Chapter 1- Not a Meet Cute
Victoria lay on the couch, unconscious, with a bag over her head and the fireplace flickering light onto her still body, and Thorn couldn’t have been happier about it.
The fireplace set the room alight with the flickering glow. It illuminated the old wallpaper, the antique furniture, the dark, patterned rug. The firelight flickered across the glass window panes and the hanging paintings of past manor owners. The light illuminated the faces of all of them in one man, standing next to a table in the center of the lounge. Thorn stared at the unconscious woman across from his position near the table, lost in thought.
The plan was perfect. Victoria had no family besides the ones in the palm of Thorn’s hand, no friends, no traceable significant other. No one would notice when she’d disappear. No one would care.
The method was perfect. Her family owed a debt. They tipped her name, location, and the names of everyone who knew her. He considered the debt paid. He observed for a bit, then gave the order. He barely had to wait for her to be delivered to his door. His favorite kind of woman was always the ones he got to own.
She was perfect. She had that innocent look about her face, the type he loved to ruin. Several of her blond waves had fallen out of the sack on her head. The fire flickered on the silky locks, making them stand out even more against the tight black shirt. She had an incredible body. She clearly put work into it, and Thorn could see the lean muscle strain against the fabric of the tight clothes she wore. How he longed to rip them off. But he had to be patient. That was all part of the fun.
He watched her chest rise and fall, reveling in the look in her eyes when she’d wake up, and he’d rip the bag off. She’d look at him in fear. They all did. Then he’d play with them, tell them dirty desires that he knew they had been hiding. Perhaps he’d put a collar on her, or drag her down to the basement, or invite a friend over to truly enjoy her too. All three sounded great to him. No. He was getting ahead of himself. For now, he would wait.
He walked over to a table in the corner of the room where one of his house workers had set a wine bottle and a couple champagne glasses. He poured a glass of the white wine and set it in front of where Victoria lay unconscious.
Thorn poured another, and took a sip from his glass, then took the rest of the bottle and poured the wine across the woman’s body.
She jolted awake, and Thorn breathed out a chuckle.
“Nice of you to join me.”
———————
Victoria felt the rough sack drag against her face quickly as it was yanked away. The man in front of her set down his wine glass, the hand holding it going to his pocket.
He was wearing a loose dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, showing off the edge of a tattoo Victoria couldn’t place. He wore black jeans, contrasting the traditional expensive look of the man and the room he stood in. The pocket he had his hand in bulged with something else. Victoria knew she couldn’t let him see her afraid. This man was dangerous.
He had shorter, dark hair, his haircut looked slightly grown out, yet deliberately so, his eyes flickered between the warm orange of the fireplace and something else.
“Who are you? Where am I?” Victoria said, with a more unreadable tone than Thorn would have wanted.
“Is that any way to start a conversation? I was hoping for more of a… hello, my name is Victoria.”
“You seem to already know my name, so that part seems unnecessary. What is this? A kidnapping?”
“I prefer business exchange, but call it whatever if it helps you get off.” Thorn leaned in close to her, “that is the goal, after all.”
“You-“ Victoria was cut off by the pocket knife blade at her throat. So that’s what was in his pocket. Victoria mused
“Oh yes. But you’ll love it too. You’ll learn to love it.” He took advantage of her surprise and grabbed a fistful of her hair. “I’m the only one who can see past the innocence. You crave this. I bet you’ll beg for me. Or for mercy. And I’ll enjoy both.”
Victoria inhaled sharply, her skin prickled at his touch as he set down the knife and brushed his hand over her cheek.
“Maybe I should throw you into the deep end and see how long you’ll last,” He pulled his hand away, “you’re awfully quiet now. Don’t tell me you think I’m going to kill you before we get to the fun part.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Others like to beg. Since you’re so brave, maybe I can step it up.”
“Why am I here?” Victoria asked, keeping her eyes locked on Thorn’s.
“It’s a perfect cliché, in my opinion. Those indebted deadbeats you cut off years ago decided to give me you to settle their business with me. And now I’m deciding to play with my new toy.” Thorn let go of her hair, and shifted his grasp to her chin. “I made a good purchase. You’re perfect. And I don’t want another sound out of that perfect mouth besides moans and whimpers.”
Victoria bit back a remark, determined to keep her level demeanor in front of the man. He picked up the full champagne glass and opened her mouth to pour the bubbling liquid down her throat. “Even though I hate the lack of pathetic whimpering, I’m loving the obedience.” She swallowed.
“Good girl.” Thorn set the glass down, “Care for a walk?”
Victoria shook some of the champagne off of her as she stood up.
“One more thing,” he drew out a chain with one looped end. “Move, and you’ll regret it.” Thorn looped it over her head, lifting her hair out of the way, and slid one end of the dark chain through the looped end. He pulled it tight, and Victoria choked back a raspy breath.
Thorn cocked his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Now, you can walk with me.”
Victoria attempted to regain her poker face as the man led her out of the room and into the decadent halls. There were more paintings on the walls, covering the expensive wallpaper. She could hear two or three doors closing ahead of her, and noted that she hadn’t seen a single one of the old mahogany doors open. She had no idea who was in the house besides her and the man leading her through it. That could be good or bad, the thought. He stopped walking in front of a door that opened down into a staircase.
“Be a good girl and keep walking.” He whispered into her ear, brushing some of her hair away from it.
Victoria stepped down, and down again. Thorn followed close behind her, letting his grip on the chain connecting them slip.
The floor at the bottom of the stairs was the same dark wood, but the walls were darker, and there weren’t any framed pictures like the floor above. It was colder too, and Victoria shivered in her wet clothes.
“See that room?” He pointed to a door at the end of the hallway, “walk in there and lay on the bench.” He let the chain drop completely. He’s testing how much I’ll obey, she thought. She walked down the hallway, taking advantage of the loose chain to draw a deep breath in, and opened the door into the room. She stepped inside, attempting to discreetly size it up. The floor had stains, which stood out to her because everything else in the room seemed pristine. The chains draped over the arm of a chair were clean, the chair itself was covered in expensive upholstery, the drawers on the left wall of the room looked tidy, and there wasn’t a single smudge or spot on the mirror that covered the entire back wall. Victoria took a seat on the hard bench and leaned back until she was flat against it. The bench wasn’t long enough to completely lay down, and her bent knees allowed her feet to touch the floor. Thorn walked in behind her, taking his time.
“You’ve been so good. Much more obedient than past whores. Maybe I’ll keep you around longer than I kept them. For now, I’ll give you a reward.” He stepped next to her, “you get to know my name. Thorn. But you only get to say it once. Really save it for something special. For all other purposes, you call me master. Now stay still.”
