’dgiven her until now.

Aglance at my lap told me why.

Herhair draped over my thighs, soft, flat tendrils of it splayed everywhere as she snored softly around the tie gag in her mouth.Thoselong lashes she tried to bat at me any timeIlooked her way were pillowed on her cheeks, making her appear more innocent thanIknew her to be.

Shecould pass for a spoiled socialite like this.

Almostwithout thinking,Ibrushed the stray hairs from her face, taking pity on her for the whole situation.Itwasn’t her fault she was in this mess.Itwas her father’s.Andaccording to the check-inI’dhad with theKingsthis morning,Sinclairrefused to negotiate with what he called ‘terrorists’ of a domestic nature.He’dinsisted we didn’t have his daughter in custody, told ushe refused to pay for her release, and then went right back to insisting there was no way we had her.

Sothey’d called on me to send proof of life.

Isnapped a picture of her on her knees, her head on my lap, mouth spread open with the gag in it, and sent it along to them, hopingI’davoid any sort of questions.

Ishould have known better.

Asecond afterIsent the image,Kingwas calling–again.Ipicked up on the second ring, eager not to wake this hellcat who’d finally settled down.

“Stone.”

Achuckle greeted me on the other end of the line. “So, playing with the kitten while she’d under your protection, are you?Apicture like that shouldn’t be sent as proof of life, you idiot.Ineed something that looks less like you’re sexually abusing her while we’re holding her hostage.”

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