Mistress to a sadistic beast

Mia's pov

Wrapping my arms around my body, I stared Up at the night's sky. The moon glowed down, and it made me smile.

Closing my eyes, I stood perfectly still, and in a rare moment of my life, I felt a sense of Peace. These times were always few and far between in my life. I had learned long ago to not always expect them, but to enjoy them while they happened.

After taking a deep breath, I released it slowly, counting the seconds.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the rare beauty herself."

The dark voice sent a shiver down her spine, and Not in a good way, either. Opening my eyes, I stared straight ahead, feeling the man approach. He was the enemy. My senses told her to be on High alert. I didn't have a single weapon on hand.

Gritting my teeth, I tried not to react.

"Are you not going to scream?" he asked.

His warmth seeped through my dress, and I Tensed up as his hands suddenly appeared. The moon provided enough light for me to recognize the dragon markings imprinted around his neck, but there was only one man in the entire family who would have that kind of tattoo.

My family had warned me about him.

Killian De Luca. The most feared and oldest son. Of the empire. Our sworn enemies.

What was he doing at my home and at my secret balcony at that?. No one was around. He'd be able to kill me easily.

I had done the unthinkable and let down my Guard. I should have known there was nowhere in this world where I would be safe. My heart raced, but I didn't move. I didn't even flinch as those arms went to my waist, as if he had a right to touch me, which he did not.

No one was here to hear my pleas.

"Stay away from me or you would regret it," I said.

He chuckled amusingly.

"Would I? Or is your father becoming too reckless with your safety?"

My hands clenched into fists. No one insulted. My father or my family. The desire to kill him was strong, but I kept myself in check, not wanting to give away too much.

Killian pressed his face against my neck.

"You smell good."

What was his end game?

What did he want from me?

"You know, I could steal you away right now. None of your pictures do your beauty justice."

I had heard enough. Slamming my elbow into his ribs, I stomped my foot down on his and spun around to face him, landing a blow to his face. My attack caught him off guard, but as I went to slap him, he captured my wrist. His grip was firm, making me cry out from the sudden jolt of pain. "Let go of me, you animal!"

"You've got some fight in you. I like that. It will be so much more fun to watch you beneath me."

"You've got no chance in hell." I would fight him no matter what. "There is no way an italian would ever be with a Russian. You are filth and the worst plague to walk this fucking earth."

"Fighting words."

"I can do more than that." I was ready to kill him. He might not have been directly responsible for killing my mother, but he was an Italian. They were all the same.

"Mark my words, Maria. You will be mine."

"Over my dead body."

"We will see."

It've been three years after he had said those words at her 16th birthday night.

I spun around in a circle, taking in the grandeur of my surroundings. My shirt was torn, exposing one shoulder along with my bra strap. My hair had been pulled from the confines of my bun. My jeans were still intact, but now there were tear marks where i'd been roughly kidnapped.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the sudden fear. There was no reason to be irrational. I didn't like the look of the house. It already screamed money. Being taken someplace that looked wealthy wasn't a good sign as far as I was concerned. Gripping the back of my neck, I tried not to think too hard. This wasn't good. None of this was.

My guards hadn't put up any fight either. I hadn't been able to find a means of escape from the Russian empire in the past three years. Every time I tried to find one possible avenue, my father thwarted it. Either by stopping me from going away to college, or constantly having guards at my side. My mother had warned me more than once that if my father saw me as a feasible income, or a means to get what he wanted, he'd use me.

Had that time come?

Had his enemies figured out who I was?

My coming-of-age party had been a huge problem. Up until that point, no one knew who I was, or what I meant to my father who was the leader of the Russians. It was like I didn't exist, but since then, all had known what I looked like and now there was no getting away from it.

There was a bed against the far wall, looking as imposing as ever. There was no way I was going to sit on it. I stayed perfectly still and kept my gaze on the door, which was locked. That was the first thing I tried, to see if there was any chance of escape.

There wasn't.

Even trying to flee from the window was useless. It was far too high, and the windows were locked.

The only way I'd be able to escape through them was if I had a rock or something to break the glass. That would only alert my captors to my intention of escaping. No matter where I looked, there was nothing I could do. Absolutely nothing.

The large, imposing bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. Only one door. There wasn't even a closet or any drawers. Nothing. I'd already tried to look under the bed, and nothing was there.

This was impossible.

I wasn't going to beg or cause a scene. A Russian never did any such thing. I was highly embarrassed that even after all of my training, I hadn't been able to stop the men from taking me.

I had to wonder if my mother would be ashamed if she could see me now. I shook my head, refusing to think of that. I couldn't. Right now, all I could do was attempt to survive.

That was it.

Hands clenched into fists, I tried not to think. Panicking wouldn't get me out of here, but being in control and collected just might. It was a long shot. I was aware of that, but it was a shot I was more than willing to take. Shock raced down my spine as soon as I heard the lock flick open. Three men rushed into the room. None of them attempted to hide their identities. All of them charged toward me, and I attempted to fight them off, punching one, kicking another, but it was the third one who wrapped his arms around my waist, hauling me off her feet.

