Page 11 of Lies like Rubies, Part One

“Swallow,” he commanded. I obeyed without hesitation.

He released my hair and leaned back on the couch, staring at me with satisfied, hooded eyes. “You liked that,” he said wonderingly, stroking a thumb across my wet cheek, collecting the evidence of his release.

No, I didn’t. Did I?

He pushed my lips apart, and I wrapped them around his digit, cleaning him off before I even thought of refusing.

What is wrong with me?

He cupped his fingers around my jaw and kept his thumb in my mouth. I sat there, quiescent, trying not to gag as drool collected under my tongue and dripped down my chin. Dante pulled out his phone and swiped it open with his other hand as I struggled to remain still.

“Don’t move, slut,” he muttered as his thumb flew across the screen. When he finally released me, I gasped for air, swiping across my face with the back of my hand to wipe off the spit. He grabbed my wrist. “No, leave it.”

I looked up at him, my face tear-streaked and covered in cum, drool dripping down my chin.

Dante’s lips tilted up in a cruel smile as he snapped a photo of my face.

“I prefer you a mess,” he said. His phone dinged, and his expression hardened. “But I’m not interested in sharing you like this. Go clean off your face and put on something that doesn’t show the entire fucking world your tits and ass.”

I scrambled to my feet, not understanding. My confusion must have shown in my eyes.

“One of my men will guard your door tonight.” Dante’s eyes flicked up and down my body. My robe had slipped to my elbows, and cum covered my chest from my neck to the top of my silk nightgown. “I said go get changed, slut. You have five minutes.”

I dashed to my bedroom, grabbing make-up wipes off of my dresser. Swiping them over my face and chest, I frantically went through my dresser, looking for something presentable, something I didn’t mind a stranger seeing me in.

Four minutes later, I popped out of my room and into Lizzie’s, sighing with relief when she rolled over in her bed, fast asleep and dreaming sweetly. Two minutes after that, I returned to my living room, clad in loose lounge pants, a sports bra, and a sweater. Dante’s eyes swept over my body. He grunted, and I flushed with shame when warmth settled in my chest at his approval.

Dante opened the door and greeted a man standing outside, issuing instructions in rapid-fire Italian. No one was to enter my apartment without Dante’s permission. He wasn’t to bother me unless the building was on fire. He was to report to Dante every hour. A replacement would arrive at dawn. The man didn’t even look at me. He just nodded and stepped outside.

“That was six minutes,” Dante growled at me once we were alone again. “Kneel,” he snapped, pointing to the ground at his feet. I did as he ordered, and he stepped back. “Kiss my fucking shoes.”

My eyes flew to his. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for me to sink down to the floor. I lowered myself until my mouth skimmed over his shoes and closed my eyes, willing the tears at his humiliating and degrading instructions to hold back until he left. Shuddering, I pressed my lips against the toe of one shoe, then the other.

“Stay down there,” he commanded. I froze, my lips brushing against the shiny leather, poorly balanced and trembling. I knew he’d found a way to make this even more embarrassing, even worse. “Beg me to protect your daughter.”

I pulled back.

“No,” he snapped. “Keep your fucking lips on my shoe.”

I closed my eyes. “Please, Dante,” I pleaded. “Please protect my daughter. Protect Lizzie from her father. Help me keep her away from him. Please.”

He nudged my chin with the tip of his shoe. “Do you think that’s convincing?”

I whimpered, terrified he’d walk out the door and leave me to face Sergio alone. As horrible as he was, I knew he could keep Lizzie safe. “Please, Dante—sir,” I lowered my cheek against his shoe, resting my head against him, my hair falling around my face. I let the humiliation of the last several minutes run through me, remembered the terror from the pediatrician’s office, and allowed myself to feel the exhaustion overwhelm me. I bit back a gasp and then a sob as I let the raw emotion loose.

“Please,” I begged, tears finally spilling out of my eyes. I wrapped my hands around his ankles as I lay there, prostate against his shoes. “Please, sir, I need your help.” I shook with desperation. I needed a way to protect Lizzie, to keep her from Sergio, without asking my family for help. They’d take any excuse to marry me off, end the sham of letting me get an education, and shut the door on any future freedom. My shoulders shook as I finally let go of all the turmoil from the day, sobbing onto Dante’s shoes.

“Please, Dante. I’m begging you.”

I lost track of how long I cried onto his shoes, clutching at his ankles, begging him to keep my daughter safe. When my tears finally subsided, I looked up through the fallen strands of my hair.

He stared down at me, his expression unreadable. I sniffled but didn’t wipe the snot from my nose or let go of his legs. When he shook me off his foot, I leapt backward, releasing him and resting on my haunches, trying to get myself under control after my humiliating loss of composure seconds before.

Dante ran his fingers through my hair and cupped the side of my head in his large hand, pulling me to lean against his thighs.

“All right, slut. I’ll protect your child until I’ve retrieved my money from your boyfriend and made him pay for the wrong he did to me.”

I sagged against his thighs, releasing the tension in my shoulders, relief washing over me.

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