Page 8 of Rayna's Daddy

The library. I did like books. Mr. Santorini led me down a wide spiral staircase into a huge room with gleaming marble floors and round columns running down the center. At the bottom of the stairway, we turned around. Tucked into the back of the stairs was a small room. It had shelves and shelves of books lining each side.

I loved the smell of old leather-bound books. Each section of shelves was lite by spotlights, that gave the room a mysterious feel. I scanned the shelves and recognized some of the titles. I envied the characters in my favorite books for the adventures they had. I was on quite the adventure myself, but I couldn’t enjoy it. I should not be down here. I should not be alone with this man. I should not be here at all.

“I need to find Natalie.” I walked back toward the stairs. “She must be worried about where I went.”

“Please stay. Drink with me, first.” He grabbed me around the waist and guided me over to the couch.

A dark leather sectional framed the room on three sides. A small bar sitting near the back. A man stood behind the bar, dress in black like the other wait staff.

“Would you like a drink?” Mr. Santorini asked.

I shook my head, having lost the ability to talk.

“I’ll let you get back to the party in just a minute, but I have to confirm one thing before we go.” He licked his lips and laid a hand on my thigh. I flinched.

I tried to push it off, but his grip tightened. I looked at the man at the bar, but his eyes remained focused on the concoction he was creating.

“What do you want to know?” As soon as I answered him, surely, he would let me go.

“Are you a virgin?” His nasty meaty paws slid up my leg, leaving shivers of disgust spiraling through me.

“What?” I blinked. “That’s none of your business.”

“It actually is my business.” His hand pushed further. I gripped it with both my hands and pushed him away. “I could get double, but Dr. Hansen has asked me to confirm.”

“Confirm?” What did he mean? His fingers dug into my thighs and yanked my thighs open, and it clicked. A story popped into my head about how in the ancient times, priests were required by the king to check to make sure his bride to be was “intact.”

Hell no. Was he insane? This was not happening. Mr. Santorini was no priest, and my virtue was nobody's business but my own.

I used all my strength and quickness and slid out from under him. His disgusting fingers weren’t confirming anything if I had something to say about it.

I stood and took off back toward the stairs, but the freaking high heels got caught on the carpet and caused me to stumble. The world swayed in my vision. I blinked hard, but the world kept morphing in and out of focus.

I ripped off one heel, but before I could take off the other one, a man stepped into the doorway at the other end if the room, blocking my exit. I peeked up the stairs and a man in black leather sneakers stood at the top. They weren’t the kind of sneakers you played basketball in. They were the fancy one’s hipsters in suits wore. I’d seen those shoes before. I didn’t have time to contemplate where.

There had to be another way out of here.

I took a step, but something barreled into me from behind. Mr. Santorini’s belly pressed me into one of the marble columns. I was pinned down.

“Just be still. I’m going to check and then you’ll be on your way.” He gripped the back of my neck. His other hand crawled under my dress.

“No,” I pushed back. “Don’t do this.” I pleaded.

He sneered in my ear. “Not to worry, my love. I wish I could do you, but alas, money talks.” He licked the side of my face and kissed my ear. My arms flailed back, but I couldn’t reach him. My self-defense class taught me how to take down an assailant holding us against our will. We practice against men with knives and guns and any other weapon you could think of. They forgot the lesson about the assailant with a beach ball for a belly as a weapon. I couldn’t get near him.

Maybe I was missing something. My mind worked in slow motion. I blinked and shook my head as much as I could. Mr. Santorini took his time. His hand slid slowly. I could feel his heat between my legs. I swallowed the bile in my mouth and reminded myself to breathe.

He was a half inch away from confirming my virginity when he stopped.

“How much is Dr. Hansen paying?” I recognized the voice of the man from the balcony.

“How much, Albert?” He grunted.

How much? For me?

“I’m not for sale.” No one paid attention to me.

“I wish I could, Kyler, but I can’t piss off Hansen.” Mr. Santorini removed his hand from between my legs and stepped sideways. “You can have her after he’s done.”

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