Page 3 of The Demon

Ali hovers by the door and I say roughly, “Wait in the car. When she arrives, cover the exits. We will be taking her hostage.”

“Usual way?”

“Of course.”

Ali nods and retreats to the waiting car and as I take my seat in the wooden chair placed behind the door, I stare out of the window, relishing the anticipation of an interrogation that will be most pleasurable.

I wait for forty minutes and then hear the door slam and the heavy breathing of a woman who has pushed herself to her limits. How I adore limits. How I love breaking them and testing my subject to reach new ones.

As the door opens into the bedroom, she doesn’t see me as she strips off her sweat-soaked running vest and shrugs out of her jogging pants. I take a moment to admire a body I am keen to explore further and as she loosens her hair from the top knot, my cock wakes up and takes an interest.

To distract it, I slam the door shut and as she jumps and looks around, her scream washes through my body like the finest champagne.

“What the fuck!”

She attempts to cover her naked body and I growl, “Take a seat, Miss. Brown.”

Her eyes widen and she appears to have lost the power of speech as she drops to the bed and pulls the comforter around her body.

“Who are you?” She says with a low hiss, and I grin, my eyes flashing as I growl, “Your worst nightmare.”

I said, “Who are you?”

I admire her anger and revel in it for a second, and then I shrug. “That is no concern of yours. I want the baby you stole from Massimo Delauren.”

Her eyes widen and her lip trembles and she appears so afraid I take a moment to enjoy the sight.

“He sent you?” She could be about to hurl and I play along, feasting on her fear. “Sort of.”

Her eyes flicker around the room, almost as if she expects the man himself to appear and I stand and love the fear darken her eyes as I prowl toward her. As I grasp her hair in my fist, I lean down and growl, “Where is he?”

“What are you talking about?”

She fires back and the hate sparkling in her eyes gives me an instant hard-on.

As I twist her hair tighter, I relish the tears that spring to her eyes and I growl, “Then you had better remember, and fast.”

Pulling sharply down, I take a moment to enjoy her fear and then she surprises me by saying through gritted teeth, “Let me go, you fucking deranged bastard. You’ve got the wrong person.”

I stare deep into her eyes and hiss. “Then you leave me no choice.”

Before she can even take a breath to answer me, I press two fingers hard against her neck and as she slumps in my arms, I take a moment to enjoy the high that always gives me. To control another person’s body against their will seriously turns me on and as I glance down at the beautiful lady in my arms, dressed in nothing but startled surprise, I am very much looking forward to interrogating this mafia princess because I am in no doubt at all that Delores Brown’s real name is Eliza Ortega and knowing that family, this will be an extremely interesting battle ahead.

CHAPTER2

ELIZA

My body is so relaxed. Unusually so and for a few precious seconds I enjoy the alien sensation. It’s as if I have no cares, worries, or problems. I must be dreaming because life isn’t like that.My lifedefinitely isn’t like that and as I enjoy the moment, I battle hard to keep any memories out because as soon as they step forward and remind me what my life is really like, this amazing feeling will go away.

I don’t want to let it go. I curl my fingers around it and hold on tight because this is too good to surrender. I am so relaxed I may be dead and if this is what the afterlife is like, who wants to live, anyway?

My eyes snap open and I stare at an unfamiliar ceiling and my first thought is one of appreciation. Whoever owns this is a person with great taste because it’s the most beautiful work of art, worthy of a place in history as a masterpiece. It is painted so magnificently with angels, blue skies and hope. Serenity settles in my soul, caressing it and promising it that life is good. Safe even and for a moment I concentrate on that. It makes me smile as I stare at perfection and note that wherever I’ve ended up can’t be all that bad because there is no fear inside me for once in my life.

Then reality gives me a kick in the soul and reminds me good things never happen to me and as I attempt to move, I realize I can’t. I glance to the side and note the bindings that are keeping me immobile and as I look down, the memory returns.

I’m naked and there’s a man in my room who doesn’t seem that friendly.

The events that led me here crash through my brain and remind me I’m in the worst kind of trouble. I quickly close my eyes in the hope that when I open them, this will all be a bad dream, but as always, it’s a foolish hope because my reality has never been any different. My life is one big fucking nightmare, and this is no exception.

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