He placed me over his shoulder, and I screamed at him to let me go, landing blows against his ass, trying to get him to stop, even attempting to kick him. I wanted to get out of here, to be let down. Nothing helped. They left the room, and I tried to watch every single footstep so I would be able to figure out an escape. This was what happened when My father's thirst for blood was far stronger than his love for his daughter.

Tears began to fill my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I squeezed them closed. There was no way I'd ever show weakness. Not to my captor. Not to these men. Certainly not to my father. I had long ago stopped crying. No man deserved my tears. The men came to a stop, and I was suddenly dumped unceremoniously onto the floor like I was nothing. They stepped back, and I opened my eyes to see several men. Some of whom I recognized as my father's men.

Several I did not, but I did notice the acient dragon mark. Then spinning around on the floor, I came to a stop when I saw her beaten father and Killian De Luca himself, standing there looking victorious.

What the fuck had happened?

Staring at my father now, I had to wonder what had happened because he didn't look happy. In fact, he was bleeding, and seeing him like this, he appeared broken. His men didn't have their weapons either. Only the Italians was heavily armed.

My stomach started to twist and turn.

I didn't speak for fear of how I'd sound. Instead, I looked at the two men and waited.

"Will you tell her, nikkah? Or should I?"

My father wouldn't even glance at me. I'd never seen him like this. In all the years I was growing up, he was a commanding presence in my life. Someone who had always been in control, who never looked anyone in the eye with fear.

"Dad?" I asked, needing him to acknowledge my presence.

Killian de Luca didn't look my way. Instead, he chuckled. Then he finally looked at me, but I didn't want to return his gaze. Something had gone badly wrong.

One quick glance at him, another at my father, and nothing.

"You will be going with Killian De Luca now, maria."

"What?" I asked.

"You belong to him."

I shook my head. "No, that cannot be."

"You will do as he tells you. You will not run. You will hold your head up high and be proud to be a Russian."

This made Killian De Luca laugh even more. "Proud to be a Russian? Would you like me to tell her how you sold her? How you begged for your life?"

"Dad, please, don't do this."

My father had sold me to De Luca as if I meant nothing? No, it couldn't be. I refused to believe it. "Dad, please, talk to me."

Instead, my father stepped away from De Luca, who clicked his fingers. His men grabbed me.

"Take her to my home, in the mistress's bedroom. I'll be there to deal with you shortly."

Trying to keep calm faded so fucking fast. As the men grabbed my arms to lift me, I fought them, stopping the two men with my surprise attack, but more men grabbed at me. Even as they hauled me off my feet and marched me out of the room, I screamed for my father.

Anger rushed through me. It was quick and full of bitterness. What the hell had happened?

They dumped me into the back of a truck. I slammed my hands against the side of the vehicle, trying to get out. Everything was locked.

"Damn it. Let me out." I wasn't going to stop. Not for a single second. My father had sold me to De Luca? How did this happen?

What could he have possibly done that was such a big giant screwup that put him at his enemy's mercy? I wasn't going to get any answers in the back of the truck, but I refused to go quietly.

If cops ended up following us, I'd be able to get their attention. I prayed for someone to flag them down, to bring awareness to me being kidnapped. Anything that would stop this from happening.

My hands grew sore with the constant slapping against the metal can I was being transported in. The air was stale. Tiredness started to consume me.

I needed to get out. To get free. To finally be free of being a Russian and to be my own person.

"Let me out."

The truck suddenly came to a stop. It was so dark, and as I tried to figure out where the truck would open, the back or the side, I kept flicking my head to the front and to the right, wanting to surprise them and make an escape.

The truck opened, and I charged forward.

Once again, shocking the men as I shoved them out of the way, I ran as fast as I could.

I'd never been the person to wear heels, always preferring sneakers and flats. I ran as fast as I could, hearing De Luca's men following behind me, but I had to get away. I didn't have time to take in my surroundings, and it wasn't too long before I was thrown to the ground, and a large body covered me.

No one said a word even as I kept on fighting, wanting to get away. Begging to be free. To fight. Hoping someone would take pity on me and let me go. Who would dare to betray De Luca?.

In all my years of eavesdropping, I had never once heard of one of his men running away. Not a single one.

What kind of man instilled that kind of loyalty?

I didn't know who it was, nor did I want to. I was once again off my feet and being carried back toward the house. Again, I didn't get the chance to look at my surroundings as I was taken to a room. This time, I was dumped on the bed.

"There's a bathroom through there. Use it. Clean yourself up, and be warned, there is absolutely no chance of escape."

I spun around to face my captor, prepared to yell at him, but he was already gone.

Of course he was.

I moved to the edge of the bed and rested my palms on my knees, taking a deep breath. Wearing myself out wasn't part of the plan. Not that I had any great ideas for escaping. I was stuck.

Getting to my feet, I assessed the room. This one had a large bed, like the last, but this time, I recognized the luxury silk sheets. A couple of cupboards were on either side, and I went to them, opening the three drawers in each, finding nothing. There wasn't a lamp, and I touched the top of each surface, wondering if a lamp had been there. I would've been able to smash it to use it as a weapon.

