Page 97 of Devil's Rage

No, not master Claudio.

Claudio.

“I’ll be inside,” With that, Claudio is gone.

No.My heart screams for his presence and in its absence, I hug the empty bottle. He made me feel comfortable. My kind sir. I hug my empty bottle of water tighter to my shuddering stomach.

Who is this?

I had smelled viciousness when Signor E bought me three years ago. But power, the kind that comes with a calm dominance, I have never had the honor of smelling.

I lift my head gradually, trembling to squint through a look. Just a peep. My eyes scan from black dress pants with long firm legs, to the Versace belt around his waist, to the buttons on his black dress shirt covering a still-visible sculpted body, to a smooth neck with a bulging Adam’s apple, to defined jawlines, to plush faded raspberry lips, to hollowed cheeks, an Italian nose, elongated coal lashes encamping pearl blue eyes with dots of black in them, to bristles of eyebrows on top of them and jet black hair ruffled in a man bun.

My brain takes it all in. Him. Take him all in.

That body. That poise. Those eyes. The air.

Power. Charisma. Suave.

He is the master.

My master.

Chapter Five

MASSIMO

Iwon’t bring a woman to my apartment unless she works for me and with me, but now I’m getting married and about to start a family. I don’t know the first fucking thing about wooing a lady or keeping her, because I never had to try that hard to get any. But now I have to somehow make the world believe I’m madly in love with this girl in front of me. I hope to hell she doesn't run in a different direction every time I enter a room.

I don’t trust myself not to give her reasons to.

This is why this setting is perfect. Asking a lady out is too much fucking stress and trying to keep the lady is maddening in itself. I’m too busy with my business for that extracurricular bullshit.

If you want flowers, go get them or get a gardener to make you a fucking garden. If you want diamonds, go shopping for them, or have them delivered to you. Who cares about who is going out to buy the stuff when it’s on me anyway?

And what is it about dinner dates? Lose me. When I’m eating, I want to eat, and then I want to get the hell out to continue with the important shit, not sit there and waste my time with pleasantries. Who the fuck cares about your favorite color?

In all fairness, it’s not that I’m a terrible person. But when it comes to certain subjects, I’m as terrible as they come. I’m uninterested. And maybe I am a terrible person. I mean, what do I care about those things?

The last thing I need is a woman on my tail, feeling like she’s got the right to ask me where I’m going, what I’m doing, and where I slept.

Yes, I need a wife, but one without the rights of a wife. Because I do not plan to be a husband. A provider? Yes. A protector? Definitely. But a husband? No bloody way in hell.

So like I said, she fits the fucking profile.

Knock yourself out, girl.

I watch her watch me, unraveling me with sniper-focused eyes like she’d miss something if she looked too fast. Trembling and holding on to an empty plastic bottle like it’s an anchor against the impending storm.

It is not like I have the time for this scrutiny but I understand that her new reality is one she needs adjusting to. She has been sold, who the hell knows how many times. I don’t want to beginthe imaginative process of what that body and mind have been put through. The torture, the battering, the emotional abuse. You can sniff it in the air. It’s like her own body scent. You can touch her damage and if you pay attention closely, you can even taste it. I know I do. Sour. Bitter. Stomach upsetting taste.

Her eyes scan me as she moves from my bare feet, ever so slowly up.

I’m sitting on the russet sofa in my apartment, both arms spread open on the head of the sofa with a glass of whiskey in one hand, waiting for her to be done.

There are a few things I have noticed just by looking at her at the exhibition and now here. The most important thing for me to keep in mind, is that new things make her nervous. A sudden change. A veer in a different direction. She starts to vibrate, grit, and curl her toes and fingers to find the balance to keep standing.

When I upped the bid price she was physically shaking, like a tidal wave had hit. When she was announced sold, it was too much. The malnutrition issue certainly did not help. And now, walking in and seeing me is having the same effect. She didn’t know she’d be seeing someone else aside from Claudio, I had asked him not to say anything to her when I called him earlier for a car to be sent to me.

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