Page 23 of His Property

“What is it, Mouse?”

I meet his eyes and slump my shoulders. “This is it?” I ask, holding up the paper. “Usually, these things are a lot longer.”

“In your vast experience, you mean?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from each word.

My eyes narrow. “I’ve done my research.”

He chuckles, but there’s a nervous twinge to it. He leans close, and I almost flinch but will myself to stay still.

“Sign the fucking paper, Mae.”

His voice makes my stomach turn, and I almost sign the piece of paper just to make sure he doesn’t get too angry. But something stops me.

I raise it up again and search for any part where it says that I owe him money or that this is in response to him paying TJ’s debt, but there’s nothing there. That isn’t necessarily odd, but with the way it talks about a monetary compensation makes it seem like he’s making me out to be a prostitute. Whose benefit is that for? Whose benefit is this sheet of paper for? It isn’t mine. It isn’t his.

It must be for his boss. It could be insurance to make sure he isn’t caught kidnapping and enslaving me down here, and if heiscaught, he has this to prove it was all consensual.

Theyreallyare concerned with him crossing a line, aren’t they?

Victor clears his throat, drawing my eyes up to him. He almost seems like he’s distressed, and I can’t figure out why. It all started when he took the gag off. I tilt my head toward the ceiling and remember the TV. It’s still on.

“Do you live with someone?” I ask.

He grits his teeth and doesn’t say anything.

I look back at the contract, and Victor snatches it from my hands.

“Look, this is aformality.” He shakes the paper. “This is not a fucking BDSM relationship. You’re here. You’re alive, as is that teenager you’re so fond of. We already made our deal, so make it official so I can leave. I have to get to work.”

“But itisa BDSM relationship,” I counter, wondering how the hell I’m acting so brave. I can’t help it. I’m an English teacher. I know how to analyze a piece of writing, and this one is telling me I have more power here than he’d like me to believe. Heneedsme to agree to this. He has no more room to threaten my life. That ship sailed.

I have an opportunity here.

“Isn’t it?” I ask. I point to the contract. “It says it is right here.”

“Again, it’s a formality.”

“Right, and one formality in the BDSM world, which is what you’re stating we’re in, is a negotiation of the contract. I can’t just sign it without fully considering—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, his eyes wide and jaw clenched. I can’t help but notice how his voice stays level despite his clear anger. “We already have an agreement.”

“I made an offer.” I swallow and ready myself for more of his anger. “And then you left, and I didn’t see you for days. Offers expire, Victor.”

A darkness enters his eyes that makes me wonder if I should’ve kept my mouth shut. It’s only two weeks. Surely whatever he has planned can’t be bad enough that I couldn’t make it two weeks.

Of course it is. The guy’s insane.

He doesn’t respond, so I continue. “I could walk out of here right now,” I say with so much more confidence than I have. “I could even call the police and have you arrested for kidnapping and rape.”

He scoffs. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

My stomach flips as embarrassment floods me, but I push on without acknowledging it. “What would the familia do if they knew you broke one of their rules?”

“I don’t know,” he lies. “But I do know that if you brought law enforcement to a made man, they’d kill you. Regardless of the outcome for me.”

“You know they’d kill you too,” I say, my voice strong. “The mafia isn’t forgiving, Victor. I’m not an idiot.”

He tilts his head. “Are you sure about that?”

---