Nothing. There were three doors. One was the entrance the guard had exited from just a few moments ago. Another, I opened to see it was an empty closet. Again, I looked through the drawers, and they were all empty. Next was the bathroom. There was no mirror, and only a curtain provided cover for the shower.This room looked like it had been designed to hold a hostage.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

What kind of man did this? Was this a happy coincidence or had he planned this?

*KILLIAN'S POV*

I smiled as I watched maria look around the room for something to fight with. The guards who'd dealt with her had already warned me that she knew how to fight. She wasn't as trained as my men, but she would cause some serious injury to others if given the chance.

I knew she'd be a wildcat. That night at her coming-of-age party, I'd snuck in to finally get a look at the precious daughter nikkah had been hiding. I wasn't disappointed by the woman I'd found. Then, when she was sixteen, she'd been too young for my taste. At thirty years old, I liked my women to be of age and not just on the fine border of being legal.

That one encounter had stayed with me, and for the past three years, I'd watched maria nikkah. She was nothing like her father, nor of the rest of the nikkah line. For one, she showed compassion. I watched her with stray animals she'd found, along with people she helped, even if it was down to aiding an elderly lady walk across the street. My men captured it.

Maria wasn't cold or dead. She was full of passion and fire. I saw it in the way she fought. Even now, she kept testing everything. My men had told her to take a shower, but she was looking for a means to protect herself. What she didn't seem to know was that her body would keep her safe.

I had known nikkah would fuck up. The man's thirst for power and blood made him greedy. It made him believe he was untouchable, but one mistake after another this past year had brought them to this moment. To where I'd be the one to point a blade at his throat, rather than a gun. There was nothing satisfying about shooting a man. Nearly all of nikkah's wealth was gone. Used up on women, drugs, gambling, and just being a bad businessman.

Nikkah thought he was untouchable, and he had never been more wrong. The only wealth the nikkah name had was owned by maria. Her mother's trust fund that had been placed in holding until maria fulfilled the terms set out to get it-a small fortune. Enough to make maria a target for men, and certainly for her father who would want to marry her off.

That was what put Maria in harm's way. Her father had started to hunt for a husband for her. Someone he could control and manipulate. He'd wanted his daughter's money. From what his sources told him, she had no idea she had a small fortune.

I watched as Maria stripped out of her clothes and turned the shower on. She kept her panties and bra on, not that I blamed her. She held her hand beneath the water, waiting for it to warm up.

She kept on glancing around, at one point even looking into one of the cameras I had installed.

I started preparing this room three years ago. From the moment he met, my intention was to take her. I was known for my patience. What I wanted, I always got. And when it came to Maria, I wanted her. Not for her wealth, but to tame that wildcat.

I despised the Russians and everything they stood for, but maria was different. I had taken my time. Done my research and knew she was not like her father. She was unique, and that quality was to be rewarded.

It was why I attacked nikkah. Why when my blade was to his throat, and he was more than happy to strike the killing blow, I'd waited to see what nikkah would give up to save his own life.

I was shocked when maria's name came up. Why would I be? The man was a coward, only interested in his own ends. I despised that in men. Was sickened by it. Nikkah would die soon enough, but first, I intended to take every single piece of nikkah's land and business. To kill all his men and make him drown in his own misery. I was going to break and destroy that man, piece by piece.

First, I was going to work on maria.

She would belong to me.

The day would soon come when I would show her father what he'd done. How he'd gotten a Russian to fall in love with a De Luca. That would not be the only victory I anticipated. I would also knock her up, but I have no intention of marrying her.

There was no way a De Luca would ever marry a Russian. I would keep her as my mistress. Even when I find a wife worthy of the De Luca name, I would keep maria in place, by my side, never allowing her to escape. I waited for maria to wrap a towel around her beautiful, curvy body before entering her room.

I closed the door and nodded at my guard to flick the lock into place. There was no escape. Pocketing my cell phone, I moved toward the bed and waited for maria to enter. The moment she did, wrapped in a towel, she froze, jerking to a stop.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her.

She stood still, her hands gripping the edge of the towel as if that alone could protect her. Every single part of this room was covered in cameras, so I would have the joy of watching her whenever I wanted. There was no weapon. Nothing to protect her. Even when I sent food in, I made sure there were no knives. Nothing to tempt her to act irrationally.

I smiled. "Hello, maria."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Is that any way to greet your master?"

"You're not my master. You will never be my master."

I chuckled. There would come a day when she would crawl across broken glass for me, and when that day arrived, I would fucking relish it. I would break this woman. So much spirit. So much passion. I couldn't wait to unleash it and to finally have a taste of what I'd been waiting for. My cock stiffened at the thought.

I got to my feet and took a step toward her. She stayed perfectly still, tilting her head back and glaring at me. That's right, little cat, fight me. Your submission will be so much sweeter.

"Your father gave you to me."

"I'm a person. I'm not a thing to be passed around like an object."

I cupped her cheek, and she shoved my arm away. Smiling, I gripped the back of her neck and hauled her up against me. She did have some skills, but she was no match for me. There was nothing she could do to fight me off. I was the one with complete power, ultimate control.