When she’s not crafting new stories, you can find her drinking way too much coffee, indulging in TV shows, or playing with her adorable dogs.
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Taking Aria by Sienna Grant
Prologue
ARIA
The sound of the lock turning has me on high alert. My skin prickles and my breathing escalates as I grip the edge of the mattress in my fingers, although It’s not like I’ve been hurt while I’ve been here. In fact, I’ve been fed and given water, but I still don’t understand why I’m here. Is this what happens when you spill a drink on someone drunk? Because that’s all I did. If this is something to do with Gabe, that asshole is going to pay, if I ever get out of this alive.
The huge guy I know as Carl comes in with more food, and he places the tray on the bed.
“No thanks.” I tell him before he even speaks.
“The boss won’t be happy you’re still not eating.”
“Do I give a shit?” I probably shouldn’t antagonize him but I literally have nothing left. “Why am I here? I haven’t done anything wrong. If this is because of Gabe, I swear…” tears fill my eyes, and I feel them roll down my cheeks, “I swear I don’t know what he’s done.” I roughly swipe at my face. “If…if he’s in trouble, I promise it’s nothing to do with me.” I plead, but I know it’s falling on deaf ears.
“Eat up. You need your strength.” Looking down at the sandwich on the tray, my lip curls and I roll my face into the mattress. “Suit yourself.” His footsteps are heavy as he walks out of the room, the door slams shut and the key turns again. My emotions get the better of me, and I cry into the mattress.
I have no idea of the day, the date or even the time. There are no windows in here. With nothing else to look at or even do, my mind soon goes back to that fateful day.
“Shhh.” A hand is clamped over my mouth from behind as a whispered voice sends a chill snaking down my spine. I kick wildly and attempt to scream in the hope that someone, anyone, would come to help me. “Stay fucking still. Wriggle anymore and I will fucking gut you.” His forearm wrapped around my throat and kept me in place. After his words put the fear of death in me, I didn’t want to take the chance.
I still remember his lips at my ear, the eerie tone of his voice, then I remember him, Carl. He had Gabe by the scruff of his shirt, dragging him in like trash. Maybe he is fucking trash. As I remember that day so clearly, more tears flow like a running faucet as I remember my dad’s ashes in a puff of dust.
What the hell did I do to be treated like this?
Pulling myself up, I swipe at my face again. Taking the sandwich from the plate I look at it and on cue my tummy rumbles. I still refuse to eat it though, it could be a trap, what if they’re drugging me. “ARGH.” I scream and lift the plate and take aim, at the door. It smashes as it hits its target and shatters. The sound of the door unlocking makes me pause and I watch as it opens.
Carl appears again, but this time Vincente comes in first while Carl holds open the door.
“Not hungry? Or are we practising for a plate throwing competition?” I don’t answer.
Vincente. The first time I met him in that club I felt an instant attraction to him. I couldn’t help it. He was so charismatic. Am I just attracted to the wrong men ? Gabe may be an asshole but he’s never locked me away. Is it a case of better the devil you know?
“It’s okay Carl, you can leave us.” Vincente tells him, my nerves ramping up a little more.
“Boss.” The door closes and Vincente sits down on the bed.
Scrambling backwards, I push into the corner as far as I can. “What do you want with me?”
“That’s a bit of a loaded question, Aria.”
My heart feels like it’s going to break out of my chest due to my erratic breathing, “Are you going to hurt me?”
He turns to look at me, “Aria,” his voice is low and gentle, smooth like velvet, something I never expected of a man like him. It’s almost sexy. If I wasn’t being held here against my will, I could easily find him sexy. In fact, I did in the club. I know he’s dangerous, I’m not stupid. He’s the epitome of dangerous. “Have you been mistreated at all while you’ve been here?” My head shakes furiously. I don’t want to piss him off. He edges up bed until he’s within touching distance. I freeze, my body stiff with tension. “Well then. I’m not going to hurt you now.” He stares, his bright blue eyes that I first admired bore into my soul.
“Then why am I here?” I ask through gritted teeth. He reaches out and just like I knew would happen, his fingers make contact with my face.
“So soft,” his thumb soothes along my jawline and I forget to breathe. Is it wrong to crave his touch? If he’s so dangerous, why is he being so nice to me?